Jun 1

So I wanted to update y’all on Antageddon 2010. I wanted to. HOWEVER, since it has been raining pretty much 30 hours a day for as long as I can remember. Which one might imagine would drown all the little bastards right but I’m pretty sure our particular brand of ants are resilient enough to withstand a flood of biblical proportions.

Nonetheless, we did feel like we were starting to make a bit of progress in the War On Ants before the floods came upon us so we’re hoping that if we keep up with the 14 different ant-killing methods we were using that we will be able to reclaim our yard for the good guys (that would be us).

We managed to successfully pull off Kieran’s birthday party this weekend which was stressing me out because I had wanted to have it outside and normally you can depend on relative warmth and excessive sunshine in June in the prairies. Alas, it was not to be. With a forecast of nothing but rain for the foreseeable future I was able to accept that we would not be partying outside this year and I got my papier mache on. I made pinatas!

And I don’t mind saying they were a tremendous success! We used the pinata loot as goodie bag fillers so the kids all collected their own treats after each one broke. Because the pinatas were very nearly free to make I was able to spend money on buying good candy instead of that crappy pinata candy that you can buy at stores. They were absolutely perfect for the age of kids we had, not breaking too easily but also not being so hard that a 4 year old couldn’t possibly break it open.

Let me tell you, you haven’t know fear unless you’re a man standing on chair and holding a pinata while a number of four year boys swings a plastic bat directly at your junk as hard as they can.

The hubby is very brave.

This year the request was for a Batman cake and after searching out a simple idea for a Batman themed cake I was fairly happy with the outcome:

Please ignore the rather wobbly outlines of the cityscape. I bought super strength icing colour to get the perfect royal blue and black colour. This was the result:

And if that’s what it did to their tongues then you can imagine why it was no surprise when we woke up the next morning to our son yelling excitedly “MOM! DAD! COME AND LOOK! MY POOP IS BLUE!!!!“. Excellent.

But what I’d really like to know is how my baby…

…became a Batman-costume-wearing, mini-golf-playing, bike-riding, joke-telling, sweet, beautiful boy?

May 3

Dear Son,

Some day I hope you have a child just like you. Generous, sensitive, caring, easy-going, constantly smiling and with a heart bigger than you thought possible. And who eats his or her dinner just slightly slower than the pace of a glacier.

I hope some day you will understand just how far past my wit’s end I was the other night when I took your dinner away (after numerous warnings) and got you into your pajamas and sent you to bed without more than a bite of dinner.

I know you won’t starve missing out on one meal. In fact, missing dinner tonight is not much different than any other night only we didn’t fight over it as long. Supper has always been the bane of your existence and frankly, I’m at a loss to understand why. After the way you run around all day you should be ravenous. But unless dinner consists of cheeseburgers or pizza you’re pretty much willing to forgo the whole fuss. Tonight I’d had enough and decided that a simple bribe or a missed dessert just isn’t going to cut it anymore. I warned you that the consequence of not eating was going to be an immediate bed-time and you called my bluff.

So when I picked you up from the table and brought you upstairs the tears started to flow immediately. You knew I meant it and you weren’t happy. You wailed while I put on your pajamas. You howled while I brushed your teeth. You sobbed as I tucked you into bed. You repeatedly broke my heart with “I wish this wasn’t happening!!!”. Me too, buddy. Me too.

They say people show who they are in a crisis. While going to bed without supper isn’t a natural disaster or unexpected tragedy, it is about as serious as things get for a privileged North American little boy. You showed me who you are tonight. Because even though you were devastated you never once kicked or fought or yelled. You didn’t try to hurt me or run away from me. You didn’t say “I hate you”.  If you had, you wouldn’t have been the first three, almost four-year-old to do so.

You reminded me that you are a gentle, sweet boy who wants to be good. You crave attention and approval like any little three year old but you rarely stoop to misbehaviour to achieve it.  You never resort to nastiness. Silliness maybe, but you are never mean. And most of the time you succeed at being “good”. But the fact that you are good, even when you are being disciplined says a lot about your character, buddy.

I hope some day you have a child just like you who shows you their amazing capacity for unconditional love like you did when I came in to try and settle you down. Your utter despair turned to acceptance and tears to snuggles and I just couldn’t have been more proud of you. Not even today when you announced yourself Kieran the Superhero Worm Rescuer!  You are a good boy.

I love you baby.

Love,
Mommy

Feb 10

I haven’t mentioned it yet but I’m happy to say that we have received our acceptance  from the Saskatchewan Ministry of Social Services to pursue adoption. It’s probably the most painless step of the whole process so not so much a big accomplishment as it is actual evidence that we are headed down this road for real now!

CIMG7963

Our next step is an interview/meeting with our social worker which will happen in a few days. I am not totally sure what that meeting will entail. Talking through our adoption plan, discussing the homestudy, what else? I’m not clear. But after that meeting I think we will be cleared to begin the homestudy process which is a big part of the dossier we will send to our chosen country.  Now THAT I will be nervous about! Nothing like putting your whole life and family under a microscope!

In other news, Kieran seems to be coming to grips with his own mortality. Yes, that’s right. My three year old is having an existential crisis over the fact that he will die someday. Not everyone approaches teaching their kids about death in the same way. We have always taken a very honest, but age-appropriate approach.  Avery encountered death at a very early age when her uncle died of cancer. We explained the concept as best we could at a 2-year-old level. She listened, processed, discussed, and moved on.

CIMG8009

But the perils of having an older sister well-informed about the concept of death means a certain three year old boy has been perhaps given information at a time and in a way that he was not prepared for. It almost certainly does not help that she told him the other day that if he watched too much tv his heart would stop beating! Nothing like a little Grim Reaper with your morning cartoons!

I’ll tell you one thing. Comforting a weeping child who is afraid of dying is no picnic. Thus far, distraction has proven to be the most effective technique. We discuss the things we’re going to do tomorrow, next week, and when he grows up. It’s the only thing that seems to work at this point. I’m sure time and maturity will help. Until then, we are trying to focus on life around here!

Jan 30

Avery: Tells us something about a classmate bugging her.

The Hubby: “Well, you can’t control anyone except…”

Avery: “YourSELF! I KNOW Dad!”

Kieran: “And ROBOTS!”

Dec 16

Dear Three Year Old,

I know you don’t remember the first year of your life or the way I was a total wreck because of never getting to sleep through the night perfectly delightful all the time but you can trust me, I was. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that you are three, or any specific developmental phase or the fact that you just don’t want to go to sleep in your own bed, but the multiple night-time trips to wake me up t is taking it’s toll my darling.

I fully appreciate your vivid imagination and how it is constantly evaluating the likelihood that a monster of unimaginable horror is about to burst out of your closet and violate the sanctity of your bedroom, but I’m going to need you to get a grip here pretty soon. Although I want to be compassionate, I also want to be well rested.  In a contest between maternal love and blessed slumber, sleep is going to win every time. And sleep is less than restful when it is routinely interrupted by “Um…..mum?”.

Sweetheart, I’m not above playing the Santa card and threatening a call to the North Pole if you don’t knock it off. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that you deserve a mother who is not an ogre. So please, my angel, let’s put an end to the nightly visits so I can once again be a moderately pleasant human being dazzle the world with my spectacular mothering while shooting rainbows out of my rear end.

Affectionately yours,
Mommy

Aug 6

Dear Avery and Kieran,

I often wonder what you will remember about this time in your lives. There have been a lot of changes in the last couple of years and they aren’t over yet.  I know you will adjust and life will settle down again as it always does. Routine inevitably falls over us like a familiar blanket. But I wonder…

…I wonder if Avery will remember her first sweetheart. A neighbour and classmate who she bonded with early in the school year and before a few months were through, had pledged to marry. Will she remember his possessive and sometimes manipulative and hurtful behaviour in order to keep her attention focused solely on him? Or will she simply remember their unabashed affection for each other and the way they simply felt comfortable playing together. Their innocent acceptance of each other and their bold plans for the future, despite any attempts by her parents to convince her that she *might* change her mind in the future.

(Yes, she looks like she’s yelling at him here, but she really wasn’t. And just seconds before they were sitting there with their arms slung around each others shoulders and it was just so cute!)

…I wonder if Kieran will remember his constant fluctuating between fear of everything from the bathroom towel to the dark to sounds in the night and putting on the bold and brave act. Will he remember telling me that he’s a “superhero” and his super powers are “killing bugs…aaand…spiders….and skeetos…and bad things” and that his super powers are “geen (green)”?

…I wonder if Avery will remember her unwavering devotion to mothering her “babies”. Each new doll was welcomed into the fold and her delight delighted me.

…I wonder if Kieran will remember roasting “smushmellows” or constantly asking “Why you doin’ dat Mommy? WHY?” with always the same format: Why_____________? Why?

…I wonder if you will remember the first time you went to the circus and neither of you blinked for the whole performance because you were so enthralled.

…I wonder if you will remember playing outside from dawn to dusk, wearing nothing but a bathing suit and only stopping for snacks and bathroom breaks. Will you remember running around with popsicles melting all over your hands and even after twelve consecutive hours of constant action, you are still reluctant to come inside, until we settle down to read stories and you fall asleep before the book is finished.

…I wonder if you will remember the way you alternately loved and hated each other. Playing for hours without a problem and then fighting like cats and dogs the next. I guess that will continue for years to come but I hope the memories of the fun you had together will be stronger.

I know I will always remember the feel of hugs from sweaty, sticky children who smell like sunshine and the way new freckles popped up on Kieran’s nose every day until he was covered just like his daddy and how Avery grew what felt like six inches in a summer and suddenly felt like such a big kid to me. I will remember birthday cakes and shaking the sand off our feet after a day at the beach and the smell of a fresh coat of sunscreen and the sound of the ocean lapping at the shore while your happy shrieks and giggles sounded in the background.

May 6

Tonight, in a fit of pre-bedtime hyperactivity Kieran grabs my face in his two hands and says “Mommy! Yous give me BA-NA-NAS!“ 

I’m pretty sure he meant “You drive me bananas!” but I’ll be darned if I ever say it that way again.

Apr 16

It is infinitely more difficult to trim the finger/toenails of a squirmy two year old than it is to clip an infant’s. And that’s saying something!

Same goes for hair cuts with the clippers. Note to self: NEVER attempt to do that again without the hubby’s assistance. Or a size 2T straightjacket.

Feb 1

My son is a masochist. There’s no denying it. During a visit to the doctor’s office this week he was more than a little disappointed by the fact that he didn’t receive a shot. He was only somewhat placated by having his temperature taken. Rectally.

Dear Son,

Sorry about discussing your hind quarters on the internet. Call it a momentary lapse in judgement that keeps on giving for the rest of life as you know it.

Your loving mother

Jan 14

Daddy: Knock knock

Kieran: YES.

**************

D: Knock knock

K: Who der?

D: Banana!

K: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

**************

K: Knock knock

D: Who’s there?

K: Orange

D: Orange who?

K: YEAH!

**************

K: Knock knock

D: Who’s there?

K: Um…… baby?

D: Baby who?

K: AHAHAHAAHA!

**************

D: Knock knock

K: Who der?

D: Boo

K: Boo who?

D: Don’t cry it’s only a joke!

K: ……?

**************

« Previous Entries