May 21

I never thought I would enjoy it as much as I did…

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.

Apr 4

After making two big moves in the last two years we decided it would be best if we could lighten our load a little before our next move, whenever that might be. And thus began a project which I have cursed more than once in the past six weeks.

It seemed like a manageable sized project. I decided to try and sell our old baby clothes. We had a dozen large bins of outgrown clothes that we’ve been toting around and that equals a lot of Lose Weight Exercise and bulk that has to go on a moving truck.  I figured I’d organize the clothes, give them a quick wash to freshen them up and post a listing on craigslist.

Welcome to Operation Timesuck.

Step 1: Locate and unpack boxes of outgrown clothes. Assume they are basically organized by size as you labelled the containers meticulously when packing them up.

Step 2: Realize your error as size categories are totally inconsistent. Question the difference between size 6 months, size 6-9 months and size 6-12 months and why two shirts in the same size are dramatically different in size. Curse the lack of a universal sizing system to force clothing manufacturers to assure consumers some tiny bit of uniformity from brand to brand. Spend hours days sorting and resorting until you have 10 clear size categories divided into 2 lots each of summer and winter clothing.

Step 3: Get a little weepy and nostalgic over tiny outfits and the memories associated with them…

 

…and ruthlessly throw everything into the bins but a very few select items to keep.

Step 4: Decide the clothes are more likely to sell on craigslist if you have pictures of them. Start photographing. 

Step 5: Realize the clothes really need to be ironed in order to appear decent in the pictures. Pull out the iron and dig in.

Step 6: Realize your iron is not working properly about ten minutes in.

Step 7: Eventually get around to replacing iron.

Step 8: Realize that spending money on a new iron is exactly as glamorous as it sounds. 

Step 9: Spend hours days weeks months ironing. Realize half way through that this project is a hell of a lot more work than you anticipated.

Step 10: Alternate between ignoring and bitching about the bins of clothes cluttering up your kitchen.

Step 11: FINALLY finish the process of organizing, sorting, washing, ironing and photographing. Proceed to post ad on craigslist. Wait anxiously for responses.

Step 12: Wait some more.

Step 13: Astonished by the deafening virtual silence, spend some time re-examining your strategy and prices. 

Step 14: Alternate between ignoring and bitching about the fact that there are 20 bags of clothes in your kitchen on which you have wasted hours and hours of time and energy and have not made a single penny. In fact, you have lost money because of the new iron.

Step 15: Have your husband move said bags back down to the garage where they came from. 

Step 16: Drown your sorrows in pre-Easter candy and enjoy your clean kitchen. Vow to rework this project again. At some point. In the future. Because you need a break. Again.

Mar 29

This interview has been showing up on blogs and Facebook and it seemed like fun. I wasn’t prepared for the performance anxiety my daughter experienced when I asked her to answer questions! She was very concerned about getting the answers “right”. Isn’t it fun, seeing your neuroses handed down from generation to generation? 

Anyway, we did eventually come up with answers of one kind or another for every question and here they are:

1. What is something mommy always says to you?
  Be careful.

2. What makes mommy happy?
 When we do something right? 

3. What makes mommy sad?
 When we do something wrong! 

4. How does your mommy make you laugh?
 By tickling me. 

5. What did your mommy like to do when she was a child?
  I think it was to maybe braid her hair because it was long?

6. How old is your mommy ?
 Twenty-eight I think? (She got it right!)

7. How tall is your mommy ?
 About this tall (jumps and reaches as high as she can). 

8. What is her favorite thing to watch on TV?
 The news. (Ummm….no! I very VERY rarely watch the news.)

9. What does your mommy do when you’re not around?
 Work on your computer 

10. If your mommy becomes famous, what will it be for?
 Concerts. 

11. What is your mommy really good at?
 Ummm….I think…getting…untying knots. (What???)

12. What is your mommy not very good at?
  She’s not very good at maybe climbing rocks, maybe? (Probably true. Still, where did she come up with that idea?)

13. What does your mommy do for her job?
 Nothing. (OUCH.)

14. What is your mommy ‘s favorite food?
 Onions. (Fail.)

15. What makes you proud of your mommy?
 When she lets us do stuff that we want to do. 

16. If your mommy were a cartoon character, who would she be?
  Buster Baxter (from the tv show Arthur).

17. What do you and your mommy do together?
 Talk. 

18. How are you and your mommy the same?
 We both have blond hair. 

19. How are you and your mommy different?
 You have glasses and I don’t. 

20. How do you know your mommy loves you?
 Cause she tells me. 

21. What does your mommy like most about your daddy?
  I think it’s his face.

22. Where is your mommy ‘s favorite place to go?
 To the jewelry store? (At least, if mommy ever went there, it would probably be her favourite place!)

Mar 14

When people ask me how old my kids are I have this bad habit of framing it in terms of how old they will be, instead of how old they are. I often say “He will be three in June,” instead of “Two and a half,” or even just “Two”.  As soon as they have a birthday I’m already thinking ahead to the next one, thinking in terms of the next milestone.

There are several problems with this little foible. First, it creates false expectations. I expect Kieran to behave and function like a three year old long before he turns three because I am subconsciously thinking of him as a three year old. Any parent will tell you there can be a big difference between a two year old and a three year old. Or a two-years-and-nine-months year old (his age right now) and a three year old. Or even between two three year olds. I’m all for believing in my kids, encouraging them to stretch and grow and exceed expectations, even for gently pushing them when it’s appropriate. But it’s not fair to them to have a mother who constantly expects them to behave like an older child or communicate and understand concepts beyond their years.

Which brings me to the second problem: it’s not fair to me either. I’m an idealist. I always have been. I constantly imagine how things will be better when [insert time/event/behaviour/circumstance]. The crux of waiting for fairytale endings is that it prevents me from enjoying the present. I don’t want to rob myself of the pleasure of each day of my kids’ lives.  I don’t want to miss the little moments and special things about them at the exact ages they are right now. 

I need to appreciate my five years and seven month old who wants to know about my wedding and dresses up like a bride…

… and who writes stories on a daily basis, reads proficiently, and expresses herself in such a very earnest way.  I would hate to miss the way she stomps her foot when her jacket zipper gets stuck or demands that I tell her if the Easter Bunny is REALLY real.

I love the little boy who is two years and nine months old who wants me to snuggle with him til he falls asleep each night and who I have to tell that he can’t fill his hands with rocks every time we are out on our gravel driveway. It would be a shame not to take time to appreciate the way he tries to stuff 18 markers into his tiny shirt pocket…

… or the way he runs around with a box on his head pretending to be a “bad space man” (which I know because he tells me “Mine [My] BAD Space Man!”) or constantly asks “whyyyyy mama???” or the last remnants of his babyhood that still linger even while he trying to be just like daddy by pecking away at the computer and deleting my downloads folder AGAIN.

There is so much to appreciate in each moment and it can be tricky to remember that sometimes. Here’s to this moment, and all the ones to come!

Jan 28

It was bound to happen sooner or later. But honestly, I was not prepared to deal with this so early. How does a mother react, knowing such events have transpired which are beyond her knowledge and control?

It all started out innocently enough. My daughter had become good friends with a little boy in her kindergarten class, let’s call him Child Of Boundless Energy. As it happens, COBE’s family lives just one house over from us and back before Christmas we thought it would be nice to invite him over for pizza/movie night with our kids since the two of them were such good friends at school.

Because COBE’s mom is a delightful human being, she helped him purchase flowers to bring Avery for their DATE (COBE’s words, not mine or his mother’s)!!! I was surprised that COBE was taking this so seriously, but he was totally adorable when he showed up and handed the flowers matter-of-factly to Avery the moment he walked in the door, so what could I say?

I made the two of them pose for a picture later to capture the moment for purposes of future embarrassment historical record:

As an aside, GOOD LORD, five year old boys are a freaking force of nature! If you could bottle that energy for sale it would almost certainly be classified as an illicit drug rocket fuel. Luckily COBE is a generally well-behaved kid and the two of them got along mostly without incident – although we did not watch a movie that night as the kids were so ramped up by the excitement of playing together outside of school that they were incapable of sitting still for longer than 2 seconds to wolf down pizza. 

Cue, this Monday. COBE is once again over to play. They are tearing apart our second floor while I am making dinner. Avery comes running downstairs giggling and prancing around as 5 year old girls are wont to do.

“I have a secret!” she says.

“Oh?” I respond nonchalantly, “And what is this secret about?”

Thank the sweet baby Jesus this child is not a naturally gifted liar. “COBE kissed me! And then I kissed him! It’s supposed to be a secret!” she blurts out in a fit of giggles.

….

After I picked my jaw up the floor we had a short discussion about kissing being an activity for when she’s older and that it’s nice to show we like someone by telling them so or hugging them.  Then she ran off to play with her boy-toy some more.

OMG! Are you kidding me??? My vixen of a five year old has already talked an honest lad into giving up his virtue under my very roof! Is it too early to lock her up? And what do I tell his mother???

Cupid, have mercy!

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: ……?

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

Dec 7

Today, for the first time, I actually realized that my five year old is coming close to the point of becoming a useful person in contributing to our household (in more than general cuteness and telling goofy jokes).  She helped me clean the bathrooms y’all! THE BATHROOMS!!! It won’t be too long before I can hand one of my most hated jobs into the capable hands of my offspring! Hallelujah! 

I had totally forgotten about this part of parenting, possibly because I really haven’t experienced it yet. I mean, she can clean up the toy room and her own room. If I’m willing to wait two hours for the task to be done. But this! This is something that will make a substantial difference in my our quality of life!

Do you remember doing chores as a kid? I remember a period of time when my sisters and I had to either wash the dishes, dry the dishes or sweep the floor each day after dinner. And, like any bratty kid, I whined about this. Because why does the floor need to be swept EVERY DAY???  That little handful of crumbs we swept up could be done at least every other day or even less frequently! My mom was SO UNREASONABLE.

But now that I’m the one who sees each of those little crumbs as an assault on my home and sanity and not just annoying but basically innocuous, it is a freaking gift from the sweet baby Jesus to have a couple of my own slaves helpers to lighten the burden of housework! I realize it’s going to require a bit of training and instruction and probably a couple more years before we get there but I think after two awful pregnancies, two c-sections, two colicky babies, sleepless night, rocking and kissing and wrapping and loving and soothing and just making it through the preschool years by the skin of our teeth, I have earned myself a little slave labour help around here!***

*** And by I, of course, I mean we, because my hubby is forced to do cheerfully does a lot of the work around here.

Nov 21

 

  • When reading a certain favourite story she says “Mommy, this is my favourite page of this story because I like the word arose.” I totally get that. I love that kind of language. It’s why I loved to read the Oz books and Lucy Maud Montgomery’s and Frances Hodgson Burnett’s stories. 
  • She is as easily discouraged by her inability to do things perfectly the first time as I am, despite my concerted efforts to not pass on this trait and show her that all that is important is that she try her best.
  • She frequently sits down to write stories. When I was a child I loved to do this. Her most recent titles? The Lonely Pony and The Boy Who Was Allergic to Flowers.
  • Her inability to understand mean kids’ actions or why anyone would have a problem listening to and immediately obeying the teacher or other authorities. We are rule-followers, her and I.
  • She loves to give gifts and is constantly making cards and “presents” for people. One of her favourite imaginary games to play with her little brother is “giving presents” where they wrap up their toys in their special blankets and solemnly present them to each other.  
  • She has a bossy side and it shows up frequently in her interactions with her little brother as mine did with my sisters.
  • She wants to be told, over and over, that she is loved and accepted and appreciated and that she is good enough.

I know she won’t be an exact copy, but it’s frightening how many of my own traits I recognize in her. Some are thrilling. Others make me worry for the hard lessons she will have to learn as she grows. It’s like watching a younger version of myself going out to make the same mistakes and it feels like I have so little power to stop it. I try to gently guide her to stand up for herself and I suspect she has more chutzpah than I ever did. I just hope I can figure out the right way to nurture it.

« Previous Entries Next Entries »