The Gift of Giving

I wish you all a Happy New Year as we prepare to ring in a new decade. When I look back on the last ten years, the blessings far outweigh the losses. However, all the ups and downs have helped shape my family in some way. The last ten years have brought about my own two angels, a niece and nephew for my brother and his wife and new homes for everyone in my extended family. As Advent draws to a close I want to reflect on the highlights of my Christmas.

We were surrounded by family and friends over several days and we all enjoyed too much food and sweet stuff. There were quiet moments, moments of laughter and time for introspection. I watched my own angels give gifts they thoughtfully selected and wrapped. I held babies and hugged elderly relatives. It was a magical Christmas.

As we look forward to 2011 my mind and my prayers are concentrating on the miracle of healing for several loved ones. These individuals have all played an integral part in shaping my life and the lives of those I love. Two of these incredible people are friends who are more like family. I ask you to join me in adding your prayers to mine and those of my family. Prayers to bring healing and peace to these special ladies and their families. At this special time of year, when we celebrate God's greatest gift to us, we need to trust in Him.

May He continue bless us all in 2011. Happy New Year.

The Power of Advertizing

You can't doubt the power of advertizing, explicit or subliminal, in society today. My little people are of the age when they are no longer content with Treehouse television being the extent of their viewing options. Earlier this year we opted to add some shows from YTV and TVO. With these new stations came the introduction of my nine and six year old to the power of commercials. Never before had they whined for the latest toy or begged for a certain game. They had remained oblivious to the fads and trends in Canadian toy stores. Now, with Christmas ads a-plenty they are being tempted and taunted by all the bells and whistles used by advertizing agencies.

Gone are the days when we could cruise the aisles of the grocery and department stores without one of my little people reciting the benefits of night cream, the volumizing properties of shampoo and the stain removing power of laundry detergent. Amusing at the best of times, and nauseating at the worst of times my offspring can repeat, verbatim, several ads they have seen on television. You might say they watch too much. They don't, honestly. However, their rapt attention to commercials speaks to the power of those 30 seconds of persuasion. My concern, as a parent and an educator, is how to instill an ability in children, to think critically about what they see and hear? I talk to them about what they watch and caution them against believing whatever they see on television, but how do I know I am getting the message through to them? Time will tell, and until then I'll ignore my youngest's suggestions to start fighting my wrinkles now, while I still can.....it's too late to avoid gray hair, television advertizing has seen to that!

What Do You Do When......

From the time you hear your baby's first lusty cry you are blessed with the incredible job of being this little person's protector. A formidable job, to be sure and one that gets harder as your little people grow. It is a relatively easy task when they are small. They're hungry, or wet, or tired and they cry. You feed, change and settle them to sleep and all is right in their little worlds. As they grow the job description changes slightly.

Gone is the simple solution, their hurts take more skill to heal, but a lot of things can still be made better with a band-aide, a hug or a cookie. But what do you do when a cookie can't fix their problems and a hug doesn't heal their pain? Nothing prepares you for the moment when you can't fix what is bothering your little person. Some of these situations even call for the 'protectors' to step back and wait as their young ones flounder about. Nothing prepares you for the helplessness you experience when you can no longer make it all better. In order to raise responsible, respectful children we sometimes have to watch from the sidelines as they take their lumps, endure natural consequences and begin to learn to 'fix' their own hurts.

I don't know who this frightens more, the child or the parent. I seem to be experiencing this in spades this year. My daughter is unhappy in school for the very first time and I can only help her cope with home support and platitudes that, "we can't always love our teachers" and "next year will be better." My son is the peacemaker who wants everybody to like him and despite his best efforts and noble intentions, one little classmate remains elusive. They're both learning valuable life lessons and I've been downsized from protector to pained observer and silent cheerleader.

The song Life Is A Highway comes to mind right now. Not every journey is a smooth one, but it brings us slightly closer to where we want to be. As they journey, I'll always be right beside them, just as a back seat driver.

The Miracle of the Pause Button

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to step back into some long distance friendships when the opportunity presents itself. I had the pleasure of reuniting with two roommates from fourteen years ago! Occasional emails aside, we have very minimal contact with one another, yet in a nanosecond of reuniting we were transported back to the 'flat' and a rather heated debate about skim vs homogenized milk. It felt as though no time had passed and any moment one of us would run off to an evening lecture or another would propose a chocolate run to the all night grocery store. Why is it so easy to pick up where we left off with some individuals? There is an often circulated tidbit on the web that talks about the type of people you journey with and 'the why' associated with each type of friend. I wonder if 'press pause' friendships are the friendships you keep for a lifetime? Whatever the reason behind this phenomena I am just thankful. It was so great to show off pictures and family and enjoy the time with one another. Did we make plans to meet again? No, we just pressed pause until the magical moment when we gather together once more. How simple. No expectations, no demands, just acceptance of each others' journeys and a quiet understanding that our paths will cross again.

They're Back!

The day has come and my little people have returned to school. I have shifted gears, with my paying job taking front seat to my other full time position. It was very difficult to go about my duties when my thoughts and my heart were with my littlest as he began his first day of Grade One. I kept a constant watch on the clock and tried to imagine what he was doing at that exact moment. It is enough to drive a mother crazy (it would be a short drive though, as I'm halfway there already.) He asked me if I was sure he had to stay all day and he couldn't understand why he was getting a snack and a lunch. It looked like so much food in his little Spiderman lunch bag. Funny thing was, when I picked him up he was ready to eat anything that wasn't nailed down. The only thing he could do more of than chew was yawn. He was one tired, hungry, happy guy and the first day of Grade One was deemed, 'awesome!'

My eldest, not to be outdone by her brother, kept up a steady monologue about her day. Whether I tried to talk to her about planners, lunches, making good choices or gym clothes the standard response was, "Yes Mom, I KNOW!" She walked in a circle around our main floor and talked the entire time. I know everyone who is in the class, where they sit, what they wore, who they like/dislike, what they ate for breakfast......you get the idea. After a solid two hour debriefing she deemed the first day, "alright." I think that is Fourth Grader-ese for awesome. At least that's what I'm hoping.

So we're back into the fall routine for better or for worse. What do I plan to do differently from last year. Less, is my answer. As I look at these little people of mine, I'm realizing that they are the bright capable people I want them to be. So in order to maintain some semblance of sanity I am passing the torch down to them. They can pack the lunches (with help), make their beds (I won't interfere), load the dishwasher (I'll buy plastic plates) and maybe I can slow the gray hairs just a little bit. At least until the teenage years hit, then I'm going to shave my head! That's if I have any hair left.

We Woke Up Dry...

That's right, we woke up dry. No, I don't mean bed-wetting, I'm referring to our latest camping trip. The spell is broken. We successfully completed a five day, four night foray into the wilderness and it did not end with rain! I am so excited.

What a wonderful trip, well at least it was from my perspective. Let's tally it up:

50 points scored for no rain

25 points scored for no serious cuts, bruises or breaks (that's huge with a youngest nicknamed Crash)

25 points scored for no black bear issues (there is always that chance when camping in the northern regions in Ontario)

25 points scored for two smiling children at the end of it all.

Of course there were the moments we want to forget. My youngest is not the most patient of individuals and is rather persistent in his requests/demands/pleas to go swimming, climb trees, go walking and fishing. However, the bright spot is the fact that he wants to do these things with his loved ones. All too soon will come the time when we are the last ones he'll want to spend his time with. We will be replaced by his friends and we'll be the ones pleading for his time and attention.

My eldest is not exactly a morning person and there is not too much room in a tent to 'give her her space.' Thankfully everyone is familiar with her rather skeptical view of morning. She does not see it as a fresh start but instead, as a re-run she's all too happy to skip.

I was just thankful for the time with those I love. Time to sit, time to appreciate the gifts we often take for granted. It is amazing how a dose of down time fuels us for the days ahead. I cherish the memories I have from our latest camping trip. They'll help sustain me until I can return to that quiet place once again.

The End Is Near

Have you ever participated in a race? You know that moment when you are physically drained, emotionally finished and your blurred vision is fixed on the finish line? I'm there. I'll admit that although I am not actually counting the minutes, I am looking forward to the return of routine and structure. Come on, confess, you know exactly what I am talking about.

As the summer draws to a close I am attempting one last hurrah. We are going camping, again. Those of you who have read my other posts know how our camping trips always end... with r#@n. Yes, rain has become a four letter word when combined with a camping trip. Cross your fingers and join me in my rather fanatical fascination of the weather network. My parents, myself and the kiddos are heading north, far north, potentially 6 hours in a car, north (oh dear.... what was I thinking?) I am looking forward to the majestic vistas of leaves and lakes. I cannot wait to hike, swim and visit with loved ones in a relaxed setting. I can wait for the feasting mosquitos, the sticky mess of marshmallows and the persistent whine of, "how much longer?"

I need this trip. It is one last attempt to make summer memories to last a lifetime. When we return, we will gear up for a return to school, work and the normalcy that I crave. But, until then, we're going camping again and you know what that means? I'll have lots and lots of laundry.

Inquiring Minds Want To Know

How much information is too much information when children start to question? This summer we've tackled some doozies.

My sister-in-law is expecting her second little one in the next few weeks and this blessed event has piqued the curiosity of my kiddos. My eldest knows how babies are born and has told her younger brother that he doesn't want to know the details. He just wants to know if the eyelashes tickle when you swallow the baby to put it in your tummy? I went with the standard, "nope, the eyelashes don't tickle." I think I've learned there is merit in only answering specifically what is asked and not explaining too much.

We tried to outlaw the three 'biggies' from their inquiring minds. You don't ask how much someone weighs, how old adults are and how much money someone has. My little ones seem to understand that these are off limits, but one can never predict what they will think of to ask.

My eldest wants to know if her husband can have the children because she is not having a baby burst out of her. My youngest wants to know how much a house costs and if he has enough tooth fairy money for his own mansion. It is hard to take their questions seriously sometimes. One must try hard not to laugh and yet still give a suitable response.

I'm struggling with the questions of an eight year old and six year old, but I am determined to keep up. I'd rather they continue to question me as it tells me where their heads are at and keeps our lines of communication open. At the very least some of the 'doozies' keep us laughing.

Do I or Don't I?

I am blessed with time off over the summer months, but sometimes time off translates into time to think. And this, my friends, can turn a blessing into a curse.

Do I or don't I? That is a loaded question. Do I sand and re-mud the drywall in my basement? Do I strip the wallpaper panels and out-dated boarder from my dining room and living room walls? Do I buy a new car? In the summer, with time to weigh the pros and cons, time to contemplate and time to procrastinate I don't accomplish all that much. Why do I need the pressure of work deadlines and commitments to force my hand and light a fire under myself?

I don't have a suitable answer. "Because I just do" doesn't quite pass muster. However, it is the truth. Acknowledging this weakness in myself is a big step. I could trace this quality back through university and the frantic writing of essays in the wee hours of the morning before an assignment was due. I can trace it back to high school and the manic cramming before exams. When did this need for pressure in order to perform develop in me? Your guess is a good as mine. I don't see this quality/affliction in other members of my family. Maybe they possess it and just hide it better than I can. Whether or not I am alone in this, I figure knowing my weakness is half the battle. I need to look on the bright side; I've got the rest of the summer to think on it!

I Caved!

If you have ever loved and lost a dear pet you know exactly what I meant when I said I would NEVER have another cat.

I have lived without Mcduff, the most extraordinary feline imaginable, for almost three years. I could not fathom replacing him as I knew no other cat would live up to his acclaim. My youngest has been quite persistent with his requests for a cat. It is all he asks for and I have found it difficult to deny his request. We have a dog, a big rambling goof who has worked his way into a revered member of our family, but my little guy wants a cat.

Hubby and I were at a wedding on the weekend and he was talking with my friend about cat rescues and adoption agencies. I tried to plug my ears and repeat my well rehearsed mantra, "no more cats, no more cats." No one paid me any attention. I think this is because they know me better than I like to admit.

The next day we went about our usual routines when the phone rang. My brother and his wife had been caring for a stray cat in their neighbourhood and wanted to know if we would like it! Hubby said, "sure" and I went to the store for litter and food supplies. With in half an hour an orange, long haired cat, we've named him Finnigan, was hiding under a bed trying to acclimatize himself to his new surroundings. Piper, our dog, and Finnigan still need to come to an understanding, but my youngest has a perma-grin that shows no signs of diminishing anytime soon. So, I caved. I admit it. But, parenting is about compromise and opening your heart just a little bit wider everyday.

I Survived!

I've just finished crawling out from under a mountain of wet laundry, tents and sleeping bags. Like with every other camping trip, it rained the night before we were to come home. Why is it that I forget about the rain after a trip? It is kind of like how mothers 'forget' the pain of labour and do it all again. It isn't until you are into a heavy contraction that you say to yourself, "What on earth was I thinking!?"

The rain that showered us this trip cannot be described as a gentle sprinkle, a good soaking or a persistent downpour. I could have handled any of those. This rain was unlike anything I have ever experienced. It seemed intent to infiltrate every available space. Our industrial strength tarp was no match for this rain; it may as well have been tissue paper for all the refuge it provided. Rain spilled out from our camping barbeque and overflowed the fire-pit. Add to all of that, the most potent electrical storm I've ever witnessed. A non-stop light and thunder show for over 4 hours.

Do you know what the real phenomenon is though? It's not the severity of the storm. My children slept through it!!!! Let me explain why this is so shocking: My youngest is not known for sleeping. IF he goes through the night without waking, it is as close to miraculous as can be. My oldest wakes at the slightest of noises and remains so until morning. But, they slept through a thunderstorm that will most likely go down into the camping history books. It is not up to me to ask why. I will just remain forever thankful that they did sleep through it all. It's kind of like the rainbow at the end of the rain.

Give Me Strength...We're Going Camping

The van is packed and the food is ready. We're going camping and I think I've lost my mind.

As I write this, I have a bird's eye view of the kitchen where my fridge is sporting no fewer than five lists. Lists for what to pack, what to serve each meal, what to turn off, or on, before we leave. No where, on any of those lists, does it mention packing an extra dose of patience, but I know I'm going to need it. Patience or more alcohol than any human should endeavour to consume in one weekend.

My youngest started with the, "how many more sleeps?" question about seventeen sleeps ago. My eldest (she's a type A personality) has every nano second planned and organized right down to when she and I will play Uno at 7:15 on Friday evening. I contemplated packing a couple of juicy novels for my own reading pleasure, but who am I kidding, I won't have the chance to read.

I was revamping our first aid kit in preparation for our foray into the wilderness. I chuckled at the limited first aid kit my hubby and I had BK (before kids.) Now, I have every conceivable size band-aide, insect bite lotion, allergy medicine...you name it I've got it. Now, you might say I am being overly cautious, but you haven't met my youngest. At an early age we nicknamed him 'Crash.' If he could walk into it, trip over it, fall off of it, wedge himself under it, he'd do it. From the ages of 6 months to 4 and a half there is not a single picture where he isn't sporting a scab, bruise or scar on his head. That's my boy! A smart mom is prepared for every eventuality when she takes the family camping.

Will we have fun? Oh most definitely. Will we make memories to last a lifetime? Without a doubt. Will I need a vacation when we get home? You better believe it, but not until the laundry is done.

Just Like Cats and Dogs

If I need to referee another argument between the two short people in my life I am going to scream.

I swear they have a unique timing sensor implanted somewhere on their bodies. This sensor scans for the most inappropriate time and then signals the short people to begin their antics. If I could, I would isolate this mechanism and have it surgically removed.

Summer seems to increase their propensity to argue. It begins with the simplest of things and escalates with the speed of a rocket. I have the patience of a saint when managing the behaviours of other people's children. My voice stays calm as I encourage distraught children to a compromise and restore harmony once again. I can stop bad attitudes and smart mouth responses with a single steely glance, but with my own children, I'm sunk!

I'm beginning to think part of me is so wounded that my OWN children would behave in such ways. It leaves my defenses quaking as I work through my arsenal of behaviour management techniques. Maybe I need some new tricks, maybe they're just building an immunity to my methods? Whatever the reason, or combination of reasons, I'm not ready to admit defeat! I will rise like a phoenix from the ashes and triumph (even if it kills me.) I can't let them win....it's only the middle of July! Wish me luck.

I Don't Sound Like That....Do I?

"That is completely inappropriate.......I am disappointed in the choice you are making........I would be more than happy to play that game with you."

Wait a minute, those are my lines! Well they were until they were adopted by my eldest. She is eight and a half with the working vocabulary of a third year doctoral student. How does that happen?

As new parents we made a conscious effort not to 'talk down' to our children. In my line of work I see far too many young people seemly incapable of articulate speech. Who am I kidding, they seem incapable of more than one word answers. Truth be told, I work with some adults who avoid opportunities to engage in rich conversations. Oral communication is fast becoming a lost art. In the age of msn, twitter and hand held texting devices our society values brevity over quality and clarity. I might be in for a long listen when my daughter begins to retell her favourite part in a book or when she launches into a tale filled with imaginative characters and improbable situations, but I applaud her ability to express herself. I admit to occasionally cringing when she sounds like an adult, with her effective use of phrases and one liners, but I rest assured she can communicate. I pray it is a skill she takes with her as she wades into adolescence.

Children really are sponges. There is no doubt in my mind about that. My eldest is living proof that youngsters say what they hear, do what they see and are thirsty for knowledge. As the adults influencing and 'filling' our next generation we have to ensure we are providing the best quality fuel for their growing minds.

Loosing Teeth and Other 'Firsts'

I'm a little choked up today; my youngest just lost his first tooth. Talk about a big event in our house. First came the blood and the rinsing in the sink. Next, the hours spent staring in the mirror and poking his tongue through the gap. After that, we had to write to the Tooth Fairy requesting the privilege to keep this pearly white baby tooth. So why am I sentimental? I guess I am thankful I was there to see it (to pull it out, if the truth be told.) I could have been in a meeting, teaching a class or driving home from work, but I was granted an audience at the loss of my son's first tooth. So many 'firsts' are witnessed by someone other than a working mom. So many times we have to smile and pretend we're not crushed that we missed yet another of these special moments. At the end of it all, I'm sure we're the only ones keeping score. No one else remembers if we were there for the 'first tooth moments.' No one else beats us up over our absence. Why do we?

What do I want to be when I grow up?

My youngest just asked me, "Mom, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Funny, most questions can be answered with a flippant, no, yes, we'll see, maybe or NOT ON YOUR LIFE! but this one caught me off guard, for several reasons. Was I not already grown up? Wasn't I already 'something?'

What or who am I? To the two short people in my life I'm simply Mom. Not a fancy title for sure, but on a good day, the best job in the world. To my colleagues, I am a teacher, and this is an incredible privilege. To my husband I am many things, all at once. But, if I could choose again, what would I be?

There are so many possibilities: Antique dealer, gift store owner, tea room proprietor,

Hmmm, I guess I can explore the question of what I'll be when I grow up, when I grow up....if I grow up....should I grow up?

Summertime and the living isn't so easy....

Wow, what a great place to express my thoughts and share my experiences.

As a working mom I feel more like a juggler in a psychedelic circus. A juggler with far too many hats and not enough hands. I know, nothing new and there are plenty of women out there with the same struggle, which is why we need to stick together.

So, summer is here and for the moment, I have only one full time job. My children.......Yes, I do agree they are my most important and impressive accomplishment (on a good day) and they are a walking representation of my success (or lack there of) as a parent.

Explain to me how my 5 year old can turn "Mommmmmmmm" into the most dreaded word in the world, especially when it is followed by a, "she looked at me, touched me, breathed on me......?" It sends chills up my spine and cuts straight through to my last nerve faster than a finely tuned Ferrari. It is all exacerbated by our lack of air conditioning when the humidex is pushing 43 degrees. When does school start again?

But guess what? Tomorrow is a new day and I get to do it all over again.....oh joy!