Pancake Batter in my Hair...Life with Xander & Liam

The Difference Good Teaching Makes

2012-02-08T14:40:00.004-05:00

We swim. My Mom learned to swim just off the St Laurence at a place called "The Yacht Club". Sounds swanky, but it was the 1950s and everyone just swam there. My Dad learned in the pond on the back of my grandparents' property. I managed to be one badge shy of being able to go for my lifeguard certification. Ray swims.

Xander has been in swimming lessons since he was three (we did one round of the tots and parents and that was one round too many for me!). He swims. But last term's lessons ended with him being terrified of the deep end, insisting he could no longer swim, and a fight for every lesson just to get him to the pool. And I found out why: the instructor was not encouraging. He told my child that he wasn't a good swimmer and that he couldn't do it. And then he would tell him that he had to tread water for 10 minutes! It was quite the contradiction. I was mad and upset, so I told the head guard about it and pulled Xander out 3 lessons early.

Luckily I have a few contacts at the pool and I was determined to not let Xander stew in his misery and misconceptions. He *can* swim. He swam better than last term when he was 4 and 5! So I made sure he had a good teacher this time.

...and then I bribed him to get him in the pool. (15 minutes on his DS if he went in and worked hard, another 5 if he jumped into the water)

This is Xander swimming across the pool (he's the tiny head in the water) the second week of classes:

And this is him preparing to dive into the very deep end of the pool two weeks ago.
What's the difference? The young lady who is his teacher never tells him he can't do something. She tells him he's doing a good job, says things like "way to go!" and couches any extra instruction with "next time we will add/try..."

Xander would literally try to walk on the water for her!

We have been lucky that both of out boys have always had a daycare provider, preschool teachers, babysitters, family, and swim instructors who have been like this. And I fully admit, I didn't appreciate it nearly as much until it was gone. Now, I am appreciating it even more!

Before...

2012-01-27T08:59:00.003-05:00

Sometimes conversations come up about what I did before I had my kids. Last night, Ray and I were chatting with a friend who is in her mid-twenties and she asked how old I was when I had my kids.

I was in my 30s when I had both of my boys. Ray and I had been married 6 years. We'd been dating for 5 before we got married.

That's a long time to be together before children. Most people don't do that on purpose, but we did. A good chunk of that time was because we were still going to university. Once we were married, we also had job losses and gains and wanted to buy a house first. So we did.

Still, that leaves a lot of living to do before the kids came along.

I went to South Korea for about a year to teach English. It was a fun time, but also lonely and hard at times. I learned I could entertain myself, be alone, see and do things by myself, and be happy. I also learned it was more fun with someone. Ray and I had been dating for a bit less than 2 years when I left, he visited over Christmas, and then I came back to Canada and we continued our relationship.

We did a little traveling in Canada. It would have been more and further, but we also struggled financially at the time.

We bought our first car, got our first apartment together, had a roommate...and then didn't. We worked, lost jobs, and got jobs. Ray went back to school for a year.

I learned to run long distances and completed my first half marathon before my first child came. I also learned to knit (ironically, not for baby stuff, but to keep myself out of the fridge at night). I read a lot of books.

We ate out. We ate all kinds of different foods, and once even had a round of impulse eating (kind of like impulse shopping) with a friend at a fabulous Thai restaurant in St. Catherine's, Ontario. We experimented with cooking.

We went to GenCon in Milwaukee and then in Indy. We won second prize in the D&D Open Tournament. (I didn't play at all before I came back from Korea.) And we had fun. We met more people.

We made new friends and spent time with old friends.

We laughed. We laughed a lot!

We lived.

Do I regret having my children a bit later? Not a sniff. Do I miss those times? A bit, to be honest. But less every day. Best of all, I know we will have things to do and places to go when our kids are grown and doing their own things.

Is it much different now that we have the boys? This is where the irony lies: not very much. We do all of these things with the kids. We've traveled with them, gone to GenCon, see our friends, read, eat out and experiment with food, bought another house...you get the picture. It's our life together and we've introducing our boys to all of it a step at a time. It was harder when they were smaller, but as they no longer need booster chairs and diapers and playpens, it gets easier and easier. When they get older and have their own lives, I will miss having them with us, but I know that we will adjust again.

Ghostbusters, Curious George, and Toopy and Binou

2012-01-26T09:44:00.002-05:00

What do these shows have in common? They all keep Liam vastly amused while I shower, clean, spend time on the internet, or write.

Go figure.

BTW, I had to look up how to spell Toopy, and I have just recently discovered that Toopy and Binou is incredibly funny to a 3 year old.

Xander, on the other hand, is not amused by Curious George anymore. I get rolled eyes and "Can't we watch something else, Mom?"

Good thing Liam is feeling better and the two of them are now playing with the Lego again. I think I need a break from the television sounds too.

Time are a changin'

2012-01-24T14:48:00.002-05:00

It seems that times have changed and I rarely come to post on my blog anymore. It's been months and months, actually. Well, things have changed in our family.

We moved back in August. Our new house is only a short distance north of the old house, but it is in a slightly younger neighbourhood (the houses are 30 years old instead of 60-70 years old), the lots are smaller, and the houses are much bigger.

I am sure I will always love that little house that was our first real home. Indeed, sometimes I wonder if it was my first real home ever. Certainly I lived there the longest at almost 8 years. Plus, Xander was literally born in that house. Though the decision to move was a good one, there were many tearful moments for all of us when we left!

The new house is 1800 sq ft, not including the basement (our old one didn't hit 1100 sq ft with the basement, for the record), so we have plenty of room to grow. We also have offices for each of us and bedrooms for each of the boys, when they decide they are ready to live apart. For now, they share, because the mere mention of splitting caused much chaos and drama. I think it is kind of sweet that they want to be together.

A new house also means a new school. And Liam started preschool this year, so it's new schools all around. Both boys are enjoying their schools and Xander is especially tickled. He loves going to French Immersion and he is happier going all day, every day. In fact, the majority of his anxiety issues from last year have disappeared! Liam is pretty easy going, so he loves going to school.

Liam is almost caught up with his speech. We are very excited about this! It's nice to know what is going on in his world and have him interact that much more. In fact, there have been times when we have had to say, "Liam, you need to be quiet now!" Last week we got the gold seal of approval from the speech therapy people, who say he is ready for Junior Kindergarten in the fall. He still has to go to speech therapy to smooth out a few things, but they are pleased with his progress and know he will manage fine.

Which brings me to this week: I get to register Liam for Kindergarten!

Time flies.

I've not been working since the move. Mostly because who has time to unpack, settle in, volunteer at preschool, be a Beaver leader (yes, I volunteered to be part of the team that does our local Beaver group activities...and it's turned out to be a blast), and work too. I am working on settling that up though. I've been looking for work and have a few good leads. Plus, I am excited to get back to work again!

All in all, it has been a busy, but good time in our lives. Hopefully, I will remember to pop in here and post a big more often, now that writing is back on my radar.

Baby Mine

2011-04-20T07:13:00.003-04:00

This is the song that I sang over and over to Liam when he was an infant. He cried so much, and this seemed to help. More than that though, if we were in the car and he began to cry, little Xander, who was only 3, would start to sing it too.

Funny, I never thought I would miss those days.

Now I am posting this and the song is playing in the background and both boys are beside me, singing it softly.

How Much is an Inch?

2011-04-12T10:03:00.003-04:00

These days an inch means pants that are suddenly too short or finally just long enough. Pajamas that are too small. Shirts that don't quite fall over the waist.

There are a lot of short clothes on my boys these days. Both of them! I suddenly need to clear out old clothing and get out the next size for Liam and shop a bit too. They need new shoes. Pants. Pajamas.

So the other night, I was curious and measured them both. Liam is up an inch since the end of February. I knew I could almost watch him grow! Xander has finally reached 47", as he has been threatening since about Christmas time.

And I swear I am not putting miracle grow into their food.

The First Beautiful Day of Spring

2011-04-11T19:56:00.004-04:00

It always happens around this time of year: that first beautiful day of spring!

It's a day of renewal. Spring breezes and warm weather, coupled with clear blue skies, have that affect. The first few warm spring days have arrived here. Grass is growing, little buds are peeking through, and I can see that the rhubarb is just pushing up.

And my heart is so happy to see these things. My skin is soaking in the sun and the gentler winds (although, today they are anything but gentle).

However, the very first beautiful day of spring makes me think about Carole's. Carol had had lymphoma years before and she'd had radiation therapy to get rid of it. In a very small percentage of cases, years later that radiation can cause leukemia. Carole won that lottery. Fortunately, Carole was a fighter. And she fought through this illness too. She lost all of her gorgeous, thick dark hair, spent hours getting chemo, and days in the hospital.

We were friends from a very close-knit group at work. And we all went in small groups, sometimes 2, and occasionally just a single person. We watched her struggle, brought her warm blankets, small trinkets, and news from the outside world. We were there. We celebrated when she was told she was in remission.

And then the worst happened: somehow as Carole was getting better and feeling stronger...as she was standing in her bathroom and looking in the mirror and willing her hair to grow back in...she got the chicken pox.

It doesn't sound like a big deal, the chicken pox. And it generally isn't, except when your immune system has been destroyed. Carole had no immune system. It wasn't long before she was incredibly sick and in the hospital. We barely had time to get our heads around that news and the medical professionals deemed it necessary for Carole to be placed in a coma.

She died on the first, beautiful day of spring.

So, forgive me if I am examining the tulips and crying at the same time.

The Great Spider Incident of 2011

2011-02-22T08:42:00.002-05:00

Xander has a spider that his Grandpa (aka my Dad) gave him. It's a bit, hairy tarantula, to be exact. And the thing is dead and encased in a plastic bubble. It's going nowhere. Xander adores this thing and calls it Fred. (No, I am not joking.)

While I am not particularly enamoured with Fred, I also have no fear of him either.

My Mom (aka Nanny), on the other hand, is petrified of spiders. Why my Dad gave this doubious gift to my 5 year old, I will never understand.

Fred came to live with us in November and we hid him under a tissue while Nanny was here visiting. I thought that perhaps with Nanny arriving again tonight, we ought to put Fred away and insisted that he go into Xander's sock and underwear drawer.

This should be the end of the story, but my young son is one who stews and frets. So we put the boys to bed last night and Liam was out in about 30 seconds. Xander, on the other hand, came downstairs for snacks (got nothing, as he ate plenty at dinner) and to talk. Once he'd been run back to bed for the third time, he was heard singing and complaining loudly from his bed.

Ray went up to coax him into going to sleep. I hear words like, "Well, being quiet is the first step to going to sleep." were part of that conversation. Eventually Ray gave up and told me that there was something weird going on with Xander, who claimed he couldn't sleep.

I finished what I was doing, and then went upstairs to find that Xander had shoved all of his blankets and his pillow to the bottom of the bed and was lying on his sheet looking at the ceiling miserably. I did what I knew was the right thing: I climbed in.

Climbing into Xander's bed is no easy feat. He has a loft bed from Ikea. Getting in is not horrid, but getting out is a gymnastic accomplishment when you are in your 30s and the ceiling is sloped.

Xander was ticked off. He rolled as far away from me as possible and refused to share the pillow and blanket. I snuggled in and spoke to him a bit at a time.
What was wrong? Nothing. Was he upset? No.
I was quiet a moment.
Then we talked about the day. He liked playing with Play Doh today. The movie yesterday was good. And I asked him if he was really hungry and he started to get silly and tell me about making giant mounds of sushi (kid does love his sushi!).
After the giggles, we talked about how sometimes trying to sleep and not being able to sleep makes a person anxious about sleeping, which also makes it hard to sleep. Vicious circle.
And I prodded to see what was making him upset: was it school? Nope. Nanny and Grandpa's visit?

Paydirt!

Sobbing ensued. He was very happy for Nanny and Grandpa to come, but why oh WHY did Fred have to go away? He missed Fred. Fred was a friend. Please bring Fred back.

For the record, Fred spent the night IN Xander's bed. (Which made my Mom shudder when I told her the story.) And he will be on Xander's bookcase for the duration of the visit. His reasoning was that there was no way Nanny could get in there to see Fred. It's hard to argue, since the space is so tight between the end of his bed and the bookcase that I can't get in there either.

Most of the time we stand firm, but when something causes this much anxiety, it is sometimes better to negotiate and have peace and sleep.

Blogging, Coaching and Friends

2011-02-10T14:54:00.003-05:00

My friend Trina is an archer. She lives and breathes archery, and has become incredibly involved in both the sport and coaching her sport over the past number of years. I keep teasing her that I don't understand how she can keep up with all of it and work a full-time job and raise a child. She really is a phenomenal person.

But she works hard for it all.

This year, she is involved in the Canada Games, but has put a little spin on it. She's blogging about the experience for the Coaching Association of Canada.

So, if you have a few minutes, check her out and lend your support.

The Fat Conspiracy

2011-02-09T13:23:00.003-05:00

I've been thinking about fat lately. More like thinking about being fat. Pregnancy, small children, lack of energy, and a few running injuries have sidelined my usual healthy lifestyle. Not that I can remember ever being skinny, mind you, but lately I have been much heavier than I usually am and way over my own comfort zone.

I've done things about it. I joined Weight Watchers just before Christmas (and yes, I said before) and have been trying to go to the gym. I'm getting better. For me. It's a bit at a time, but that is perfect. Rome wasn't built in a day and neither was my jeans size.

As a little aside, I do love the new Weight Watchers program. It's brought me so soundly back in line with eating habits that I love and do my body good! I feel great. I am not hungry (who can be with all of that food!) and I am losing weight. It's all good.

However, one thing that makes me think is the meetings. I go for the accountability, truth be told, rather than for the tips or the inspiration. I find that a lot of the time, the focus of the meetings (or is it the group itself?) is on how you can find snacks for only a few points.

It's not a focus on healthy eating.

The last few programs made it so that I could eat a load of junk, if I desired, and stay on program. This one rewards healthy living. And still, we are talking about 2 or 3 point snacks. Why? Why? If I eat like that, I can't manage to eat enough points. If I don't eat enough, I don't lose weight.

I've been pondering this a lot lately. And I think it has to do with fat. Or being fat. And our cultural understandings or misunderstandings about being fat. The big assumption is that fat = overeating, eating the wrong stuff, and just being lazy. So, encouraging weight loss means encouraging eating small amounts and being rigourous about diet and exercise in general.

No where in there do we talk about enjoying your life. Enjoying the food you eat and the exercise you do.

Revolutionary idea, isn't it? Enjoying it.

When I think about the times I am not exercising and I am not eating well, by and large, I am not really enjoying myself. I might be going with the flow. I am often overburdened with work and childcare and life in general when it happens. I am definitely not enjoying myself. Often I feel awful from my poorer food choices.

Somehow, I cannot get it out of my mind that we are approaching weight loss all wrong. That our perceptions of what makes us fat and what keeps us fat are all wrong. And that we are collectively doing damage to ourselves and even our culture over this. We've developed a deep-seated conspiracy amongst ourselves over fat: being fat, gaining fat, and losing fat. And it is a mighty slippery slope.

Sleepiness

2011-01-27T22:06:00.004-05:00

We went to see the grandparents a few weeks ago. It was a late night for us all, and the kids didn't nap on the way down there. We had two tired little guys on our hands.

This was Liam, straight out of the car:

Ray managed to get Xander out of his boots and coat, only to have him flop on the kitchen floor with his favourite blanket.

I couldn't resist taking a couple of pictures just before we swooped them up and took them to their beds.

The Four-Way Stop Rant

2011-01-25T13:17:00.004-05:00

I hate four-way stops. Not because I can't or don't know how to navigate them, but because so many people are confused. Blank looks and panic abound. There seem to be several ways to deal with the uncertainty: one can pretend no one else is stopped and just blow through it like one is the kind or queen of the world, or sit there and wait for everyone else to go, or my all-time favourite is the waver. You know the waver: the one who waves everyone else through because he or she has no idea if it is his or her turn or not.

It's a simple concept folks. First of all, you ARE supposed to stop at a stop sign. And by stop, I mean that the brakes need to be applied all the way. Touching them lightly and skidding through is not a stop. It's also not a real stop if your back wheels are in front of the stop line. (This is true in intersections with lights too.)

Next, the person who stopped first gets to go first. Most of the time this is pretty obvious. If I sat there and watched you stop, you had better bet that I get to go first. Also, you may want to pay attention to other people on the road, as determining who stopped first is much easier if you aren't yapping, playing with your phone, or looking at your last manicure.

Last of all, if you happen to stop at the same time...the person to the RIGHT goes first. So, if I am sitting on your left, that would mean that you do not wave me through or skid through in hopes that I will not go on you. You stop nicely and proceed through the intersection. If there are 3 of you at this four-way stop, just go around until the person on the right who has no person on their right. Then that person goes first.

If 4 cars stop simultaneously at a four-way stop, everyone has to get out and thumb wrestle for the chance to go first.

My Dirty Little Secret

2011-01-24T20:32:00.004-05:00

I don't generally watch much television. I find that from season to season, there isn't much that appeals to me. Then to add trying to watch around our schedules and the kids' malarkey, and it has to be really good for me to bother. (Though I admit that online television makes me happy.)

However, I have found that there is nothing quite like watching television on DVD. And if I am sick too, it's a match made in heaven.

I once went through a whole season of Lost in 24 hours while sick with a massive sinus infection. You know, the kind where you only feel okay if you are laying down. I had to lay down for about 3 days while the meds kicked in. I'd never even seen Lost before, but I became an addict over that sinus infection.

Ray, Liam and I are sick. It's a beauty of a virus!
My television on DVD of choice: My Name is Earl. I had heard it was good and had the first season loaned to me by my friend Katrina. (Thank you, Katrina!) We've watched all but the last three episodes over the last few days. But the virus continues, so I may have to seek out the second season on my own.

Now you know my dirty little secret.

For the Love of Language

2011-01-19T14:16:00.000-05:00

Traveling with Children

2011-01-18T11:33:00.002-05:00

I've always assumed that when we had kids, we would just continue to travel. Period. With the exception of Liam's first year, because he was so fussy and didn't let any of us sleep, we have done so. It never occurred to me to do anything else.

The other day, I ran into an online post on a mommy site where there was a mother of a very young baby who said that she assumed they wouldn't travel again for 10 or more years. It stopped me in my tracks.

I don't think I know many people who think that way.

Xander did an 8 day, 8 state tour in the USA when he was only 14 months. By car! He's been to Maryland and Manitoba by plane. And last summer we went to New Brunswick and PEI by car with both boys.

They love to travel! And the funny part is that they are often much better behaved out and about than they are at home. (As an aside, I am not sure how to take that. I would like them to behave at home too, but I am very happy that they will do it when we are out.) And they learn things when we go away. Sometimes the things they learn are about the ocean floor and seaweed, but other times they learn more vocabulary or how to get down the stairs.

It is my belief that by exposing them to new things, they grow in many ways.

We might not be able to afford fancy vacations or large plane rides at this point, but we are doing out best to expose them to many people, situations, and sites.

Thankfully, as the boys grow, we have to bring less stuff with us as we travel, making it easier and easier. I think it is working too, because Xander often talks about the places we have been and asks when and where we will go next.

Anxiety in Children

2011-01-17T10:56:00.003-05:00

I'd never really thought about childhood anxiety. It's not something that gets much play in parenting magazines. Most parents don't sit around and compare their kids' anxieties like they do their abilities to sing, swim, read, and drive their siblings batty. We talk about sleep issues and food problems, but we don't talk about anxiety. Certainly nothing beyond the basic separation issues when the child is 9 and 18 months.

We might all talk about our sadness at them leaving us in stages: for preschool, kindergarten, and so on.

My beautiful, very bright 5 year old has anxiety. And it isn't a little anxiety. It's day-to-day world-altering anxiety. He's been diagnosed officially with Anxiety Disorder.

In retrospect, he's always had small signs. As early as he could talk (very, very early that is), he would say "Can I come too?" when we went to the mall or a restaurant. It was just the three of us back then, and the only option would be to leave him in the car. Of course he was coming! He took the comings and goings of family to heart and would sob when we had to leave someone at the airport.

On the flip side, he went off to preschool with a don't-let-the-door-hit-you-on-the-way-out attitude. Unless I was volunteering that day, and then he wanted to literally sit on top of me for circle time. His junior kindergarten year was much the same, though he also marched in line with the other four year olds, calling out very enthusiastic goodbyes to anyone he knew in the crowd.

And then he turned five.

I didn't know what to do with this little man who suddenly refused to let Ray and I go out. It took an hour, bribery and bargaining to talk him down from the emotional ledge on my birthday in June. He was staying with a sitter he'd had for 2 years and loved. Still, it took my cousin, who is a social worker with small, anxious kids, and myself to finally manage that. Each time we went out for months, it was accompanied by screaming and crying. Bedtime was suddenly a disaster: there were "bugs" everywhere (not a one in sight) and multiple trips to reassure himself that we were still there. Summer activities were a painful time. He had a soccer camp and the first day it took me 2 hours to remove myself.

Then his senior kindergarten year began. The little man who had walked in, proudly waving and shouting goodbyes to all and sundry was replaced by someone who not only cried at the prospect of going, but alternately had to be carried in, chased down, and walked in with hand-holding.

Once in school...or camp...or swimming class...or babysitting...he was fine. And he came out the other end smiling and laughing.

Ray and I were not so lucky. We felt like a large truck had jackknifed on top of us!

And I have been incredibly quiet this fall because of it. I've not been talking about the elephant that lives among us. But it is a very real elephant and I am tired of not talking about it.

My child has an anxiety disorder.

We've seen doctors and a psychiatrist. Thankfully we can get him to go to school and swimming and other such things. He's not so bad that we have to medicate him. (Which I would have been leery about, but there were a few months there where we would have given anything to just make it through the next day.) And now we are seeing a social worker to talk about it. I had no idea what was available to us for such problems. Now I do.

Very slowly, things are getting better. He sleeps well now and doesn't get up 40 times most evenings. He's easier to get to start new things. He still verbally protests at certain activities, but I am no longer the mother with the screaming child who is being physically carried into the pool area, school yard, and other places. And although he still gives big tears and loud protests, once the babysitter arrives, he could care less where we are going, as long as we GO.

It gets better. Slowly.

Liam Grows

2011-01-14T16:47:00.005-05:00

Liam is growing again. We can't seem to keep both of our boys fed. "I hungee" is a frequent chorus from our tiny sir. He doesn't lack for food, let me tell you. But he is growing. He's broken the 30 lb mark and then some. But he's still on the shorter side. (Of course, next to Xander's 90th percentile or more in height all the way through, this is hardly surprising.)

And he's talking so much now! We still need to attend speech classes: and yes, that is we, since they teach the parent and child. But his desires, needs and even dislikes are well known. I full sentences now. "Mommy, I want up." "More milk, please." and this morning, "I beat you upstairs!" We can no longer call him Silent Sam.
Occasionally though, we get a reprieve from those moments where we believe he has grown up and is no longer our tiny baby. Last night, we had one of those. Ray was reading to our boys and didn't even get through the first story when he looked over to see that Liam had crashed. Hard. I guess this is what we get for going for a haircut instead of having a nap.

Running, running, more running

2011-01-11T15:55:00.002-05:00

I've been a runner for 9 years now. It's become who I am and part of the air I breathe. It's not about putting in time or racking up miles: it's the eagerness to get out there, the memory of echoing footsteps, and the joy that courses through your veins.

I've had a few times when I couldn't run. I stopped about 6 months into my pregnancy for Xander, because I just didn't feel well doing it anymore. And then for 6 months after his birth, because I wasn't healing from that event. I also stopped while I was pregnant for Liam, because I had an early scare. I know that running won't cause me to lose a child, but it was enough to scare me and I just couldn't. I was back at it 6 weeks after his birth though!

When I wasn't running, I was dreaming about running and watching other people run with sheer envy. The first smells of spring make my feet itch. The crinkled smell of dried leaves makes me long for a good pace workout. And even the other day, it was snowing gorgeous chunky flakes and all I could think about was running in it. There's even beauty in those hellishly hot summer days that reminds me that putting one foot in front of the other makes me feel a little bit closer to being airborne.

Although the couple of years after Liam was full of great running events: including 2 half marathons. It was also full of injury. A year ago the third one hit me, as I pulled something in my hip. Nasty!

The psychological toll of those injuries has been far greater than the physical one (and that was no walk in the park either!). I stopped believing that I could do it. I've done a bit here and a bit there over the past few months, but I'm afraid that I can't do it. I am afraid that the word runner no longer applies to me.

Silly me.

I tried to walk on the treadmill at the gym today. Just walk. You know, for 30 minutes and then go home. I managed 10 minutes before I just couldn't take it anymore...I had to run. It didn't matter how fast or long or hard. I had to. And I did. I ended up running for a set of 8 minutes and two sets of 10 minutes. I just couldn't walk.

As I get older, sometimes I realize that some of these things we do are not things we do, but pieces of who we are.

Threads of Thoughts

2011-01-10T14:34:00.003-05:00

I've heard the program before, but was in love with "The Next Chapter" on CBC Radio with Shelagh Rogers today. I'm contemplating downloading some of the podcasts and listening to them when I need inspiration.

Lately, I've thought a lot about getting my teaching certificate, so I can teach high school English. I loved lots of things about teaching, when I did it for the year in Korea. And I adore everything to do with reading and writing. Plus, I am a real interactive type of person. You'd think that this would be the perfect career for me, but teaching was ridiculous to get into 15 years ago or so, when I graduated from university. So I didn't.

I miss the reading and writing part more than the teaching. Hmmm. Other avenues for that.

I've been making efforts to talk to and be with my creative friends. It's what I know. And my brain feels SO MUCH better for it. I feel human again.

Write what you know, would mean a big, loud Polish family. Lots of travel. Lots of reading. And running for good measure.

One of Shelagh's guests today was talking about a lack of identity. I don't lack identity, but it was a good thought exercise.

The Wall of Shame Returns

2011-01-09T19:23:00.004-05:00

We've always had a wall of the pictures of our family and friends. It grows and changes as time goes on. It's our own little tradition, and in the way of our family, we have used our tongue-in-cheek humour to name it the "wall of shame".

Last summer we finally finished our fireplace, which meant a bit of a change in the family room and living room/library layouts, and we had to remove the wall of shame. Shortly afterward the hallways and stairways were painted. And our pictures have been in boxes. Just waiting.

Today the wall of shame was resurrected. It's been brought up two floors and pared down a bit. We've noticed a few people missing you should be on it (my Dad and Liam). Soon we will paint our bedroom, so we'll have a few pictures and some art for that room too. For now, it looks like this:

We also hung up our friend Sarah's beautiful gift for us:
I have a load of pictures, both electronic and otherwise, to deal with. It's now a project on my radar, but for now the return of the wall of shame makes me happy and makes me feel more at home.

Makin' Changes

2011-01-08T19:41:00.002-05:00

Often the first blog of a new year is about changes and resolutions. I started a bit earlier this year. I started almost two weeks before Christmas. I joined Weight Watchers again (I'm a fallen lifetimer) and got a gym membership.

I keep telling myself that I will run from home and work out and and and... Yeah, that's not working so great. I have to admit to myself that I am not running very much lately. My desire is still there, but my confidence lacks and my hip is still sore sometimes. And not running quickly equals weight gain. Nice, considering I hadn't lost all of the weight I gained with Liam (who will be three come the end of February, so I have to start to claim that now as my own fat rather than baby fat). I'm still working on going to the gym as regularly as I aim to go, but my rather good excuse (hee hee) is that we had Christmas and NYE and visitors in there for 5 days. So I am impressed that I went at all. It's a journey, not an overnight change.

Weight Watchers has changed their plan. I like it. The last few versions left me hungry all the time. Did I mention I was hungry. Every single moment of the day. Did I? Well, that's no way to be successful. I didn't lose weight and I hated it and I dropped out and went back and dropped out and...not a great cycle. The new plan rocks. Lots of fruits and veggies, decent amounts of protein, and not impossible to get some carbs in too. It's a good balance. It's the balance that good athletes use (yeah, not me, because I'm not doing the athletic thing these days, but I will be there again). And I love it. Plus, this is the kind of eating I did do for ages and ages. It feels a lot like being guided BACK to where I want to be.

I'm down 5 lbs in the first 3 weeks too. And going strong. This, my friends, is not a resolution. This is a change and a mighty good one. My body agrees. Everyone is happy.

Work is on hold right now. No contracts being waved around. I'm trying to be patient about that, because I know that there will be more coming.

We're doing clean outs around here. Also started before Christmas.

Oh, and the biggest change yet: Liam can now sit through a whole movie. We took the boys to see "Yogi Bear" in 3D last night and they both sat quietly and were entertained mightily for one hour and 23 minutes. Bliss!

Time Passes

2010-12-29T07:29:00.002-05:00

My parents have come and gone. My nephew had another birthday and is somehow six now (which means Xander will be 6 in a few short months as well!). We lost a friend suddenly and inexplicable to organ failure. I finished a technical writing contract. Christmas came and went. We are looking forward to friends visiting from Baltimore; they arrive tomorrow and stay until early next week. The New Year is coming. School will begin again. And I have heard that there will be more technical writing in 2011 too.

So much has past and is coming up.

I've mostly been silent because of having so much going on. Other days it is because I am busy chewing on my own thoughts and not sharing as much.

Liam is almost 3 now. He's suddenly really talking and it is mighty cute! Not so cute is the intense "WHY?" to everything. He also will answer "this" when asked what he is doing. I am having a glimpse into the 14 year old Liam.

Xander made me laugh with, "Well, that doesn't surprise me." the other day. Nothing gets by him.

Ray and I are busy, but enjoying some time off from work for two weeks and enjoying each other's company lots.

"Is it easy?"

2010-11-11T22:30:00.005-05:00

On Tuesday, Xander and I were talking. I was whispering sweetness to him. We have a game where we tell each other how much we love each other. How much equals how far for Xander, because he is 5. So it goes something like this: "Mommy, I love you to Star Command and then Jupiter, and then Uncle Bill and Auntie Karen's house, and then home again." (If you don't know about Star Command, may I suggest the Buzz Lightyear cartoons that are a sideline to the Toy Story franchise.) Lately, he's learned about infinite, so that features into our conversations too.

It's fun to play with words and discover new meanings with a kid who is verbally gifted.

In any case, I replied something along the lines of, "Xander, every day I get to be your mommy is the most wonderful and special day ever. That's how much I love you."

He turned solemn eyes on me, then paused a second, and said, "Mommy...is it hard?"

I told him it was work to be a mommy, but that he was worth all of it.

And it is work, Xander. If you ever read this, it's hard to tell you 20 times to do one thing. And you crowd a person out sometimes, both physically and mentally. I hate arguing with you about every.little.thing. "But I was just..." is not an answer to "Xander, please do not do..." There have been nights without sleep. Moments of sheer terror as I wondered where you had gone. And times where I wished there was a volume button installed when the umbilical cord was cut.

So yes, it is hard.

And yet...

None of it compares to the joy of watching you hug your brother. How tender you are with people. How much you love your Daddy, grandparents, and cousins. How you run wild with your friends and hoot for joy. The day you took your first steps, smiled your first smile, and made your first joke are beyond compare.

As I have the great privilege to watch you grow, help you read, and soothe your fears, I am in awe of who you are and who you are becoming. Your teasing eyes, silly smiles, and enthusiastic way of approaching life teach me to wonder and be joyful too.

And still, with all of this, there is nothing that can describe the quick hugs and kisses, the minutes you cling to me when you need support, and the bliss that is reading to you when we are cuddled up before bedtime.

These moments they move too fast, my Xander. To describe being your mother as being hard is to shortchange us both.

For the record, the math hasn't been created to calculate the distance that can describe my love for you, Xander.

My Military Childhood

2010-11-02T22:06:00.002-04:00

I grew up military. I lived in 7 provinces and was in Europe during the Cold War. My life involved moving and Christmases in new places and always having new friends. It meant ski vacations in Switzerland and floating in the Mediterranean in Spain one summer. It means I have seen a great deal of Canada and lots of European countries. It also inspired me to go to Asia by myself as a young adult.

But it also meant that I grew up knowing for sure what guns and bombs were. I was shipped home from school more than once because of a bomb scare. My father was gone for 2 six month stints to the Middle East before my second birthday. I grew up knowing that at any time, my father could go to war. That he could die for our country. And that at any time, I was representing our country. I knew all of that before my birthdays had added up to double digits.

I've not been part of the military community for a while now. My Dad retired and I grew up and married someone who was not military. We have lived in the same house for 7 years this month, which seems like an eternity to my gypsy soul.

But my heart is still there. I cry for the fallen soldiers -- every one -- in Afghanistan. And I am incredibly proud of each and every soldier and each veteran.

I've written about this before. My connection and my tears. But tonight I saw a video that made my breath catch in my throat, because it is all of this and more. It's part of my life and their lives: each and every soldier and family member who has been involved.

Please watch and listen closely.

Picture Input

2010-10-28T15:56:00.016-04:00

I have a load of pictures from our summer vacation. I put a load of them on Facebook, so if you are my "friend" there, then feel free to take a look. Not long after our beautiful summer vacation in New Brunswick (we drove there and back and spent a day in PEI too), I bought a picture frame to put a few pictures in and hang on our fireplace.

My only problem is picking pictures.

I want these two for sure:

Our feet on Cavendish beach. Liam a bit reluctant to play along.
Xander and Liam at Hopewell Rocks, NB...walking the ocean floor!
Now, the big catch is I have 2 spots for landscape photos and 2 for portraits. Here are my other choices:

Hopewell Rocks: Xander muddy, Liam touches the ocean for the first time, and Xander in the ocean for the first time.

Cavendish Beach: Liam and two of Xander in the sand.

Miscellaneous: by a lighthouse and then malarky in the park.

Give me some feedback, please. And some reasoning. Remember to choose one landscape and one portrait photo.

Xander Jumps

2010-10-26T13:56:00.003-04:00

Xander has issues with separation. In fact, we are in the process of having him do some work to deal with severe separation anxiety. Anything new, unexpected and...well, sometimes even stuff he knows about and is fine with can create a massive meltdown. Over the last six months we've had problems with having the babysitter come over, us going out, drop offs for soccer camp (that one took 2 hours to remove him from my legs the first day), concerts, and school.

We've also had issues with swimming lessons. I got to be that mother who dragged her screaming kid to the pool every day for lessons this summer (he did 2 four week stints over the summer). It was horrid for all of us.

Xander has taken swimming before. In fact, he's been at it since he was 2.5 years old! However, he did have a bit of a scare over the summer, where he went under for a split second and Daddy didn't catch him.

Last spring we had a series of private lessons with Peggy. Peggy refuses to hear the word "can't" at swimming. She's a motherly type and coaxes a bit, but with firmness. Xander likes her and trusts her. So, this fall, when he ended up with Peggy as his instructor, he was over the moon (let's not talk about the one day when Peggy's son was sick and we had a replacement instructor, since it could have been worse...much worse!). And Peggy was excited to have him too.

It turns out that although Xander is reluctant and takes a while to warm up to swimming, he is doing fairly well. He's swimming front stroke and back. He glides well. He jumps in like crazy and...surprise, surprise!...he loves to dive in. Peggy gets very wet teaching Xander and his classmate Zach. And she laughs doing it. She thinks they are a riot.

Today Peggy had great news: the boys were going to jump off the diving board for the first time.

Xander was not happy. It was new and scary. He didn't want to do that. He had every excuse in the book. And Peggy just said, "You LOVE to jump in and I never let you do anything you can't do. I am always there for you." They did their first few things in the deep end of the pool. Diving, swimming, gliding. And then they got lifejackets on and jumped off the side of the pool. It was all great.

Then it was time to jump off the diving board. Xander went first. He shook and trembled a little as he walked out. Held tight to the silver handles, then cautiously let go and inched his way across the board to the edge. He listened to Peggy and put his toes over the edge of the board, took a breath, made a grimace.....AND JUMPED!!!!

The first thing he said when he surfaced a moment later was: "That was FUN!!!"

Ha! Sometimes trying something new is a great thing. Sometimes there is fun in it.

Good work, Xander!

Perfection

2010-10-25T10:34:00.002-04:00

I grew up knowing that I was smart. I was told that I was smart in every way from the time I could walk and all the way through my school days. I was an adult and living on my own before I didn't have at least a weekly conversation that included one of my parents or relatives or friends telling me how smart I was.

Sounds like a great thing, doesn't it.

Except that in my world "smart" came with expectations. I was supposed to behave better than the average 7 year old (mostly, I understand that I did). I was only supposed to take academic courses...all of the academic courses in high school. My father still occasionally mentions how I did not take chemistry in high school! And did so on my graduation day from university. (Insert a deep sigh and an eye roll here.)

I was supposed to be perfect.

How does a person live with the expectation of perfection? Especially when the other message that you get is that you are failing all the time.

My father, though blessed with many wonderful traits, is not a man of patience for himself or others. And he always feels as though he is failing, thus projecting that onto his kids. If I wasn't getting marks over 80%, then I was failing. I didn't take the courses he wanted me to take, so I failed. These days, it is that I don't have a child who is female...my beautiful, smart, healthy kids are boys! (Now, if anyone were to take issue with his grandsons, there would be hell to pay! He adores them. He just wants a granddaughter too.)

It's not that these are smacks of failure. Billboards advertising it. Or out and out telling me that I have failed. More like whisperings and suggestions of other things I should have done or ought to be doing. Subtle undercurrents. You could miss them. I did for a long, long time.

What does a person do with an expectation of perfection and a whispering voice that says you are failing? How does a person dig out from under all of that to just be?

A Seminar for Writers

2010-10-24T14:14:00.002-04:00

Last week I went to a seminar by the PWAC on pitching articles to magazines. The editors were fantastic and gave some really informative tips on how do do a pitch properly. I've taken a couple of courses on writing for magazines and certainly done a fair amount of reading about, but nothing was as detailed as this hour and a half.

And then came question time.

Do you ever have the feeling you may be the smartest person in the room? Many of the people in my circles are very smart. We have surrounded ourselves with friends who are incredibly smart; some of them know it and others are oblivious to it, but they are smart. So I was singularly unprepared to sit in a room of people who identify themselves as writers and hear the questions that they asked. It felt a bit like a showing of the worst of these people.

Can I fax you a copy of my previous work, because the one I have scanned is a bad scan. (Umm, either scan it again yourself or get someone to scan it.)

I've written a load of books and wondered if I can make a relationship with an editor without sending in pitches. (Hey guy, do you know that this makes you sound lazy? And yeah, the answer is not unless you already know an editor. Do the work!)

What if I have another idea when I am researching and writing an article for a magazine. (Getting new ideas is the lifeblood of writing. Be happy. But don't repeat the research and quotes in another article. No one wants repeats. No matter how much you rephrase that question!)

How can I negotiate rates? (Seriously? Most of the people in this audience are here because they want to learn how to pitch effectively, which means that they don't have much experience. Without the experience, you say "Thank you so much for this money for my work. Can I pitch something else and do more work for you." As you get better and known for providing good work, you will get better pay or be able to negotiate better pay. Oh yeah, and knowing your audience is a good start when writing, as well as when speaking.)

I loved the editors and was not a fan of the audience, but boy did I feel like I was one of the smartest people in that room. I did leave full of ideas and potential angles to approach magazines. I do wish I'd had a smart question or two to ask though. However, sometimes it is smart to just sit and listen.

Elevators and Parking Spaces

2010-10-14T12:21:00.002-04:00

I've been having a few different dreams lately that involve elevators and parking spaces. I am often riding up and down the elevators, aimlessly searching for someone or something. It's all done calmly, but I never do find the who or what I am looking for. Eventually, I stop riding the elevators and start looking for the parking spaces. And those parking spaces are never in the right order. I am looking for a certain numbered space and it is just not where I thought it would be.

I only realized this morning that I keep having these dreams.

Hmmph. It's not even something that would take a rocket scientist to figure out either. Apparently I am seeking something. And since I am tired of dreaming this, I'll be sure to let you know when I find whatever it is I am looking for.

Sneaking Out

2010-10-10T19:58:00.027-04:00

We are now just wallowing in the whole hand, foot, and mouth disease fiasco. Liam is almost better. Xander has yet to fall prey to it. And Ray and I both have it. And yes, despite the promises of well-known medical websites (and our doctor), you can in fact get the whole thing as an adult. My mouth and Ray's mouth and fingers beg to differ with the "adults may get flu symptoms, but are unlikely to get any blistering". But we're special that way!

I'm sick, but also restless. The boys are restless. Today we kept our germs on our property and did some yard work. Breathing on NO ONE. But yesterday, we snuck out and enjoyed the full glory of a Thanksgiving weekend in Ontario.

Yeah, Sharing CAN be a Bad Idea

2010-10-09T18:10:00.003-04:00

This morning our two munchkins were all but dangling from the ceiling fans. All day yesterday, Xander kept begging every 30-60 minutes to go outside. He said, "I'm all cramped up inside." Fair enough, but Ray was working, I still had a fever, and Liam was still quite sick.

This morning, Liam woke up and began to eat everything he could get his hands on. The blisters on his feet are not gone, but the ones on his hands have vanished. Not sure about the ones in his mouth (he was not forthcoming about that). Fevers had dropped for me and Liam. Last night we thought Xander was getting one, but he was fine this morning.

So we had kids who were crazed and adults who were feeling the cabin fever too. We were all shack whacky! Add that it was the most beautiful fall day too, and we decided to risk going out for a bit.

The kids played in our front yard and then with the kids across the street (who have parents who know we are all sick). Then we went in search of a place to buy fresh apples and pumpkins. Ended up going for a beautiful drive up the Niagara Escarpment and then stopping at a farm market place.

Thankfully, due to the long weekend and other factors, there were only a few other families there. We had a snack together, took a tractor/wagon ride and then went through a corn maze, and then played in the sandbox and on the hay maze. Not long before we left, I asked Ray to look at my tongue, which was really hurting.

So much for "if adults get hand, foot, and mouth disease, they get flu symptoms, but not the blisters". Yeah, the underside of my tongue and back of my throat beg to differ.

Sharing with Liam was a really, really bad idea. Apparently an afternoon out was also a bad idea. Thankfully it was only a few people and we didn't come into close contact with anyone. Hopefully I didn't just spread this one all over Ontario.

When Sharing is Not a Good Idea

2010-10-07T10:28:00.002-04:00

On Tuesday morning after swimming, Xander and I went for a few groceries. He behaved really nicely and we choose yogurt popsicles as a treat. After lunch Liam and Xander both ate them. Liam is a bit slow and the yogurt was getting all over, so I helped him. I took a big lick and he took a big lick. In fact, I was teaching him how to put the end of it all in his mouth at once, so I put it in my mouth and then he would put it in his mouth.

And Wednesday morning Liam woke up with a huge fever and lesions in his mouth. He now has them on his hands and feet too.

Yup, that's right: Liam has Hand, Foot and Mouth disease.

Fun times in our house!

What do you think my chances of catching it are?

The Tale of a Closet

2010-09-26T16:45:00.012-04:00

We've lived in our tiny house for almost 7 years now (at the end of November) and until now all of our love and attention has been paid to the common areas. We've redone a bathroom, put venetian plaster in our library (don't...take my advice, and just don't), and painted. We've also put in a new fireplace. But the one place that has had no attention is our bedroom. We moved in, hung up our clothes and put the furniture in appropriate places.

I hate the colour of our bedroom. It's a nasty shade of brown, with a lovely little border that has cherubs all over it. In case you are wondering, I am not a fan of the cherubs and the paint is not only a cruddy colour, but it was put on with streaks and such. It's driven me a little crazy since we moved in, but I didn't know what to do with it.

Well, I know now.

So we started with the closet.

We have a tiny little walk-in closet with a window in it. Sounds weird, but I like it. My uncle put a light in it for us when we did the bathroom reno. Even better. But it was old and badly done. So that was the first thing on my list.

This is the before.
Ray's half:

My half:

Decidedly mediocre. (Check out the colour and the border on the outside.)

So we peeled off two layers of wallpaper, including a layer on the ceiling. Then puttied it up and sanded. And puttied and sanded and puttied and....yeah, you get the picture. Then we painted.

At which point, we went shopping around for different closet solutions. We made a sight-seeing trip to the Home Depot. They had some decent options, but since our closet is an odd size, we thought we'd check out a specialty store. What a bust that was. Worst.Customer.Service.EVER. In the end, we went back to the Home Depot and bought our stuff there and Ray trimmed it all up to fit.

First pics of the new colour and there's the top bracket in!

My side, on top:

Check out the shoe rack on the bottom!Ray's side:
All that was left was to put in the clothing.
My side:
And Ray's side:

So, that's the tale of our closet reno.

Rewards

2010-09-09T12:24:00.002-04:00

I have to think about ways to reward myself. I'm especially bad at it. Or have become especially bad at it. I was talking to my friend Kristen about them and she says that stickers still work wonderfully for her high school kids.

Hmmm. Stickers. I would love some kind of sticker.

I used to do all of my work for the shiny red A or A+ on my papers. Now...no one does that. And work is a place of monetary reward that goes shimmying off through the ether to debts and food and such things that were inconceivable when you are a child or a teenager. It doesn't feel like a reward.

But I've concentrated on rewarding my children: Xander gets stickers and Bakugan for good behaviour. Liam is enjoying M&Ms for using the toilet. And such looks of glee on their little faces over simple things.

I need to figure out my own simple things. The moments I live for. I need something that is bet-worthy (another story entirely). The idea of these things must make me sigh in longing.

After putting myself aside for so long, I have a discomfort with the idea of rewarding myself. Taking time to do things. Or spending money, however insignificant, on myself. I will do it for my children, my husband, and for my marriage, but somehow I forgot about myself.

Some things have come to mind:
- Time to write properly
- Time to explore the ideas I have been peculating for magazine articles
- Photographing something just for me (thanks Kris, that one is a good one)
- An hour to lounge in the tub (I used to do that all the time. Where did that go?)

I'm thinking about rewarding myself for the big and the small things. Because otherwise, what is the point?

Story

2010-09-07T10:24:00.002-04:00

I've been pondering the meaning of story. How we each have one and how our stories tangle together. But also, how we think about story and create it, share it, hide it, and sometimes revel in it.

Pictures. Music. Radio. Film. Television. Books. Magazines.

We are beings who wallow in story. Even as we live it, we wallow in it. Smelling, touching, tasting the edges of it. Sometimes consciously, but often not.

Even writing this blog is an expression of my story. Your identifying with it is part of your story.

I wonder how my boys will feel about the beginnings of their stories being mixed here, with mine.

So, here is my thought for you for the day: think about your stories and how you are expressing them. Reach out with them, touch them a bit, handle them, and then come back and tell me what came of it.

Recommendation of the Summer

2010-09-06T14:12:00.004-04:00

I don't often flog books I love here. I love a lot of books, so that could be a post on its own. If you look in the background of my pictures, I am sure that most of them are littered with books. I've got a particular love of Guy Gavriel Kay. And I have eclectic tastes: from Canadian literature to Sci-Fi to Fantasy. Throw in the odd biography, the paper, some blogs, the odd horror...you get the picture. If I can read it, likely I will.

In the pile of books I read this summer, one floats right to the top.

I am going to be up front with you: I have met the author. She is a very good friend of a good friend of mine. Two years ago, we spent a day shopping and eating and just hanging around between Christmas and New Year's. It was amazing. I wish that she lived closer, because I would love to get to know her better. So I would have read this book anyway.

But I LOVE this book.

The characters are faulty and beautiful. You hate and love and desire them. The story is complex and fantastic. And it moves along. (I cannot stand it when you are plugging along and trying to figure out when the darn thing is going to get off the ground.) This story had me from the first paragraph and had me running along behind her to get to the next page and next scene and next...

When I finished, I wanted to pick it up and start again. I wanted to experience it all over again, but with knowing what was coming. And yet, I mourn that I can never have that experience of not knowing how it will end again. I am jealous that you can have that still.

I'm going to foist this book on as many people as I can over the next few months. And hope that the sequel comes out soon. (I hear November, which is soon, but not soon enough at this moment.)

So go! Run to the bookstore! Get it for your kindle or whatever electronic device. Read it. Wallow in it. Breathe in these splendid characters.

Fan Expo 2010

2010-09-04T09:15:00.043-04:00

We took the kids to Fan Expo last year and had such a good time, we thought we would try it again this year. What's not to like? Superheroes! Costumes! Comics! This is the stuff of dreams for little boys, so off we trek. We get a nice hotel room, eat out, and call it an end of summer mini-vacation.

We went on Friday night, because last year on Saturday the crowds were wild.

We found the Batmobile!

Notice the light saber. This is Xander's first light saber. On the odd occasion, I play "cool mommy" and get him something unexpected. These suckers light up and make noise: for $10. How could I resist. Keep an eye out for it, because he loved that thing.

We took a good look around the one side of the Silver Snail booth. Yup, only one side. It was huge. Here's the Silver Surfer at the top of the booth and then a few pics of my boys.

(Liam wasn't as thrilled overall about Fan Expo. There were a lot of people and he was too big for me to carry this year -- last year I used the Ergo -- so he was pretty low to the ground and got a lot of bags near his personal space.)

And if you have a light saber, you have to find a Darth Vader (in Lego, no less) to go with it. (Get a load of Xander's face!)

And the funniest story of the weekend was when we were walking along and I was talking to my little guy and said his name and these two young ladies, who were all done up in costumes, heard me say "Xander" and they loved his name so much that they had to have their picture taken with him. Funny, no?

No sooner had Xander left his new girlfriends, than this ~~skanky booth bunny~~ nice young lady gave my kid a temporary tattoo. (This kid really was a chick magnet on Friday night.) Said tattoo has yet to fade at all...a week later.

And then there are the storm troopers. Never forget a few storm troopers in the mix!
At the end of the night, we stopped off to see some friend who were working Fan Expo. Say hi to Scott, Denholm, and Mary.
And on our way back to the hotel...
We had originally planned to steer clear of the Expo on Saturday, because last year was such a zoo. But then our friends Deb and John wanted to go and we couldn't resist the idea of exploring with friends. So we stayed. Also, it was in a larger space this year, so our delusions led us to believe it wouldn't be quite so busy. Wrong! It was packed!

John went into the fray to get tickets for their family and we met up with Deb and Devon outside and played a bit. Because, you know, not all the fun is inside.

Of course, Xander made a few friends along the way.
And John came out with tickets in hand. Hooray!
(Sorry John, the one with you looking up is blurry.)

John may just be the biggest Batman fan on earth. So he got to meet Adam West and let us not forget that you can sit in the Batmobile....
And I especially liked the back of the shirts worn by the staff of this exhibit:

Did I mention the costumes?

Devon and Liam would go up and have their pictures taken, but Xander was suddenly overtaken by shyness. It might have been the paparazzi-like atmosphere.

There are always some hidden gems.
Did I mention the crowds? These shots are just the bare minimum. I should have gotten a few of the line up outside the convention hall, just trying to get in.

I think Liam had a bit better time later in the afternoon, when they were playing at Deb and John's house.

Apparently the dressing up part stuck with him though.

How to Tell that Daycare Needs Diapers

2010-09-02T21:58:00.004-04:00

I'm a huge fan of my daycare. Huge! Liam is in an in-home daycare; the same place Xander went to as well, may I add. We cannot say enough good things about Katherine. She's basically our back up, pool of information on kids, pseudo-aunt, and more. Best of all, Katherine and her family have become our friends.

Plus, sometimes she amuses us. When I stripped Liam down for his bath tonight, I sent him downstairs in just his diaper to show his Dad. We both laughed. Loudly.

Now, in case some of you have eyesight like my own (crappy), I took a close up:

I dare me to forget after that one.

The iPod

2010-08-31T11:45:00.002-04:00

I've been quieter these days because between work and home, things are a bit hectic. And yes, I did say work. I'm doing a couple of contracts in technical writing.

I've rediscovered my iPod. It used to be just for running, but running hasn't been happening for months (I did run last week and felt like I could solve all the world's problems afterward). Over the weekend I used the music to calm my little beast. Xander was overstimulated, so the music centered him. Fun!

Today I am working and listening to it. The work goes a little smoother this way, but the funny part is that with each new song I am transported to a different me. I am suddenly in university and then back to high school summers, laying in the late evening on the grass...counting stars and laughing with my girlfriends. Sometimes I am still 10 and living in Europe with my family. It all flashes with a song. The songs are long enough for me to see her, remember her vividly, and almost touch her. I remember being her. She is still in me.

I'd forgotten that part.

So I am gathering flashes of me in this tiny cubicle as I write.

Those Stolen Moments

2010-08-18T20:03:00.004-04:00

Sometimes the best moments with your children are the stolen ones. The unexpected. And the rare. I love those moments. As a mother, they keep me going.

Last night we had one of them with Xander. He woke up around 11 pm, climbed into bed with us and told us he had had a bad dream. Snuggled down and was asleep for about 5 minutes or so. Suddenly, we woke right up and complained about being hungry.

Yesterday I had an IBS attack. All. Day. Long. It hurts and I don't feel like eating much. By evening things were calming down and the two mini-meals I had had all day were long gone. I was hungry too.

Xander choose to continue to snuggle with me and we sent Daddy down for snacks. I ended up with a half of a small sub that was a leftover (fine by me!) and Xander got cookies and milk. The three of us had a little picnic on the bed. Xander snuggled down for a moment after and started complaining about crumbs.

Nice, they are in my bed, not his. But I can't blame him much, because I feel the same way about crumbs in my bed. Ray brushed them off.

A few more moments passed and we sent him back to his own bed. Snack and cuddles were over.

About 2 minutes after he is all settled, we hear from the other room, "Great, now there's crumbs in MY bed too." in a grumbling voice.

Ray and I laughed that open-mouthed-almost-no-sound laugh from our own bed. It was just one of those moments.

Fenced Yard

2010-08-16T09:31:00.006-04:00

It's a good thing that our yard is fenced and locked. Xander was never a child to go off and play by himself. To this day, he will be somewhere close by. If he is quiet, he's having screen time. But mostly he is underfoot.

Liam is another creature. I heard the back screen door creak open yesterday, only to find he'd decided to play in the backyard. Oiee. We got his sandals, sunscreen, hat, and bug spray on and let him go. With the window open and very frequent checks on him.

He had a blast and was in and out about three times.

How interesting that this is the same child who was the baby who cried all the time and was stuck to me. And now we have a little boy who plays by himself joyfully.

A Little Bit for Me

2010-08-15T17:00:00.002-04:00

I've been pondering things lately. Work and life in general. The state of my body...sometimes the state of my brain.

In short, I am feeling like it is finally time for me these days.

I feel like working. I am tired of earning very little money. I was ranting about this the other day to a few friends. I love my kids, but I am kind of over being 90% SAHM and struggling to chip away enough time for even 10% for me and work. It's not balanced and my brain is rotting away, bit by bit. I worked hard for that brain, so it is not unreasonable to think about how it is doing these days.

Funny enough, I just had a pile of work land on my lap between now and the beginning of September, which will put some of that urge off.

Then there is the whole desire to do things for myself. I have had the reoccurring thought that I too deserve this. My body deserves the time and energy for me to work out: running, walking, swimming. Things I rarely do, because it means balancing the kids and Ray and all the 900 things on my list of things that need doing. But the voice whispers at me loudly: "You do deserve this." And I am checking out gym options that include childcare. Options that mean I can put a little bit into myself.

Like everything else, I am a work in progress too. In the middle of diapers and nursing and teaching your toddler to swim or swing or potty train, sometimes we mothers forget that part. I remember to get new clothes for my kids, because they outgrow them at regular intervals. I remember to feed them and everyone around us. I remember to clean the house and do the laundry (okay, most of the time). But sometimes I forget about me.

That little voice is no longer allowing me to forget about me though.

I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed some more

2010-08-08T17:20:00.002-04:00

A few years ago we put a stain on our deck. It's a Behr Premium stain and guaranteed for 6 years on horizontal surfaces and 8 on vertical (or something like that). Let's say that no one was impressed when it began peeling after 6 months.

Yes, you read that right: 6 months.

The next summer we had an infant Liam. The following summer was still nutty. And this year I have finally tackled the deck. Let's say that I miscalculated how long the job would take. After days of scrubbing with the chemical remover, plus several chemical burns to my legs and knees and chin (splatter sucks), I decided a hazmat suit would be required if I ever did that again and rented a power washer. The power washer helped, but I still had hours of scrubbing to do. I got it to a point where I could live with the results and we went forward. Ray has replaced a few boards and removed a railing that the previous owners of our property put in the middle of the deck. I like that a LOT. And we've sanded everything down and then used the neutralizer chemical.

It was a long, long time. I'd do pictures, but we're having one of those wild weather days where it can't decide what it is doing out there.

I've also managed to clean the oven and stovetop. And I sold a dresser we were no longer using. Not bad for a lazy Sunday.

All in all, I am just glad that the deck job is done and our yard will return to normal shortly. The kids have missed it and I have too.

Selling

2010-08-05T12:52:00.002-04:00

I've been in the mood to get rid of things. Mostly by donating, giving to friends and selling things. So far, I have put a small dresser and a kid's activity table up on Kijiji. I've also given a few things, including a baby swing, away.

And I like the feeling. LOTS!

In fact, I am contemplating selling all of my baby gear now. I have an Ergo carrier and a Medela breast pump that may go next.

Ah...the great purge of 2010. ;)

Anyone else in the mood for a purge?

Where oh where did July go?

2010-08-04T14:35:00.001-04:00

It seems like school ended yesterday. But in the heat and family vacation and ice cream haze, time really has passed. It's already August.

We've been to New Brunswick and PEI and back. We've had one round of swimming lessons (and Xander passed!) and are doing soccer camp. Ray and I have been busy around the house and outside: the deck is being stripped and fixed, the fireplace has its screen, and we have new shelves and bins for the toys. (I still want to know how we can work that much around here and still have a massive mess, but that's another blog post, I am sure.)

I struggle to work and to balance life with my family. I also wonder if this is the time to go back to a regular job; I suspect this might be a yearly summer time pondering.

And time passes.

We're good. I've not felt like writing a whole lot, so I have been fairly quiet in my online world. But we are motoring along and generally enjoying ourselves.

School has ended!

2010-06-30T20:24:00.013-04:00

School ended on Monday. Xander's first full year has now come and gone. My mother warns me that each year will go faster as he goes through school. I hope not. This one was fast enough!

Unfortunately, Xander has been in a funk for about two weeks. He has sensory issues (touch and sound), so often his funks manifest through these issues. We've had problems with shoes, socks, and pants lately. And then the television being too loud (though he cannot hear it when it is turned down some and is frustrated either way).

I wonder if it is a combination of all that has happened in the past few weeks: my parents have come and gone (and it is always a bit of a circus while they are here, so there were visits with family members, trips to the market, and lots of other things to do), two birthdays (and his big birthday party), the death of our cat, and now the end of school. It's a lot for a person who is just 5 to process.

I've decided to let it be for now. It took a few days of really awful confrontations, fits, and lots of crying on both ends to get here. But he needs some time to process. So I am offering opportunities to be outside, to run errands, and to play. But also leaving him to watch television and zone out for a couple of days too. Until he gets some footing back.

My friend Lisa took photos of her kids on the first and last days of school. I had taken some on the first day, but my last day photos were iffy, because of "the shoe issue".

They do something called gradual entry at our school. This one was taken on Xander's first day going to meet his teacher. (Notice that Liam is the grumpy one in this photo...if it isn't one, it's the other!).

This is his actual first full day of school:
Walking to school with Daddy.
At school...
Entering the Kindergarten area. (That's his teacher holding his hand.)

And this is his last day of school.
(Told you he was grumpy. And yes, this is all I could get. LOL)

Chocolate

2010-06-23T10:19:00.014-04:00

One Pixel at a Time...One Vote Counts

2010-06-08T20:35:00.003-04:00

I have a friend who is involved in something called the Pixel Project. She's a fellow writer and a big advocate against violence, especially violence against women and families. So when she sent me an email about how I could help her out on this project, I thought about my blog readers. All it takes you is a moment to read and a moment to follow the link and vote.

Here is the information she sent me:

I am involved with the Pixel Project, a global initiative to raise awareness and funds to end violence against women. (Funds go to two registered non-profits.) The entire campaign is being done online and the fundraising is being done through a mystery picture of male celebrities from around the world. The picture will be divided into 1 million pixels, with each pixel being sold for USD$1 each.

We have 2 men committed (a Nobel Prize winner and a Pulitzer Prize winner) but we want to attract a globally known actor. To that end, we are running a Voters’ Choice campaign. The idea is for people vote for their favourite from among 5 nominees and sign a petition that will be sent to the winning actor to ask him to participate.

We are trying to reach 20,000 votes and we’re only at about 4,000. If you are interested, you can vote at http://bit.ly/PixelVote. Feel free to pass this message along to anyone else who might be want to get involved. The men have been selected because they have no history of violence, are globally recognized and have a good record of charitable work. Their bios are here. http://www.thepixelproject.net/community-buzz/voters-choice-celebrity-male-role-model/and-the-nominees-are/

So go...vote. Make a difference!

Coming to 5

2010-06-07T09:15:00.004-04:00

Xander's birthday is coming up soon. He's going to be 5 and we hear about it all the time. Apparently in his head 5 is a big thing. I can't blame him, since he will be able to put his whole hand up to tell a person his age now.

The other day I said he couldn't do something, because he was too little. Well, you should have witnessed the sheer attitude I got in return.

"Mommy, I am NOT too little. I'm going to be FIVE soon you know."

:sigh:

Yes, my son, I am incredibly aware of it. Proud, happy, and sad at the same time about it.

As these last few days of this little boy being 4 remain, I find myself walking both in the here and now, and in those last few days before his birth. Remembering how big I was and the things I was doing. How we prepared for this tiny human. And how it was both too much and not enough preparation.

Wasn't that just last week? How did 5 get to be upon us so fast? (And please, no one tell me that Liam will be there in a blink of an eye too.) Makes me wonder if my mother feels this way about my brother and I still.

Out of the Mouths of Babes and Wine Bottles

2010-06-02T09:27:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I was trying to hurry Xander along. He's either extremely fast at doing things or he dawdles until I am sure that Mother Theresa would be annoyed. So I told him to go faster. And he turns to me and says, "Mom, can I just go and my own personal pace please?"

It made me laugh. The belly laugh kind. How do you not laugh at something like that out of a 5 year old's mouth.

*************************
Now, since yesterday's post, I've had a few comments (in person, on the blog, and on other sites) about the wine bottles behind me.

Although yesterday was a day where I felt like a bottle or two of wine may have helped, I assure you that none of these bottles were consumed at that time. In fact, the newest of these 5 bottles is over 10 years old.

Check them out!

The two on the left are from our wedding wine.

The Late Harvest in the middle is the first nice bottle of wine we bought and drank together.

And the two on the right are from the university Ray went to.
(The Late Harvest and the two university bottles have been candle holders in the past.)

Kind of cool.
I've been trying to figure out what to do with them. We used to have a huge entertainment unit and they were in there, but that went out about 6 weeks ago and I haven't figured out what to do with the bits and pieces since then.

What working from home with small children looks like...

2010-06-01T13:38:00.005-04:00

Ever wondered how moms who work from home do it? It's not elegant, let me tell you. I don't wake up and put on nice clothes and have lunches out.

And sometimes you get little gems like this:

For the record, the "tickle trunk" is about 3 feet from my desk and we have 2 fire helmets in there. Liam put one on him, one on me, and wandered away. I forgot it was there and Ray walked in to find me working and still wearing the helmet. Go figure. I'd completely forgotten it was there.

End of a Busy Week

2010-05-31T12:28:00.006-04:00

Last week was busy. I worked a contract with full-time, in-office hours. The evenings were spent jamming everything else into a couple of hours. The kids went to bed late every night (sorry K!). And the house looked like a tornado hit it. I've gotten out of practice with the working out of the home thing.

Then we burnt that proverbial candle at both ends on the weekend, including a visit to friends in another town and another late night, followed by a birthday bash that involved flying kites and wading in a stream on Sunday. It was a blast and the kids were happy and busy! But we got home later than we had anticipated and both kids refused to nap. In all honesty, I was reluctant to have naps starting at 2 pm too.

This is what dinner looked like after a week like that...
(He's chewing and trying not to fall asleep on Daddy's lap.)

Xander is not immune to it either.

And down for the count!
I tried to get him into bed shortly after that, but he woke up and was mad. So he came back to the table for berries and pudding, then had his bedtime routine and went to bed.

They were both out around 6:30 last night.

We did have a great weekend though!

The Fireplace the Ray Built

2010-05-19T20:24:00.011-04:00

Once upon a time, we had a fireplace that came with our house. It looked like this:
(By the way, we put the screen up to keep Xander from getting himself burnt.)

In November of 2008, we decided to rip out the old fireplace. It was big, stuck into the room a lot, and was hard to turn on. It only had an on/off switch, and no thermostat. Plus the piece that caused it to be hard to turn on was no longer available...the company that made the original fireplace had gone out of business years ago.

I don't have pictures of it being ripped out, but my Uncle Ed (everyone needs and Uncle Ed!), Ray and my Dad put the actual fireplace unit in at the end of November. It was settled on a box. Ray worked on the hearth for months. He built it and then taught himself how to tile. They are tumbled slate. Since it took him a while to learn the tricks of tiling, getting to that point took a long time.

You can see it with the hearth, here.

Between the fact that Liam didn't sleep the night until the end of January, plus everything else, it took a while for Ray to get to do the rest. He worked on the boxes for the top and bottom and the base for the mantle for a long time.

Then he did the drywall.

If I thought that doing the boxes was a chore, well I was in for a treat. Puttying and sanding took almost as long. We made a few mistakes along the way (trust me on this one: don't use an electric sander for these kinds of jobs...the dust all over 2 floors of stuff is NOT worth it).

Here it is in the puttying stage:

And just this week, we painted. Ray did the actual fireplace, but I did the wall behind it, some trim, and the other two walls in the room (which you cannot see, of course).

He did a great job!

Here is a close up of the mantle. Pretty awesome!

So, this is what Ray's been doing in our house over the last 18 months.

Thanks honey. It's better than I ever imagined it would be!

Undecided

2010-05-19T11:39:00.002-04:00

Ray and I are pretty decisive people overall. So it kind of amuses me that we have the same few things that always stump us.

What to eat is the big one. The conversation goes this this:

Me: "So, what's for supper?" (This means I don't have a clue myself and can't be bothered to make up my own mind.)
Ray: "Hmmm, to tell you the truth, I hadn't thought about it."

or

Me: "Where do you want to go to eat?" (If I have a preference, I will say so.)
Ray: "I haven't really decided."

This can go around and around. We're equally adept at choosing furniture and paint colours. Dressing the kids. Work. Reading. Television. General conversation. We've got that nailed.

So how come we can't figure out what to eat?

Appreciating

2010-05-15T20:02:00.002-04:00

We've had a really good time lately with the kids. We've gone swimming. Had time hanging out. Xander is helping Ray paint our fireplace. And tonight we danced and sang our hearts out. It was magic.

The last song was the one I've put on my blog today.

In honour of the song itself and the wonderful times we are having, I am making a list of 10 things I am appreciating. Go ahead and make your own list. Pass it on!

1. My kids
2. Health
3. Laughter
4. Family
5. The sheer beauty of the earth: plants blooming, blue sky, and buckets of rain.
6. Friends
7. The many places I have been, from mountains on three continents to dipping my feet in the Pacific, the Atlantic, and even the Mediterranean.
8. Plans
9. Dreams
10. Love

What do YOU see?

2010-05-13T14:38:00.004-04:00

Shift of Gears: The Big Water Incident

2010-05-13T09:42:00.004-04:00

I have a couple of great pics of the kids I was going to load on here for today. Except I don't have the same ports on my desktop computer...and my laptop took a bit of a swim last night. So I have to wait on the pictures.

I dropped a large glass of water on my laptop last night. A total accident. It's currently drying out.

I feel really dumb, but what are you going to do. I've had a few panicked moments, because most of Liam pictures since birth are on that hard drive. Yes, I know I should back up. And I do occasionally, but in the sleep deprivation of the first 2 years of Liam's life, I forgot to do certain things. So I have no idea what I have and where. Plus, all my work from the last 20 months and links and everything...yeah, on there. So here is hoping it is resurrected. Ray assures me that either way, the hard drive should be okay.

So we wait.

On a totally different front: while I have never, ever wanted twins, it occasionally occurs to me that Xander should have been a twin. He's so much happier with other kids to play with. And he's got a playdate today. He and Carter are making a mess, but they are happy and entertained. Hooray!

Fear Factor: the Big Three

2010-05-12T13:48:00.004-04:00

I've been thinking about the things I am afraid of lately. I used to take fear as a challenge. Or ignore it entirely. I'm not sure where and when it changed, but it did. And it weighs heavily.

Here are a few things I can think of that are holding me back:

Swimming. I love to swim. I used to swim quite well. Used to. I would like to do some lap swimming to improve my fitness level. I love to run, but my one foot and leg and I are in disagreement about running these days. Swimming seems like a good option. Except I haven't swam laps in forever. And I am slow. Out of practice. And just afraid. Plus, the timing sucks (I either have to go early in the morning, late at night, or over lunch time, which is all inconvenient in some way that is stupid and a big excuse: I'm just afraid to look like an idiot out there).
Writing. I'm doing a course on writing magazine articles. It is a good course, but I find myself stalling doing the work or even reading. I know most of this stuff, so it should be easy, but boy is it giving me pause. I want to do this. I do. But I can fell the edges of fear.
Another baby. Honestly, I am not sure I want to go there at all. And Ray is with me. We laugh and compare it to shopping for our tv: either one of us could have been convinced to buy the 53" television, but neither of us was willing to convince the other. So we bought the 46" one. We're in the same place with a baby. If one of us really wanted to do it, the other could be convinced. Neither of us in in the place to convince the other though. When it comes down to it, I am just afraid of the sleepless, allergy problems, crazed first year again.

There's more, I know. But those are my big three.

What things are you afraid of? Do you hold back or tackle it head-on? How do you deal with it in general?
***********************
I just came back this evening to edit this. I did swim tonight and it was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I was not painfully slow. I enjoyed doing it. And it was a great experience overall. My strokes could use some work, but not nearly as badly as I had feared.

Definitely worth looking that one in the face.

Monkey Business

2010-05-11T19:25:00.005-04:00

Two is an interesting time. Liam is different in his "twos" than Xander was at that time. Xander required many, many time outs. Lots of redirection and lots of interaction. Most of the time, Liam will go off and play on his own, coming to me for snacks, diaper changes, and crisis moments. He needs little in the way of time outs, though a stern "No!" can invoke a tantrum of monstrous proportions. He's definitely his own person.

And yet he follows the family trend of single-mindedness or stubbornness, whatever you wish to call it. The other day, he was well-dressed. Part way through the day, I turned around and he had stripped off his pants, was pulling on pajama bottoms and then tromping around in shoes that are 7 sizes too big for him (he loves those things).

I managed to get a couple of pictures of him sitting and playing with (torturing actually) Woody.

Note that they are his SpiderMan pj bottoms! Strangely, they kind of match his dragon top. I especially love the Crocs on the wrong feet.

There was no way I was going to put him back in his regular pants and shoes. I did try. And decided it was not worth fighting over.

He's an interesting kid!

Mother's Day: Happy and Sad

2010-05-10T10:02:00.003-04:00

My Mother's Day was fabulous. From the wonderful meals made, to a little time to myself, to lots of family time. It was just a day of thoughtfulness from my boys. Xander was especially into Mother's Day this year, and I got a fabulous card and a picture of him with a homemade frame. Liam was along for the ride and got a kick out of the festivities. We just had a fabulous day!

I am blessed. My children are loved and they love me. My husband is a good man, whom I enjoy spending my time with and look forward to traveling the days that are coming with him.

And yet, as I checked on my sleeping children last night, my heart broke too.

I've spoken before of my online community. I know some of the women who read this blog are also part of that online community. We come together, regardless of race, religion or nationality. Our habits and parenting are different. But oh, how we support each other. We cheer for the victories of each other, love each other, and hold each other up. We are a sisterhood.

And sometimes we grieve together.

We've grieved for lost dreams. We've grieved over lost parents and husbands. We've held the horror of lost children in our hearts. When one of our members can no longer stand on her own, we try to hold her up with words. Our hearts travel distances that our bodies cannot always travel (and sometimes some of our bodies travel those distances too).

Yesterday, in the middle of Mother's Day celebrations, we all grieved. It seems a betrayal of the worst sort. One of our members has battled over four years of infertility, including a failed IVF. She wants a second baby so badly that we can all taste it for her. (Mind you, she is not the only one who is battling hard against secondary infertility. And if I could take that pain away and give each woman a baby who wants one...well, I would do it in a split second.) But this woman, she had a surprise pregnancy after all of this!

And we all rejoiced for her! This is the result we all dream of for our sisters who battle infertility. It gives us all hope.

This week she was 12 weeks pregnant. The magical number that is supposed to put us out of danger. Pregnancy becomes so much more certain after that time. And she saw the baby moving, wiggling, and living fully just a few days ago on ultrasound. A beautiful, whole, living baby.

We all believed for her. And rejoiced. And wept with relief. She was having a baby. This was real!

Except that after a few days she could no longer hear the baby's heartbeat on the doppler. And sometime in the hours between what was Saturday and the darkness that became Sunday...yes, Mother's Day of all days...she and her husband discovered that the baby had passed away.

It seems a heartless cruelty. And part of me feels like something has been yanked away. From her. From me. From our group. We all love this baby, who is now gone. And there is nothing at all that we can do.

If you pray or think positive thoughts or just spend a moment sending your heart out, then this woman and her family need it more than anyone I know. These are the darkest of days for them. Her friends and extended family need it. Our online community needs a little of it too. Healing will be hard.

The irony of it happening on Mother's Day is lost to no one. Part of me is angry about that. Sad, but angry too. Why now? Why take this day of joy from her?

But I also remember that motherhood is not all cards and appreciation. Sometimes it is standing together in hard times. Which is what we are trying very hard to do. So maybe it is appropriate after all. Hard still, but appropriate because as mothers we take what comes and travel through it all.

So, as I looked at my own blessings last night, I cried a little.

This is my reason....

2010-05-08T15:11:00.002-04:00

I'm a bit late in realizing that Mother's Day is this weekend. I thought it was next weekend. Oops. All I can say, is that this is my reason (excuse the crappy hair, we had a crazy morning).

Most of all, I am posting this to wish my Mom a Happy Mother's Day! We love you Mom (aka Nanny) and miss you. Can't wait to see you in June. Enjoy a very recent picture of your grandsons and me.

Swim!

2010-05-06T15:44:00.009-04:00

Xander has had a hard time learning to swim. It felt like the ah-ha moment was never coming. He enjoys the water, but I'd venture to say that he didn't get the point of it. We're at the end of his second set of private lessons and the difference is astounding.

He's now starting to tread water and to swim while using both his hands and his feet!

Today he got to go into the big pool (they have a small, square pool for teaching the young kids in) for the first time.

Getting into the big pool:

And in the big pool:
Learning to tread water:
Floating:
Swimming in action!
Liam trying to figure out what this swimming business is all about and why he can't go into the pool too. (That's the smaller pool behind him. And the big pool is through the arches at the very back of the picture.)

Look it in the Eye

2010-05-05T10:12:00.004-04:00

I've been taking a course in magazine writing. I already write for myself. I also blog professionally for another company and write articles for them. I also do editing work, when it comes around. Magazine writing seemed like a good spin-off to me. I'd like to do articles that are different. I like the variety.

I've thought about longer projects, but with small people underfoot and limited time, it seems pointless. The small people will grow and go to school more. There's time in the future. But for now I need to write more and feed my brain and my soul.

Writing can be a hard endeavour. It means looking yourself in the eye and finding something you are truly invested in to write about. Then knowing people will tear you apart for it or love you for it. Rarely an in between. It also means carving out time and brain space for it.

The other day I had an explosion of thought about carving out brain space (and not a good one). It seems every time I sit to read, think, or write, someone wants to talk to me or needs a drink or is unhappy or joyous about something. All of these things make my world go around. My family is, after all, the center of my being these days...in ways I would never have expected before my kids came along. And yet they sometimes crowd me out.

I am important too. Without the me part, I cannot write and earn a living.

I bemoaned all of this -- letting it go into space and releasing it from being trapped in my head and taking up room -- to Ray yesterday afternoon. I told him it felt like working against the tide of my family and at this point, it seemed, well, pointless. I wondered aloud if I ought to just set all of this aside for 2 or 3 more years. Until the wee people had gone to school and left me with a bit of time to chomp on and mull over thoughts.

It's all just talk though. And letting go. For that moment.

This morning I wrote a query letter. The first of many. And I take steps toward writing in a new way.

I'm excited and my brain is already thinking and plotting. It's what keeps me going through the mountain of things between my fingers and my keyboard.

Xander's Wish

2010-05-04T12:29:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I don't know if I should tell my parents the things that Xander says. Today is one of those occasions.

We were on the way to swimming lessons and there is a hill outside the pool that is covered in dandelions. Last week they were all golden, but this week they've matured and are gone to seed. Xander ran over, picked one, and told me he was making a wish as he blew. Where he got the idea that you make a wish when you blow on a dandelion is a mystery to me; certainly we didn't teach him that one.

He is too young to know that you don't say your wish out loud, because superstitions tell us then they won't come true, so he said, "I wish I could see Grandpa Richard every day."

Grandpa Richard lives in Manitoba, a 26 hour drive from us. He's been missing the boys terribly since their last visit. And today is his birthday.

I am not sure if I should go with how honoured he will feel to be the center of a little boy's wish and tell him or understand that while the honour will be deep, so will the cut that he cannot make this wish come true. I think it would rip out a part of his heart.

Such a hard call. And a sweet, sweet wish.

Dessert

2010-04-28T20:20:00.003-04:00

We don't have dessert every night. Often it is fruit of some kind, if we do have it. But lately, Xander has decided he has to ask each and every night, "What's for dessert, Mom?"

The first answer I gave him tonight (randomly, off the top of my head was, "Monkey turds."

Which got a big blank face, as we've never used the word turd before. Ray and I translated it to poop and Xander laughed and replied, "No, really???"

So, again, randomly, I said, "Jumping beans!" And Ray and I came up with a story about how they jump in your tummy and in your mouth, and even all over the table, so you have to catch them first.

I could swear Xander actually rolled his eyes at us!

And the crowning glory was when he said, "Besides poop and beans, WHAT are we having for dessert?"

:snickering: Me thinks this boy might be on to us.

What's Keeping Me Away

2010-04-27T21:15:00.003-04:00

What, you may wonder, has been keeping me away from my blog for 11 days. I want to claim it is all interesting stuff, but some is the mundane results of another flu...and now allergies galore. And some of it is from catching up at work. And the house. Did I mention that I have suspicions that laundry creates itself while we sleep. The towels are having parties at night and making themselves dirty. I swear that is the only reasonable explanation.

And since I don't have enough to do, I have joined Twitter and an online class for magazine writing.

But the biggest reason is reading. I finally managed to get enough time to finish Guy Gavriel Kay's latest book, Under Heaven. If I weren't already married and had my own kids. Plus he is married and has a life. And if it weren't extremely creepy, I might proposition that man. Because really, if the stuff he puts in print is that good (and believe me, it is that good), then imagine what pillow talk would flush out of his brain!

And now I am back to Jacqueline Carey's second Kushiel series (second book in). I have to thank my friend Tara for recommending these books. They are absolutely beautiful and I end up reading far into the night and wishing there was more time to read.

So I have abandoned writing on this blog for stolen moments with my book. Oh, and for the record, I read the Guy Kay book in the traditional dead-tree version and am reading Kushiel's on my e-book reader.

Xander's Favourite Song

2010-04-16T09:29:00.002-04:00

Xander loves to listen to Daniel Powter's Bad Day. In fact, he sings along every time. Something about this song appeals to him on a soul level, from what I can tell. My morning started off with Daniel and Xander singing along, so I thought I would share.
(BTW, this is not the version that Xander sings to, but I couldn't get that version on YouTube.)

Spring Clean Out

2010-04-15T12:31:00.002-04:00

Liam is a few months past two now. When Xander was two, we knew that we wanted another baby. Liam is two and we are both more towards the no end than the yes end. But Liam has been a hard little nut to crack, in terms of food and sleep and just generally settling life out. I could change my mind, but the more I think about going back to having a tiny one and doing all of that all over again, the less inclined I am to make that journey. Only time will tell in the end, but if you are betting, my recommendation wouldn't be to bet on another child here.

So I am sorting through clothes and getting rid of the ones we are done with. I keep telling myself that they are just clothes. A few I have kept, because the memories are so strong of the moments when the kids wore them. But most of the 12 month to 18 month clothing has now gone to a new home.

The best part about this is that they've gone to our daycare provider, K. She has a little boy, Nick, who is almost a year(and he is the cutest thing...don't tell his mom that I just want to kiss his cheeks all the time!) Plus, Liam thinks that Nick is a combination of his little brother and his best friend. (Funny enough, Xander and Lexi, K's daughter who is only a few months younger than Xman, think the same thing of each other.) What I am driving at is that we are fortunate enough to have K and her family as good friends, who feel a lot like extended family. And it feels good to pass things on to them. Like just passing it through the family.

Even when you know you are over 90% sure you are done, still there are hesitations. But as I am going through and passing clothing on, I find that it feels great too. A little more space. A few less things. Somehow, it seems like clearing things out is giving my brain space to be creative and think and go forward.

Identity

2010-04-14T09:38:00.003-04:00

Ray and I talk in the car. We always have these deep, meaningful conversations as we drive a distance. The longer the distance, the more time to delve into these thoughts. We love the long-distance drives...and the kids are becoming used to them. Last weekend we went to Stratford and back, which amounts to a total of about 3 hours of chat time.

We talked about identity.

Think back to when you were young: your identity was probably about who your parents were and what they did, to what you liked to do, to the place you lived. When you go to university or college, the first questions people ask are: What's your major? and Where are you from? Which are identity questions. Now, as a mother, I find that there are questions about vaccinating, babywearing, working in and out of the home, and breastfeeding. Which are veiled identity questions (are you a crunchy or main stream momma).

As a mother who works from home part of the time and had the kids home the other part of the time, I am in a weird camp. I breastfed my kids and wore them (Ray wore them too!) and made my own baby food. All of that says crunchy! But then I also use disposable diapers and vaccinate. Which is not so crunchy.

Identity, as it turns out, is not a definitive. It's more an ebb and flow.

But on Saturday night, Ray and I were not talking so much about female identity, but about male identity. Because men tend to identify themselves by jobs first. But what if you hate your job? Does that mean you hate yourself? What if you don't know what your job should be? What if you are between jobs? How do men define themselves in these cases?

Sometimes I think as women we have it a little easier when it comes to identity. I can be anything I want to be. My sisters fought for that for me, and I do not take that for granted. Men, on the other hand, are still defined by their jobs. Some are slowly beginning to define themselves by hobbies (which can be a replacement for the job and essentially be a job without pay in some cases). The odd man has taken on the caregiver roles that have been typically the domain of women...which is a whole other kettle of fish and not an easy path to tread for identity. And some are just meandering. Wandering through the mire of available identity, without being able to choose.

It's not so cut and dried, this identity thing.

Spring Visiting

2010-04-11T09:41:00.002-04:00

There are always more things to do around the house. Always. But yesterday was bright and sunny and a bit warm. It didn't feel like a day to do things around the house. Despite the chaos. So we made a few phone calls to friends we don't see as often as we like and ended up in Stratford for the afternoon and most of the evening.

We had a really good time.

Ray has known Scott and Carla since he was 14. Which starts to add up. I've known Ray 15 years now, and that's beginning to make me feel like I've known his friends for a long time...and most of them are my friends too now.

One thing I love about visiting with some of our friends and breaking out of our routines is that it makes me think in different ways. Consider new ideas, new projects, and even just new angles. That was what happened for me yesterday. By the end of the evening, it was happening fast and furious, which is part of what took us so long to leave! (And that part we are paying for today with bone deep weariness. Which proves we are no longer in our early 20s. Alas.)

Hopefully we can hang on to these thoughts and the neurons will continue to fire in different directions for a few days. Maybe I will catch a few of them. What makes your brain fire up in different ways?

Also, spring visits have begun and I am tickled to be looking into 6 months of outside time and time with friends near and far. Suddenly, summer vacation seems to be almost on our doorstep.

I guess that makes yesterday's visit a two-for-one!

Out With Kids

2010-04-09T09:25:00.003-04:00

I've been reading Her Bad Mother for a while now and today Catherine has a great post up about how babies are people too. Catherine's argument was that within reason, a parent should be able to take his or her children out in public. It's not a stretch, really. But people do discriminate against children in public. As is evidenced by about 1/2 of the comments on Catherine's blog.

Yes, kids are loud. They touch things. Sometimes they throw tantrums.

I am reminded of my friend Sherry, who used to deal with the stares, by saying to her little boy when he threw a tantrum, "Look Morgan, now you've made everyone STARE at us!" Which had a shaming effect on the audience and people would start to turn away.

You know, sometimes it is my kids who are acting badly in a store. I admit it. Xander is particularly fond of touching things or throwing tantrums in public. Most of the tantrums are caused by me thwarting his efforts for mischief. Or, heaven forbid, me disciplining him by not allowing him to have what his heart desires at that moment because he was badly behaved. And sometimes when he is running amok somewhere, it is just because I have fought 100 battles on that day and have chosen to let him run in the grocery store aisle because I really just cannot fight at that exact moment. Because, really, you do have to chose your battles and a nearly empty grocery store at 2 in the afternoon might not be the one worth fighting that day or that particular hour.

I am constantly shocked at finding out that there are so many judgments. Another friend of mine has 5 kids. They are awesome kids and reasonably behaved. And yet she is judged for having "so many kids". And they go places and do things too, so I cannot imagine the double judgment for not only having the guts to have that many children, but to take them in public too. (insert an eyeroll here at the people who think such things)

So, yes, I take my kids out in public. The shop and they dine out. Often in restaurants where people serve you, rather than fast food where we are supposed to all be segregated until our kids are some magical age.

But on the other hand, I have had people in restaurants tell me how well-behaved my kids are (may I add, on that day). And Xander loves to chat people up at the grocery store, despite his monkey business. (And really, who can blame him: the place is a smorgasbord of things to see, rails to climb on, and then there are the buttons to push to make the groceries come down the little conveyor belt!) But of late he has become helpful and sweet. Even if I am still exhausted at the end of our shopping. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

And although taking my kids in public is sometimes not fun -- who likes to have to remove a screaming child from a store??? I assure you, it is not me! -- more times than not they behave and we enjoy each other's company.

About two weeks ago, I had a clerk tell me how well behaved he was in the grocery store. And I told her it was not always so, but that if I didn't take him, he would never learn how to do it.

This is the biggest lesson of all: I take my kids out because otherwise I will have teenagers who don't know to behave and soon enough they will be adults who have no clue. I tell my kids that I trust them. That they are worthy. And that I believe they CAN do it. And on the days when it turns out they can't do it, I promise them we will try again.

It's a learning experience. For all of us.

Some days, when it is not me toting the screaming child...I look at the mother who has that child, smile and say "it's okay...my kids do it too." There's a sisterhood in that moment. Others have done it for me and it sticks in my head more than the mean, judgmental people. Because above all, it is our jobs as parents to make sure that our children grow up to be productive and respectful members of society. Mean, judgmental people be damned.

Organization and A New Love

2010-04-09T08:47:00.003-04:00

We've been flipping rooms around. Two of them, actually. Our family room had been my office and the kids' playroom (it's a big room) and the living room had been our library and living space. I wanted to go back to having the television in the family room and my office in the library space. When the old television broke, we decided to go for the switch.

Except it isn't as easy as all that. We cleaned and painted a bit. And rearranged some furniture. But the new television goes on the wall and our entertainment unit is outdated. So where to put the DVDs and other stuff that goes along with a television? We have a hutch downstairs that is doing that job now. But when you empty that out and move it, where does the stuff in it go? And then we need a new place to put x, y, and z.

You see how this can go around for days and days, right.

We've made progress. And I am happy, despite the constant shuffle.

And last night Ray and I sat down to watch our first movie on the new television and blue ray player. We choose Sherlock Holmes. I have to say, move over Ray, because I have a new love in my life. I adore our television! It was worth the wait and the money and the hassle to get it up on the wall. All of that. It was worth it!

Ah...love!

Motivation

2010-04-07T10:36:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure if it is spring, the cold that took over our house the other day, the chaos that has resulted from buying a new television (we're flipping rooms around and doing a bit of painting and a lot of reorganization), or a combination of these things. Maybe it is none of them.

But I am having a hard time getting my thoughts together and organizing them enough to write.

Since I live off my writing, this is not a good thing.

I don't have much to accomplish today: one blog for one of my clients and a resume for a neighbour. And I have been procrastinating on the resume for a while, so it has to be done. I want to do a bit of laundry, work out, do some dinner prep.

And yet, I am just slow and lazy and wandering around with my thoughts. Which may be why I haven't blogged much lately.

Sugar Bush

2010-03-30T07:54:00.005-04:00

Our Spring Break was two weeks ago now, but I never did get around to posting about it. We spent Friday with my friend Jeanaha and her family. Jeanaha has 3 kids: Devlin is a year older than Xander, Ceilidh is a year younger than Xander (and says he is her boyfriend, tee hee), and Aisling is a little bit younger than Liam. It's a nice mixture! Basically, now that the two babies are hitting the 2 year old mark, the whole lot of them entertain themselves and each other and the adults can talk.

There wasn't as much talking on that Friday, because we went to the Maple Syrup Festival. We had lots of fun. Our day started out with pancakes, syrup and sausages. Then a wagon ride and a walk through the bush, where we heard some of the history of making maple syrup. We wrapped the day up by going to the playbarn and running the last of the energy off them.

Monkeying around before meeting our friends:

Our five monkeys, listening. (Look carefully, as it is unlikely we'll get all five of them to listen at once again.)

The Search for Electronics and Bigger Messes

2010-03-29T11:27:00.005-04:00

We've long talked about the glories of a flat screen television. When the discussions began we still lived in the apartment (Ray and I rented a condo for the first few years we were together, then moved to another city and got an apartment, then bought our house) and I told Ray is was ridiculous. They were 10 grand and up then, so it was ridiculous. And we had a fabulous new television back then. That was nigh to 10 years ago though.

Television prices dropped, our house became smaller with the pitter pat of little feet, and I crave more space. A television on a wall means no need for a huge entertainment unit (although I have seen that you can still get an old style media center that is scaled to a flat screen tv...and I have to say that I just do not get it, because I want to get rid of mine). But our television worked great and had great sound and beautiful picture.

Until it didn't.

Yesterday morning Xander got about 15 minutes of cartoons before the darn thing went blank and beeped at us. As though to taunt us with it's insolence. Hmmph. Well, TV shopping was not on the list for yesterday, but it became the entire list.

So we called our friend John and harassed him for information on televisions. Then we did online research and harassed him some more. Then naps and lunch and out to look at these televisions. We've looked and thought about it before, but not in earnest, since our mantra was "not until the television we have dies". It died, we looked and were serious. We called John and harassed him more. He was a good sport!

In the end, we decided on a 46" Sharp Aquos (I could have been talked into the 52" and Ray could have too, but neither of us were the ones to be convincing the others and it did seem a tad big) and a Sony Blue Ray player. Ironically, today is bulk garbage day, so the old television is already on the curb. Sometimes we move fast!

Now comes the big work. When we first moved in, we had our living room as a library and my office. It really was set up to be my room. And our basement family room had the living room stuff, including our television. Xander was just over 2 and he had a thing about "Mommy, come and see...." and also dragging bits of my computer (mainly the cordless mouse) all over the place. It drove me crazy, so we moved the couch and television upstairs. And the office stuff went downstairs. Our books stayed put. So right now we have a living room and library combo in the main floor room, and my office and a load of toys in the basement. We are all ready to switch it around. So there needs to be some work doing that.

But before you get out your dollie and moving clothes, we are also redoing our fireplace. It's almost done (I swear). Mostly it is down to painting. I think it is 2-3 evenings worth of work. But that should be done before the moving begins.

Poor Xander just wants to watch his new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles BR on the new television. I foresee a long, long week ahead of us.

Ponderings in Bits and Pieces

2010-03-24T13:03:00.002-04:00

In the little scraps of time, between chasing boys to change diapers and clothes and harangue them into the bathtub, then working and balancing general maintenance things in life (after all, we do all need clean clothes and dishes at regular intervals), Ray and I have been talking a lot. And in the tiny silent moments, I am also contemplating a few things of my own.

I'd like a little input from all of you too.

- What two things do you do to keep yourself organized? Do you feel like you are organized? Is it an ongoing battle or something you've licked?

- Name a few of your biggest blessings right now. What are the things that make you smile?

- What do you think of or who do you think about when you hear the word tribe? Who is in your tribe? Is it big or small? Do you think there is one tribe for a person or many interlinking tribes.

I have more, but at this point I want to hear what you think and don't want to overload you.

Here are some of my answers:

I try to keep on top of dishes and laundry. If those two things are out of control, I feel like the rest is hopeless. And I intermittently keep a list of what needs doing, both today and for the week or even a master list for later/when we can get to it. It's all a work in progress and I feel like I have never quite mastered this since we had kids.

My kids and family in general are the biggest blessings. I love it when Xander gives Liam a big hug when he falls and whacks himself. It's the sweetest, tenderest thing I have ever witnessed. Ray is a good dad and a great husband; he's incredibly supportive. I've also been feeling blessed that I have a job that is flexible, so I can be with my family and juggle my priorities. Work is important to me and my self-identification, but it is not the most important thing. I really straddle two worlds, but wouldn't change that. But I have been feeling blessed that I have such a love of reading and people and just generally want to see and do things. And Spring is started in our neck of the woods...there are no words that can encompass how thrilled I am about that.

Originally, when I hear the word tribe, I think about Africa and families or communities there. But when I let go of that notion a little, I realized we all live in tribes. Or in my estimation, we do. My immediate and extended family are a tribe. We have a neighbourhood and friends who extend that tribe. And globally, I have a tribe. Even my online groups have become part of my tribe. I tend to visualize this as many interconnecting smaller tribes, which contribute to my whole tribe, but because I have people in one tribe who are not part of each other's lives, I don't think it is necessarily one tribe. I'm still working on this idea.

So, give a whack at one or all of these questions. If you do it here, I can read and respond to the comments. If you want to link to your own blog and put your answers there, I will follow and try to respond there too. You too are part of my tribe...let's have a conversation!

Of Bunnies and Pigs

2010-03-22T12:45:00.002-04:00

I have two good Xander stories from this weekend.

We were talking about Easter in some way this weekend and Xander turns to me and says, "Mom, is the Easter bunny real?"

Seriously? He's only 4.5! I thought we had longer than this.

So, in my best serious voice, I said, "Well, Xander, what do you think?"

As quick as can be, he replied, "I think it's just a man in a suit!"

HOLY COW! Seriously?!?

I very calmly said, "I guess the Easter bunny won't be coming then."

Well, that changed his little tune. He put on a very stern voice and said, "No Mom! The Easter bunny comes to EVERY child." And then went on to explain how there are lots of Easter bunnies all over the world to accomplish this task.

:sigh:

This kid is going to make me go gray.

******
Then yesterday morning Ray and Xander were talking about bacon and how much they love bacon. Ray starts teasing Xander about how much he'd love to have a bacon tree (insert me gagging at the thought of raw meat hanging from a tree), so he could go out and just get fresh bacon whenever he wanted.

So I said, "Xander, do you think that is how we get bacon?"
"Yup!" he said eagerly.
I shook my head.
"No, we get bacon from a pig."
"Really?" Xander says, "Cool...so do you just chop off it's head?" And he makes a chopping motion.

I am not sure where he got it from, but he's mostly right. And he was really excited about it. At least he's not squeamish. And he comes from a family with several generations of farmers. I guess those genes run true.

Chop, chop. :rolling eyes:

They say it's an art...

2010-03-12T12:03:00.008-05:00

Hiding in Plain Sight

2010-03-09T09:03:00.002-05:00

I've been very lucky to find a group of online friends who are supportive and have a strong code of conduct. We don't swear at each other. We don't put each other down. And we generally behave toward each as if we were sitting in each other's living rooms and chatting face-to-face. We're respectful, by and large. I don't mean to say we don't argue or disagree. We do; it's inevitable with a group of 400-ish women who span at least 3 continents (I know some in Asia, Europe, and North America) and come from diverse political, social, and economic backgrounds. But we are there to support each other.

I have some amazing stories of support. Our group has had women lose beloved husbands and fathers to cancer and car accidents. We've had divorces, abuses, and substance problems come up. And the saddest of all, has been the loss of children. These too, we have endured and held each other up for. Each one a dart to our hearts.

And still we talk, laugh, cry, and hold the hands of our friends. Some of us have met and become friends in person.

This is the boon of online groups.

Unfortunately, it is not all like this. There is another group I know of that are pretty much the antithesis of my primary group. Sometimes women on these groups forget that there are real people on the other end. Some of them want to pretend they are wiser and smarter than they are (take my word for it: you fool no one when you do this). And I have seen these women make fun of each other, swear at each other, and generally be disrespectful and rude. It was asked recently why they are so mean. The general answer was to "put your big girl panties on" and that they "like it that way". These same women generally claim that they are the same way in person.

I cannot prove it, but it is my guess that they are not. If they were, they would have no friends.

This is the curse of online groups: being able to hide who you really are and act as though the people on the other end of the keyboard aren't real. Allowing yourself liberties that should never be taken. This is the seedy underside.

Are there conversations on this second group that are respectful. There are people who truly want to discuss political and social issue in a constructive manner. And I applaud them. Of course, it is the smattering of people who like to stir up trouble and hide in plain sight that ruin it.

My Son the Stripper

2010-03-07T10:05:00.002-05:00

Liam was wandering around after breakfast yesterday morning and he spotting a basket of clean laundry in the living room. He went over, pulled out a clean shirt, and began to strip himself of his pajamas. I laughed and helped him.

Last night, we went out with friends for dinner and left the kids with a sitter. Both boys were in their pajamas before we left. Liam goes to bed in a light pair of regular pajamas and then a pair of fleecy footy pajamas. The second layer is like having a blanket on him, since he won't keep a blanket on top of himself. We got home and both boys were sound asleep. The sitter said they were great and went down without a problem. About an hour after we got home, I went up to check on them...and I laughed. Liam was in only one pair of pajamas. He had obviously stripped the overlayer of jammies off and thrown them over the edge of his crib.

And thus the stripping begins...

A little fun and distraction

2010-03-04T20:07:00.002-05:00

Did you know it is March? It's the fourth, in fact. I just sent my invoice off to one of my clients. Normally I do this task on the first or second of the month, but the end of February and the beginning of March have escaped me.

It's no wonder. We had Liam's birthday party, which was an all around success and deserves a post of its own soon. My parents have been visiting, which is nice. The kids have had a blast! The other afternoon my Mom and I went out to do a bit of shopping and left my Dad with Xander. Xander and his Grandpa spent three hours goofing around and just rough housing. Amazing! I am not sure who had the better time. Liam came home after two hours of it and was welcomed into the fray. By all accounts, fun was had.

I've had a few doctor's appointments, ran some errands, and I have been doing an hour's exercise every day. It is my goal to do an hour a day for 2 weeks. So far, so good. I've had two days where that exercise was not the intense-gym-based exercise, but I have still managed. I am also slowly catching up on the errands that have been piling up through illnesses, sleep deprivation, and working time.

So I am distracted, having some fun, and just plain busy.

Now to do some work, so I can bill my clients for March too!

Almost TWO

2010-02-26T13:15:00.011-05:00

I'm in a bit of shock and denial. It seems that my wee little baby is turning two.

I know...TWO?!?

How oh how did this happen? It was really just yesterday that Jennifer and I were teasing Michele about having a leap year baby...and then I was in labour and it was ME having a leap year baby. A baby who shocked us all by arriving 22 days early. Perhaps I am remembering it all the more, because my parents are returning tonight from their annual vacation to Cuba. Two years ago, they returned only to find that they'd missed Liam's birth by less than 2 days! (I'm still not sure that my Mom has completely forgiven Ray for going and picking them up at the airport and saying NOTHING to them about his arrival. I know that I am not done thanking him for helping me surprise them!)

Yes, two years ago.

A two years that have gone fast and slow at the same time. Full of changes, loss, and victories. First steps, small words, lots of crying, and lots of love.

This year Liam doesn't have a "real" birthday, because his day exists in the moments between February 28th and March 1st. And to answer the never-ending question: he is a February baby, so we celebrate in February. Lucky Liam, because not having an official birthday three years out of four means that we celebrate all weekend. So tomorrow we start by having a party with our friends and family.

I still cannot believe that two years has passed.

From first sight....

To first year...
And now...

The best part of all is that we are looking forward to the surprises that will come...
We love you, little man!

P.S. We would be ever so grateful if we could have more sleep over the next two years than you allowed over the past two years. Consider it your gift to us.

Old Man Winter Shows His Face!

2010-02-25T21:24:00.014-05:00

We've had a fairly uneventful winter this year, so the kids haven't had a chance to play in the snow until this week. They've been enjoying it every moment they can ever since old man winter showed up.

I'm especially amused by Liam trying to make snowballs and throwing himself on the ground to do a snow angel (I need a picture of that!). Too darn cute!

In the Wake of the Quiet...

2010-02-22T22:06:00.004-05:00

I knew that quiet was a bad thing. I talked about it in my last post. About how quiet often means the kids are into something. That I had been quiet lately because we'd been sick. It's true. That's why I was quiet here. But alas, in the wake of quiet comes questioning and disbelief.

Kevin Jones is dead.

It's unlikely that any of you reading this blog know who Kevin was, but that's okay. Kevin was my high school classmate. We were in a small class. I believe it was 62 or 63 of us that graduated. Within that class there was an even smaller French Immersion class. I did not graduate in French Immersion in the end, but that is another post. I did do my grade ten year in that class. There were 7 or 8 of us. Kevin was also in that class. We weren't the best of buddies. I don't know his first pet's name or his favourite colour. But he was part of my life. I told my husband that we were "good acquaintances". It wasn't quite friendship, but more than just passing in the hallway. We shared a time and a history and a certain knowledge together. And in classes that are this small, there is a feeling among most of friendship.

If I had met Kevin in the street, I would have hugged him.

But that time has passed. Kevin is gone. I'm hard pressed to put a finger on the grief that comes with the passing of someone who was more than a classmate, but not quite a bosom friend. There is loss though. And surprise. Shock. Horror.

At 35, you don't expect mysterious death to visit a classmate. At 35, part of me feels a little like we are all invincible. We're not, I know. But we should be.

And this has been a hard six months: Lisa, Mary, Shirley, Stella, Rolly, and now Kevin. All gone. Friends, acquaintances, people who were almost family, my mentor, and now a classmate. We've only had a few weeks here and there since the beginning of October to try to make peace with these passings, before another one happens and sends me into another tailspin.

Honestly, I am not over Rolly's death yet. I still have no peace. No answers. No closure. And no idea how to go about having those things. Forming them for myself, because of distance.

And then Kevin.

I really want someone to tell me that this will end soon. That this pattern of deaths will break. That I will not wake up tomorrow or next week to yet another loss. Yes, I know that no one can assure me of that. No one knows one way or another.

So I am blundering my way through these deaths, just as we all blunder through death, and hoping that there will be enough time before the next one, so I can gather myself together.

For now, all I can do is say goodbye to Kevin. And honour those who have left us by trying to live my own moments as fully as possible.

Quiet

2010-02-21T22:32:00.002-05:00

As a Mom, you learn that sometimes quiet is a sign of trouble. When my kids are quiet, often they are getting into something. This is more true for Xander than Liam. And it is not just quiet that defines their trouble. Lately Xander being in trouble is often preceded by Liam screaming (Xander has thinks that if he hangs on to a toy, that it is his and Liam cannot play with it...he's learning that we don't put up with hoarding toys and that if he is not playing with it, Liam will get it.).

In any case, the reason I have been so quiet here is because we are coming off a week of sick. It started with Xander, who was sick for about 3 days with a fever of 102 and a wicked cough. He got better fairly quickly, although he had a one afternoon and evening of relapse later in the week. Liam was a couple days behind Xander, but his was mainly a fever of 103. By the fourth day, he had acquired the intermittent cough of a three-pack-a-day smoker and we took him in to the doctor. He was pronounced to have infections in both ears and pneumonia.

Needless to say, my work week was shot!

So I have spent my week wheedling liquids, food, and Advil into tiny people. Cuddling. Wiping noses. Checking on"monkeys", which is our term for taking temperatures.

The other day I told Xander that I was sorry he was feeling bad, only to be told, "It's not your fault Mommy. It's the monkeys' fault for having a party in there." And said with the utmost seriousness too.

Of course, one cannot be breathed upon, sneezed on, coughed on, and snotted on without some measure of risk to one's own health.

So the last few days I have found myself less energetic. Feeling a little achy. And today I have a low-grade fever of 99+ degrees. Fun stuff.

So I have been a little quiet.

Lent: Missing the Point

2010-02-17T20:48:00.003-05:00

Today, someone on a forum I frequent was asking about Lent and "giving things up" for 4o days as a tradition of Lent. This has long been a subject that is near to my heart, as I have thought of it a lot and had a fair number of encounters surrounding the sacrifices requested by the Catholic church during Lent. Even recently, I have noticed a number of people who are giving up electronic habits for Lent. And I find myself wondering if they are missing the point.

My response to that post sits so nicely in my head that I need to put it here too...

Keep in mind that anyone out there can be stupid about any old tradition.

I was Catholic, so I "get" Lent. And I had the same problem as you do, years ago. I was working with a bunch of Catholic girls who were crazy about sticking to every rule that was ever made about Lent. It was nuts. I think they dug a few up from 1242, if you know what I mean. And I would ignore them. Although I understand Lent, I don't do and never have done these things. They'd say stupid things to me like "God will punish you for eating meat on a Tuesday." It was ridiculous, and a little sad on their parts. I would challenge them and tell them I highly doubted that God was interested in my culinary choices of the day.

In the end, this annoyed me so much, that I went to my 80-something year old grandmother. Keep in mind, this is a woman who has a grade 3 education. She was removed from her home in Poland at the age of 14 and sent to a Nazi work camp. And she is a staunch Catholic. So I told her what they were saying, as I was interested in her spin. Frankly, I thought it would be the same as the girls I was working with. Not so...

She said, "No. You fast or give up things for Lent for YOU to feel closer to God. God will not be angry at you. God did not make these rules. But sometimes doing without makes you feel closer to God and understand Jesus more."

I am no longer Catholic. And I have struggled recently with the scattered remains of my faith. But I can understand what she was saying. Her explanation makes sense to me: as a sacrificing of yourself to understand a sacrifice made for you. Even on a small scale.

I'm not sure of much in religion, but I am sure that most Christians who practice a Lenten sacrifice are completely missing the point.

What defines us...

2010-02-12T23:07:00.005-05:00

Tonight the Olympic games begin in Vancouver. It's a time for Canada to show our colours and take pride in our identity, while playing host to an international event. Which is interesting, when you think about it, because Canada is very much "international" with our mosaic ideology and history of immigration. Hosting the Olympics and inviting our friends, neighbours and international colleagues into our home is an extraordinary event. And if nothing else, the people I know and the places I have been are all rooted in a deep sense of hospitality, so I hope that those who come and enjoy these games, either in person or via television, will find themselves enjoying that hospitality and thinking about returning to our land.

I've lived all over Canada and visited from east to west coast, plus as north as Labrador. I've seen the northern lights dance and the wind caress the prairie crops. I've put my feet in the Great Lakes and stood in our Rockie Mountains. My family has served overseas in the military.

In my soul, I carry all of Canada.

As a university student, my minor was Canadian Studies. I'm fascinated by where we have been and what defines us. In the 1990s, many Canadian scholars focused on what were are not. We are not American, not British, and not French. Although our relations with our American neighbours and our British and French ancestors are important too. But time has gone on and I have noticed whisperings and mullings of what we are now.

The opening ceremonies of the 2010 Olympics did show so much of us, from past to present. We trotted out many of our celebrities, from kd lang to Brian Adams to Rick Hansen to Wayne Gretzky and many, many more. There were speculations in some circles of a visual of Terry Fox to do the final lighting of the flame. Although as a country we will never forget Terry, the image of a collection of our heroes and athletes lighting the flame together is a strong one and I find myself proud of that choice.

I'm still mulling over the imagery from the musical and visual presentations. The fiddling in the fall presentation spoke to me deeply. It was the mosaic and my heart soared to recognize it. Weavings of fiddle music that has different roots from coast to coast, but yet has grown into a single voice. A voice that is our country and our people. Those differences define us and challenge us. Seeing them come together in beauty should inspire us.

As a daughter of the Prairie (I was born in Edmonton, Alberta and also spent my teenage years in Manitoba and Saskatchewan) and a student of Canadian literature, I could smell Prairie summer and feel the wind for a moment during the Prairie presentation. Watching the one artist fly as the wind made me ache a little inside. Now I know why I dream of flying frequently and why some summers come and I turn to my husband and tell him that I have to go home to the Prairie and see the wheat blow this summer.

The poetry of Shane Koyczan was breathtaking. You too, Shane, define us.

As you think about the images and the people you came to know tonight, please know that this really is Canada. We are a young, vibrant nation. Strong. Complex. Full of life. Our history carries burdens and blessings. Our people are as varied as the fish in the ocean and our definition is just as slippery.

I am always proud to be Canadian. Tonight though, I am proud that we can stand up and speak about what it is to be Canadian and to begin to show the world the beauty that lies within our land and our people.

If this is your first taste of Canada, I say: "Welcome!"
If you are returning, I say: "Welcome back!"

This is the part that drives me bonkers

2010-02-08T12:07:00.002-05:00

I'm in the middle of a technical writing project and I have reached the part where it drives me crazy. I feel like I am in the bowels of hell right now. In the beginning of a project, you have the early learning about the item/project/company. Later on, you get to write like mad. But this part here is where I pull and tug at different pieces and try to get them to all line up. It's like wrestling a herd of cats, I tell you! And I am just frustrated all the time.

I do know it will fall into place. I know that I can write it. I know that there will come a moment when the pieces will fall into place and I will understand it all. And then it almost writes itself.

But right now I am just tugging at it and trying to fix it all. And it's incredibly frustrating. These are the moments when I think about taking up hair dressing or nails or something else...anything else.

Remind me that the light is coming soon. Please.

Raw Grief

2010-02-07T08:20:00.003-05:00

I've experienced death before. Death of grandparents. Death of a friend's baby. Death of colleagues and people in my circle. I'm 35, so it would be odd if I had not experienced it. In fact, the last few months have been rife with death. It started with a woman named Lisa, who owned the bookstore that my husband loved going to in his hometown. He'd known her for about 20 years. I knew her in passing. Then my husband's cousin's wife lost her mother. We knew her too, but we were mostly sad for Karen's loss. My best friend from junior high, Kim, lost her mother suddenly to a stroke. My grief was deeper there. I knew Kim's mother well, had spent many hours in her home and under her care as a child, and she was my Mother's age. It hit home.

A few weeks later, we found out that an old family friend, one we'd lost track of, had passed away.

It's felt like every few weeks in the last few months, there has been someone else.

Last night, Ray and I went to see Avatar in the movie theater. I have other posts in me about that movie, but when I came home, my Mom told me that Kim had called. She'd heard just that evening that Rolly had died.

Roland Denis Ouimet was my eighth and ninth grade teacher. I was 13 when I met him. I had only been back in Canada for a year at that time. My family was the lone military family in that area, and there was little understanding for the places we'd traveled to and the life we led. I was bullied mercilessly. Rolly discovered that I loved to read, so he not only helped me to complete my required classwork faster, but then he fed me the books. I read more and more. Soon, I read through the entire library in our little school. He was creative; we had one day a cycle (we had a 7 day school cycle, rather than a Monday to Friday schedule) where we went to the high school in the next village and he got permission for me to borrow books. He spoke to me and guided me through reading.

He set me on the path that would lead me to do a literature degree and become a writer. He believed in me.

For a long time, Rolly was my teacher and then my mentor. Most of all, he was my friend. For almost 23 years now, he has been my friend.

And now, suddenly, at the age of 59, he is gone.

I am not sure how to process this loss. The grief is raw. I have no details. And I have no tangible way to say goodbye to this man who was a friend and a mentor. I feel like there are still things to say. Questions to ask. And I feel this grief in a way that is raw and encompassing.

Updating the Sleep Situation

2010-02-04T20:41:00.003-05:00

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! We're sleeping. Mostly. And I didn't want to disturb the equilibrium by talking about it. So I've been a bit quiet on the issue lately.

Nevertheless, it seems to be working.

After my last post about the sleep monster, I did manage to get to talk to Tracey. Can I say again how phenomenal she is? She is phenomenal! In the middle of her own crisis, she called me back and made sure we were okay. Helped us tweak what we were doing and brought us to the other side of the problem.

So, it turns out that we were shushing him too much. Crap, I didn't realize there was a "too much" to that. This is why we need Tracey. It seems that Liam has taken the shushing for talking to him and has chosen to argue back. Thus the screaming at us for 3 nights running. Boy do I feel silly. I wish we'd just called her to begin with, instead of thinking we could wait him out. There is no waiting this child out, it appears. So we cut the shushing down. I laugh a little when I think about Tracey's "about every 16 minutes", because 16 is such an odd number. But it made the point. We shush infrequently now. He knows we are here. Now get over it and sleep, buddy boy.

Also, after the couple of times Liam threw up in the beginning, Ray was nervous about him causing himself to throw up again. So he would go in and check on him. He was also giving Liam back his soother when he threw it. You know this goes nowhere good right? Ray had the best of intentions. Now we go in for nothing.

And we have slept through the night for two nights.

But he's a wily little man, my Liam. Instead of giving it to us in the middle of the night, he's now trying both ends of the night. Two nights running he sang, yelled, threw his soother, and generally made a nuisance of himself for 2-3 hours before he would go to sleep. To no avail. Seriously, child? Do you not know that if Mommy and Daddy have it together enough to ignore your efforts to disrupt sleep at 2 am, that certainly your shenanigans at 8 or 9 pm will not move us. We are on to your game, wee man. Best to give it up.

We waited through the two nights. I am not going to say it is over, because I have a feeling with this child it will never be completely over, but it was under an hour tonight.

And then there are mornings. The first night he slept through the night, he woke up at 6:30 am. Now, I am not very happy about 6:30, because I have a personal preference for 7-7:30. We have Xander trained to a 7 am wake up. (My actual internal clock likes 8 am, but 7 will do.) So I did not greet 6:30 am with enthusiasm, but felt I should give the kid a break, because he did sleep through the night. And what would making him fuss or cry or scream in his crib for 30 minutes accomplish anyway?

Yeah, I was about as wrong as a human being can be. This morning we were greeted with a 5:50 am wake up as a result of our lack of insisting he stay in bed until 7 am. And if I was enthused about 6:30 am, you can imagine the joy in me at ten to six. Yeah, not so much. So this morning we bit the bullet and let him cry about it.

Liam's developed a couple of interesting tactics to make us come to him. First there is the soother tossing, which boggles my mind, because I know he loves his soother and really, wouldn't that be like having a whole chocolate cake in your hands and then deciding you were mad at someone and throwing that cake on the ground? Who loses? Not the person you were mad at, for sure. YOU. Liam will eventually figure that out...or be broken of his soother habit. Either way, Mommy and Daddy will win that little battle too. Hopefully he gets that memo soon! The whole soother tossing phenomenon aside, there is also the yelling at the top of his lungs and now he is actually making himself cough and cough to try to get us to go in and check on him. Smart, no? I've actually watched him turn it on and off. Truly an act that should be given an Emmy.

It almost makes me wonder what will be next.

He'll get it. Especially since we are getting better rest than we used to and can wait this out a bit.

What I want to be when I grow up.

2010-02-02T22:04:00.005-05:00

So, I am in my mid-30s and still I contemplate this question. Only, sometimes it is more like "what I want to be when my kids are in school". Because there is an assumption that them going to school will bring change to the way I work.

Maybe. Maybe not.

I've been working contracts and piecemeal writing gigs for 2.5 years now. It's given me the opportunity to write and edit a wide variety of material.

Before this, I was a technical writer and a technical editor. I loved technical editing, but was not as fond of the writing. It was good, but it didn't make my heart sing. And it is very, very stylized. Plus, each firm uses slightly different styles. But, technical writing brings in good money.

So, sometimes I take the jobs that are incredibly interesting and sometimes I take the ones that pay well. It's a juggling act.

I'm doing a technical writing gig right now. The people are nice and the company seems decent. The project is fairly short, but challenging. It's a nice balance.

However, I am reminded of the reasons I gave up the corporate world. Debates over who has the time to do something and who has what information are pretty common in this environment. I understand it and am patient, but a long-term commitment to this kind of situation would not be in the best interest of my own sanity. It was great to dress up today, but tomorrow I have no idea what I will wear. And surely by the end of the week I will miss my jammies. One of the big perks to working from home is an extended wearing of jammies when the mood strikes.

I've also spent the last couple of years experimenting with genres. From resumes to blogs to short articles and back to technical material. I've covered a lot of different writing. With the articles and blogging I have found what I lacked in the technical world: a voice. I have a writing voice. Who knew?

So, while I won't turn down the technical contracts that punctuate my working life. And I certainly produce a darn nice manual! I find that I miss the opportunities to use this newly found voice. And as I contemplate what I want to be when I grow up, I think more and more about projects that will use that voice to its fullest.

Sometimes Definitions Surprise Me

2010-02-01T20:57:00.008-05:00

What distinguishes those of us at the starting line from those of us on the couch is that we learn through running to take what the days gives us, what our body will allow us, and what our will can tolerate. - John Bingham, running writer and speaker

I've been running for a number of years now. I'd have to look it up, but I believe I am at 7. It might be 8. The first few years I ran 5k races. Before Xander was conceived, I ran a couple of 10k events. Between the boys, I ran my first half marathon. And this past year I ran two more half marathons.

Even by my own definitions, in my own plodding way, I am a runner. I live to put on my shoes and pace off miles. In the rain or snow or winds. There is almost nothing in the world that is more beautiful that running in the fall, with crunchy leaves underfoot. The smell of it follows me in my dreams. Although, these days, I dream of the smell of grass growing. That earthiness of spring.

So, for almost a decade now, I have marked the seasons by running new and old paths. Smelling and seeing and soaking in the world.

But I have spent a lot of time benched over the last 18 months. Very frustrating that, because I spent almost a year before it benched due to pregnancy. (Let me just say that running can be very safe when pregnant and I ran in the winter and into my 5th month with Xander, but with Liam I bled early on and was benched. He's worth it, despite my sleep complaints.) I've battled plantar fascitis, IT band injury, and now a torn spot in my hip flexor. Frustrating.

But even in my frustration I learn things.

I've been talking to my coach and to a friend's personal trainer. My coach said something beautiful...

Don't throw in the towel, this is the plight of many distance runners. We need to learn patience as we re-hab injuries along the way. Of course we also need to learn the lesson of always listening to our bodies and not training through sour pain.  Sometimes it's hard to figure out sweet and sour pain but ultimately that is our lesson so that we don't continue to run when we are injured or it just turns into chronic injury.

Yes, lessons. For sure. And I am not the most patient person to ever walk the earth, so mine is a lesson in patience too.

And my friend's personal trainer said something about "endurance athletes".

I've been chewing on his "endurance athletes" and my coach's "distance runners". Wondering when and how I got from being the little girl who holed up with books to this athlete. I still love books. I am still not the person who will play tennis or racketball (I just do not have the coordination for ball and stick sports). And no one in my high school class would believe it to know that I am the one out there running 10, 15, 20 kilometers on a Sunday morning. And yet, this is me. It is my heart and my reality.

Even when I am benched and all I can do is long for it and plan for the next time. Because the next time will come. Because I am an endurance athlete...a distance runner. It's not a resolution. I run because I have to, because my heart beats for this very reason. Even when my shoes are on the shelf and my hip aches too much to do it...this week.

Sleep Just Seems to be the Evasive Monster

2010-02-01T10:34:00.004-05:00

We hired The Sleep Doula a couple of weeks ago. She was fantastic and got us through the worst of setting ourselves up for new habits. And she basically talked us through the three nights that followed.

We are being consistent. Painfully so. To the point where Ray has now slept two nights in the hall. Out of over 10 days, or rather, nights of effort, we have had 2 where Liam slept through and one where he wasn't bad and the wake up was less than an hour. Granted, this is better than being up for 4 hours each night, but still really, really exhausting. Really!

We had the initial 3 nights, a night of sleep, then three nights of fussing. I talked to Tracey and she thought that was a burst, which is a period of time where the sleeper regresses. So when after three nights of fussing he slept the night, I thought to myself "Hooray!!! We've whipped the sleep monster into shape." This is working.

Yeah, um, not so much. It has now been followed by THREE nights of Liam screaming at us. Xander has slept two of those nights in our bed and Ray is on the air mattress in the hall. So while I want to say that this is the burst, I have questions. How long should a burst last? If we are on three nights of this how much longer should we expect it to go? And what the hell was the three nights of complaining then?

I know there are more questions, but I am just too tired to think about it.

The big thing is that this follows our previous patterns. Only this would be about the time I would throw up my hands and try something else. Only I've tried it all, so what alternatives do I have? So I will call Tracey and hope she either has comforting words or solutions.

Leave it to Xander

2010-01-29T22:42:00.002-05:00

My parents have been vacationing for 2 weeks every winter in Cuba for a long time now. Longer than Xander has been alive, in fact. When Liam was born two years ago, they were vacationing in Cuba. And they always come here for a few days before going, then stay a week or so with us on their way back. We can count on it like the ebb and flow of the seasons.

I've teased them that there are many places in the world and they out to think about branching out.

But tonight it was Xander who made the point much more effectively than any of us. He was chatting at the dinner table and said, "Some day, we can go and visit Nanny and Grandpa at their house...in Cuba."

Ray and I laughed so hard that I had to call my Mom later and tell her about it. She laughed too. She says, "Just one more year." Uh huh. Where have I heard that before? I wouldn't bet the bank on that one.

Betwixt and Between

2010-01-28T10:03:00.003-05:00

I have so many things on my mind. Yesterday's post and the responses from it have opened the floodgates. Also, there is work commentary in here too. However, the big thought I have been chewing on for a while has come together into a form I can start to poke at with words, so I am going to have a stab at it.

I feel like this stage in my life is a stage of being "between".

I neither work a regular job, nor am I a stay-at-home mom. Both are good options, but I have chosen to keep a foot in each world. It's a straddling act that causes much stress. And yet, I would not change this for the world. But I don't feel like there are many people to talk to. Most of my friends are in one world or the other. I am in between.

My children are no longer babies, but they are also not big kids. They are between, which makes our issues and our struggles ones that straddle both realms. We're not alone here, thankfully, but we are between.

My husband and I are firmly...on the fence about having another child. There are so many advantages to being done now. I have no desire to be pregnant and no desire to repeat PPD. Still, there are times I miss a sweet little baby to hold and think that maybe we should try this one more time. Yup, between again.

Lately, Ray and I have been discussing religion. We were both firmly in the Christian camp for a long time. It's our heritage. We baptized our boys Anglican. We've been part of a church community. And yet we are struggling with it. I used to think that saying you were agnostic meant you just could not decide for yourself. And yet, I find that it is more about being able to reason it out both ways. In the end, we find we have a foot in both camps and are thinking about these issues a lot. We are between worlds. Again, I don't fit with the Christians, but also do not fall with those who believe there is nothing either. In time, I will figure out where I belong (and I always expected that this journey would be one my boys would have to have for themselves eventually too), but for now I am between.

I know there are other betweens in my life, but these are the biggest ones. The ones that come back to me again and again. The ones Ray and I talk about and regularly pull at the threads of thought attached to them. It's a process, so being between isn't a bad thing...just part of my journey.

Simple Things...

2010-01-27T15:31:00.004-05:00

I've followed my friend Lisa's trail back to Christina at Soul Aperture: the simple things. Christina has challenged us to blog about the simple things that bring joy to our lives. When you link up at her blog, and for everyone who participates, her family will donate $1 to Doctors Without Borders. How could I refuse this challenge, as sweet as it is.

Here are my simple things...

a partially read book and time to wallow in it; small, quiet moments in the car to work out world problems with my husband; the pitter patter of feet in the morning; soft, sweet hugs and sloppy boy kisses; first words and unexpected words; deep understanding and heartfelt sympathy from the small people in my life; holding hands; running; swimming; wind in my hair; deep, warm baths

the smell of my kid's hair after a bath; story time; giggles; tears and then arms lifted high for me; lit up little eyes when I walk in the room

time with my mom; making my parents laugh when I apologize for things I did, now that I see it from the other side

sleep
sleep
more sleep

and yet, the quiet cuddles in the middle of the night when there is no sleep

help from my friends and family; growing understanding; time for thought and people to work thoughts out with; the internet, because old friends are easier to be with there and new friends can be found

love

picnicking in the park; running through sprinklers; little boys wrestling then hugging each other then wrestling again

the look of amazement on my older son's face the first time he held his brother

possibilities

tolerance

Writer's Block

2010-01-26T21:20:00.002-05:00

I have some sleep under my belt, so you'd think that I wouldn't have a problem with this, but I do. And it is not just for my personal blog. Nope. It's all encompassing right now. I just cannot focus and write to save myself. I hate when this happens.

It took me 2 days to write about 450 words for a professional blog I do. I get paid for this, which you'd think would be motivating in and of itself. And they'll pay me to do several a week. At this rate, I might make enough for my car insurance by May.

Worse yet, my primary client wants me to write a bunch of "how to" type stuff. Basically, for thinks like Facebook and Twitter and that sort of thing. About 1000 words each. I looked at it and salivated. This is good stuff in my world. And yet...nada, zip, zilch.

Plus, on Monday I start a technical writing job (it's about 2 weeks long and looks like fun). So I have a few days to pry my brain from my nether regions, so I can do a good job.

You'd think that now that I am sleeping a bit more, my brain would be overflowing.

Not so much.

Night and then Day

2010-01-25T11:44:00.004-05:00

Last night was our fourth night after implementing the sleep reorg. I want to have some crafty way of denoting that, like after ovulation you write 6dpo and time before Christ is BC. I need that. Perhaps BSO and PSO (for before sleep org and post sleep org)? So we are 4PSO. And having thought of that, I do wonder if the newly found sleep is addling my brain. I am just not used to it!

Each night gets a bit better. Two nights ago Liam cried a bit, but was back to sleep in under 10 minutes, with Ray shushing on the hall side of the door. After 3 nights on the floor for me, it was his turn. Lucky guy still got to sleep in our bed that night. Now, that said, before anyone starts cursing out men or thinking my husband got off easy on this, be aware that when Liam was getting up at night, it was Ray who would get up with him for hours on end. I am all but useless for hours on end with no real purpose in the middle of the night. I could do the sleep reorg because I knew why and what I was doing. And also, Tracey kept me on the straight and narrow over instant messaging.

Last night there was nary a peep from the wee man. He woke at 7 am on the dot and let out a feeble "I'm here you know" cry. (Not to work on teaching him to say "I'm awake!" instead of doing the crying thing. Still, it's not the "someone is stabbing me with a hot fork" cry, so I will take even that change.)

We already feel much better around here. And the house is showing it. I cannot believe how far behind I am on everything though. Sleeplessness sucks. And it sucks everything out of a person.

This morning we woke up to rain. It's not cold, so the kids were dressed without their snowpants and Liam got a puddle suit over his boots, coat, mitts, and hat. He was so cute that I laughed and took a couple of pictures.

That's the first time I have said, "Okay smile!" and he did for me.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

2010-01-23T11:44:00.002-05:00

Last night was our second night of reorganizing sleep for Liam. I want to use the typical term of "sleep training", but really I wonder who is being trained? Is it Liam being trained to stay in his bed? Are we being trained to not respond to his every whim? It's going to take me a while to puzzle that one out.

It is working though. The first night Liam and I were awake for 4 very long hours. Yesterday we were both a mess. Last night I hoped for a break through. I expected it to be a couple of hours though.

It wasn't.

He was awake a grand total of about 30 minutes. Split into two wakings, which occurred in under an hour. I woke up with him at 2:25 am and was sleeping soundly again before 3:10 am. I woke up just before 7 am for something for Xander, and Liam stayed asleep until just before 8 am. It feels like a tiny miracle.

My body feels like it belongs to a whole other person. I am still tired, but it is not the extreme tired and the mind fuzz that has infected our days and nights for ages. There is an edge of alertness to it. I am beginning to think about projects to do and places to go. I feel like I could be productive. And I am dreaming about the potential for my life once we are consistently sleeping through the night (and not on an air mattress in the tiny hallway outside his bedroom).

However, I am still nervously waiting for the other shoe to drop. It cannot possibly be this easy. Surely Liam will have one (or two) last stabs at this sleeplessness. Surely. But when? I have no idea which end of the spectrum to expect tonight.

Counting Chickens

2010-01-22T02:58:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting here, counting my chickens before they are hatched. Really, it is more like counting what I am going to do with my renewed energy once Liam learns to sleep properly. For oh, that day is a-coming.

Last week I did a little blog on how to know if you are sleep deprived. It was during a moment of laugh before you cry madness and I was so tired from the previous night I am still amazed that I could access my blogging password in the fuzz that passes for my brain these days.

That was then. We are sleep training now. Liam will give it up and figure this out. (It being the insane night hours he keeps.) And I have a not-so-secret tactic up my sleeve: I've got a coach backing me up. The Sleep Doula is talking me through this via telephone, email and since I am so antiquated that I do not text, a chat client. Awesome! She's been telling me when we are making progress. It's been nice to have that confirmation, though I have so much more confidence after our chat the other day.

And there is progress. He's not just screaming endlessly at me. He goes in fits and spurts. Quiet, then more yelling. The yelling is less heated too. It's like he spends the quiet time trying to figure out if he ought to be yelling about this or give up and sleep. I think he will eventually give up and sleep.

It's a good thing that I don't do this as a profession though, because I would be 500 lbs in 6 months. I am tired and I would like to eat something. Lots of somethings, really.

Which brings me to my counting of chickens...when Liam sleeps, I am going to get myself nice and rested again (can it be? is it possible?) and I am going to start with some of the following:

1. Finally get back into running properly. I think that part of the reason I keep reinjuring myself when running is the lack of proper sleep. How can the body heal and rest if there is no real rest?
2. Eat properly. Yeah, see the comment about wanting to eat in the middle of the night. I do. And I probably will tonight, but when I am rested I can put the effort I want to put into eating properly.
3. With proper rest, I bet I can lose that last 15 lbs from having Liam. Then I have intentions of kicking a bit more weight to the curb. I know I can do this, but it is really hard to do it when you can't follow an exercise regime and you are just too tired to cook anymore. I read somewhere recently that sleeping even an hour or two less a night can impede weight loss efforts. I wanted to write back, "No kidding, huh. Which brainiac figured that one out?" I can barely manage (and am failing at it some weeks) to keep the laundry, dishes, and meals done, so exercise and proper eating...not so much.
4. Speaking of housework, boy do I look forward to not feeling overwhelmed by my tiny house. I want to give it a pat and tell it that it will feel better soon too.
5. Try to make business decisions and provide work quotes when you are propping your eyelids open with matchsticks. I dare you. I can't wait for that to get easier too.
6. I write and edit. The last few weeks have been brutal for sleep and worse for business. I can't wait for the fog to lift.

I have other, less lofty goals too, but for now I am just dreaming about them while talking to my 22 month old kid through the door. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...it's okay to go to sleep, little man. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.