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Published February 24, 2010 @ 08:59 in School
Did you think that this was a post about the Olympics?
Nope.
This is our record so far this week of getting Son One to school on time. Yep. That bad.
As I sit here drinking my coffee at 9:00 am, Husband is rushing Son One off to school, the bell is ringing and O Canada is starting. Monday I took him, and got stuck in the hallway with all of the late kids during the anthem, prayer and announcements.
Son One starts school at 9:00 am. Son Two is in the afternoon, but he could wake up and make it to school on time. Daughter is usually the first one up. Son One loves his sleep, though he fights it at night. In the mornings, he doesn't want to leave his warm bed.
This morning, we got him out of bed at 8:47. Really.
For the record, I believe that there are two types of people in this world. Those who are on time, and those who feel that they are more important than anyone else and can therefor show up as late as they want.
Before I met Husband, I was ALWAYS in category one. I actually couldn't even conceive of how people could be late. Now, 15 years and three children later, I am always running in the door as it is about to close.
Yet another way having children changes us.
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Happy Belated Valentine's Day!
Published February 16, 2010 @ 10:13 in Being Mommy
This year I missed Valentine's Day. Almost completely.
The boys wrote the Valentine's cards, one for every classmate, and handed them out on Friday alone with a mini-chocolate heart.
I warned Husband on Saturday that I wasn't prepared for Valentine's day. Nada. No card. No chocolates. No gift.
He went out on Sunday morning, as is his MO, and came home with red roses and a card.
Still - I had nothing!
I thought about cooking him a nice roast for dinner, and then I caught Daughter's stomach bug and instead spent the ENTIRE DAY in bed with many trips to pray to the porcelain god.
I am pretty sure that it was my worst Valentine's Day ever. At least I am love.
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Enjoying the opening ceremonies - NOT!
Published February 13, 2010 @ 11:25 in Amazing Kids
I wanted, really wanted, to be able to say how much I enjoyed the Olympic Games opening ceremonies in Vancouver last night, but I can't.
I missed all of the wonderful things that happened on the highlight reel. Daughter was throwing up, and Husband was stuck at work.
Two baths were required at key moments in the ceremonies because she refused to have her hair pulled back, and vomit loves her blond locks.
Sheets were changed (thanks Mom!) Clothes were changed. Two loads of laundry were done.
Daughter refused gravol.
She insisted on sleeping naked. At least that decision helped to cut down on laundry.
Today she woke up and says that she is all better.
Unfortunately, never again in my lifetime will I get to watch the opening ceremonies live from Vancouver.
The good news is that Daughter is all better.
The bad news is that I missed the Great One and kd Lang.
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Hockey Equipment Stinks!
Published February 10, 2010 @ 00:31 in Being Mommy
I just got home from hockey. I emptied my hockey bag of all of my equipment and spread it out all over the living room to "air it out" as my Husband has told me to do on many occasions.
Here's the thing - IT DOESN'T WORK!!!
My equipment is starting to get that gross locker room jock smell. I wash my socks, undershirt, bra and "jill" regularly, but it is the equipment that smells. You know, if women had designed hockey equipment, you could throw it into the washing machine.
My kids equipment smells. I've been told that kids don't start to stink until puberty. What a lie! If they sweat in hockey equipment, they smell (Son One actually came home last week really upset because one father / son in the locker room had commented on his scent. I told him that he must just be working that much harder to sweat more!)
I don't know what to do. My equipment was all brand new less than a year ago, so I can't really justify getting new stuff (Husband would actually leave me if I got new equipment because of a smell). I shower, wear deodorant, wash the inside clothes. "Air it out" as per Husband's expert advice. Still, I stink. (Honestly, I am afraid to venture into the garage. If mine smells this bad after a year, what would Husband's be like? I've known the man 16 years, I he hasn't bought any new equipment.)
Daughter tried Fabreeze on the equipment once when she thought it was smelling up the living room. Then, it just stunk and had a strong scent of lavender or cotton blossoms or something.
I am really starting to love hockey, but if I can't figure out this smelly issue, I may have to switch to knitting or scrapbooking or something.
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I could eat you up!
Published February 9, 2010 @ 07:59 in Being Mommy
I could eat my children. Easily.
When I was a teenager and babysitting, I often read Where the Wild Things Are, and when I read the line, "We'll eat you up we love you so!" I thought it was just a silly children's book.
Then, I had son one, and I bought a copy. I understood completely the compulsion to consume something (someone) that you loved so much! I used to nibble on his little toes; take pretend bites from his cheeks; and, steal his nose for a snack. There is a scene from "Friends" where Monica comments on little Emma's feet, and she could just put them into a pita and eat them up. I can relate.
When the kids were younger, after they had fallen asleep I would go and kiss them goodnight. They looked so peaceful! I couldn't resist a little bit of their baby-back ribs, or their chicken legs. I often wondered if they had nightmares where they were being consumed by a giant T-Rex.
Now, when I say eat my children, I don't mean in that gross "Cape Fear" way when Robert Deniro bit a chunk from that woman's cheek and spit it against the wall. That scene still haunts me.
I mean I could eat them up as if they were made of thousands and millions of delicious pieces of candy coated chocolate. Or cookies. Or pastries. Something scrumptious and sweet.
There are lots of theories about why Mommy Mammals sometimes eat their young (rabbits, mice, etc.) I've heard that the Mommies may be missing something in their diet, or scarcity of resources, illness, or death in the litter and they bite to try to revive them. Perhaps this is all true, or perhaps, like me, they just love their little ones so much! And maybe, just maybe, they don't have the self control we humans are capable of...
"We'll eat you up we love you so!"
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chiquita hija
Published February 7, 2010 @ 15:10 in
Hola! Soy Dora.
No, I don't speak Spanish. No one in our family is Spanish. However, I am finding that my daughter is speaking more and more Spanish lately. Thanks to Dora and Diego, she no longer says, "please" or "thank you!" but "por favor" and "gracias!" To open doors she says to me, "say Abre!"
It is incredibly cute of her, and pretty funny coming from a pale, blue-eyed, white blond. I catch her counting, and if the total is five or less, she always counts in Spanish. Do these Dora and Diego cartoon producers at Nickelodeon have any idea of their influence?
I think it is time we come up with a Canadian French cartoon so that our children can learn our other National Language (yes, I know that French is a dying language and that Spanish really will serve her better in the long run). How about a little girl named Minue? or Josephine? She'll have blue eyes and straight light brown hair, and a little poodle named Naf-Naf. Josephine will eat queues de castor, and visit all of our great Canadian tourist attractions like La Tour CN and mail postcards back to her friends.
Hmm... this could really fly. And children all of over this great country of ours won't start JK saying, "Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco!"
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Teaching Sportsmanship
Published February 7, 2010 @ 09:38 in Kids Activities
Son One is in a hockey tournament this weekend. It is a "Select" tournament, so fairly competitive. I was checking out the results on line last night, and felt sick. I couldn't sleep I was so upset. These are a bunch of seven-year-olds, and I really want to know what these coaches are teaching these kids about a love of the game.
Let me explain.
In our division in the tournament, there was an error with a team. They are supposed to be select teams born in 2002, however, a team got put in out division which was born in 2003-2004. Anyone involved in hockey in south western Ontario knows that titles of ages are confusing. We call our kids minor Novice, but in this tournament they are Tykes. Some areas have Mites and Tykes, some have Tykes then Minor Novice. You can see how the mix-up could have occurred.
Yesterday morning we woke at the crack of dawn to drive almost an hour for a game. When we got there, we learned that our opponents were five and six year-olds (we have about four kids on our team who have already turned eight). The coaches were in a quandary as to what to do. Tell our kids to go easy, and we risk not being able to ramp up for the next game. Move them around? Technically, we needed the win to continue in the tournament. However, as our coach so eloquently stated, "we don't need to win a tournament at the expense of some kids starting to hate hockey."
Instead, our coaches instructed the kids that they had to pass at least five times before they were allowed to shoot. I am sure that he also told most of our forwards that they were not allowed to shoot at all.
As parents, we sat in the stands, cheering every save by the opposition goalie, and staring at our hands in our laps sheepishly when our kids scored. After the first three goals, we prayed that they wouldn't score anymore.
After the game, I was impressed by our kids in the change room. They were talking about how fast some of the younger kids were, "I could barely catch number 4 on his breakaway!" How great the goalie was, "did you see him save, shot? He went like this!" (some sort of half dressed demonstration of goalie positioning) and even felt sorry for number 9, who had a ricochet off of his skate score in his own net. Number 9 was a five year old kid, probably less than 40 pounds, but he stood his ground against our kids and had an amazing poke check. Number 2 - a big strong defense - what a shot!
I was so impressed by our opposition. They stayed in the game right until the last buzzer, playing their hardest. I've seen eight-year-olds come to the bench in tears because they were scored on. These kids showed heart, grit and determination, and grace in defeat.
Later, I learned that their coach had asked our coach before the game to ask us, the parents, to tone down our celebrations. Apparently, the team that they had played the day before had horns and cheered and shouted for everyone one of the 16 goals they scored. Our coach said, "I don't need to do that." Thanks coach, for thinking so much of us parents that you knew we would put the kids first, hockey second.
When looking at the scores from other games, I was disgusted by other teams. These kids went out after us and were beat 22-1. 22 Goals!!! There was also another team in the tournament who lost 16-1, 13-0, 13-0. 42 goals against!
Who are these coaches who are teaching the kids to keep scoring when they are already killing their opposition? Not enough to beat them, you need to humiliate them too? These are seven-year-olds! It reminded my of the Junior Team Canada 16-0 nothing Boxing Day game this yea (which we stopped watching after the first period). Really, with role models like these...
I am so glad that our coach decided that the lesson yesterday wasn't about seeing how many points we could possibly rack up, but instead a deep respect and appreciate for your opponents, and a love of the game. Sport should be about building character, but now I see why it gets such a bad rep.
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