Category Archives: Parenting

I Swear These Answers Were Not Planted

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OK, so first off, please don’t call CAS.  The boys do actually know that they cannot commit GBH with hockey sticks.  Secondly, I swear I did not plant the flattering answers.  They boys sucked up all on their own.  Thirdly, though I asked them these questions independently, when I told them that I was asking them because May 24 is Brother’s Day, they all asked, “Will we get presents?”

Littlest G (5)

What is the most important thing about being a brother?

Being nice.

What is the hardest thing about being a brother?

Being really nice.

What is the best thing about being a brother?

Playing with my brothers.

What’s the best thing your brother(s) taught you?

Big G taught me how to play hockey, and R taught me how to play soccer.

How are you like your brother(s)?

We all love to play hockey.

How are you different?

I’m smaller and I have curly hair.

What is the most annoying thing about your brother(s)?

When they interrupt me.

What is the worst trouble your brother(s) got into?

The worst trouble I got into was when I hit R with a hockey stick.

What is the best advice your brother(s) gave you?

R taught me how to be James Bond, and G taught me how to do a snap shot.

What is your favourite thing to do with your brother(s)?

Play hockey.

What is one of your favourite memories of your brother(s)?

Playing Memory.

What advice would you give to someone who is about to become a brother?

Don’t be mean, don’t annoy your brother, don’t shout.  If they do something you don’t like, say “stop” three times, then get a teacher or a grown up.  Have fun.  Play with him a lot, take care of him, and give him lots of toys and stuff.

285R (nearly 8)

What is the most important thing about being a brother?

Having fun.

What is the hardest thing about being a brother?

Not arguing.

What is the best thing about being a brother?

Having family time with my brothers.

What’s the best thing your brother(s) taught you?

Big G taught me how to play hockey when I was 3.

How are you like your brother(s)?

We all like to play hockey, baseball and soccer.  We are all boys.

How are you different?

Big G thinks he’s the best, but Mom and Dad are the best.  Actually, Mom you are the best when we are snuggled up reading together, and Dad’s the best when we are playing at the park.

What is the most annoying thing about your brother(s)?

Ugh!  When they keep doing the same thing over and over and over again.

What is the worst trouble your brother(s) got into?

Big G broke a window with a tennis ball, and Little G snuck candy into bed.

What is the best advice your brother(s) gave you?

Big G taught me how to raise the puck.

What is your favourite thing to do with your brother(s)?

Play hockey, soccer and baseball.

What is one of your favourite memories of your brother(s)?

Playing on the beach at the cottage and splashing in the water and digging in the mud and pretending to be characters from a game.

What advice would you give to someone who is about to become a brother?

Be kind, let him do what he wants sometimes, give him lots of hugs.

Big G (nearly 12)

What is the most important thing about being a brother?

Helping your little brothers.

What is the hardest thing about being a brother?

When they don’t respect me.

What is the best thing about being a brother?

Your little brothers look up to you and look to you as a role model and even though they don’t always show it, they respect you.

What’s the best thing your brother(s) taught you?

That being an older brother is harder than it looks.

How are you like your brother(s)?

We are all ticklish.  We all share the same amazing mother and father.

How are you different?

I am so much more awesome.  (See R’s response above!)

What is the most annoying thing about your brother(s)?

When they take my stuff and get into my space.

What is the worst trouble your brother(s) got into?

When R and I played with matches.

What is the best advice your brother(s) gave you?

I dunno.

What is your favourite thing to do with your brother(s)?

Play hockey.

What is one of your favourite memories of your brother(s)?

When G was born and R was the first to hold him, I remember the look of pride on R’s face.

What advice would you give to someone who is about to become a brother?

Make your decisions wisely; your brothers look up to you.

Why It Takes So Long

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045I often wonder why it takes so long.  Why can’t I make that telephone call, or pay that bill, or sweep up that mess?  Like almost all other mothers I know (and no doubt the people around them), I wonder about this.

I’ve been busier than usual lately, throwing a lot of heart and soul into a fundraising effort to create an outdoor classroom for my kids’ school (thank you so much for the support yesterday – we raised 15% of our goal in less than 24 hours, and due to an internal delay, we haven’t even promoted it within the school yet!  The campaign runs for 40 days, if you want to check back in).

It means things are backed up here.  No less than all of the speaking members in my family asked me if there are any clothes to wear?  (They’ll be directed to a hill (unfolded clean laundry) and a mountain (dirty laundry) downstairs in the laundry area.)  I also haven’t been cooking much, and because we don’t buy much prepared food, not cooking is a problem because it leads to not eating.

So this morning I thought I would make yogurt.  Halfway through the process I decided to jot down notes, in a research mode, to record how it went.  Here they are:

- Look for pot to boil the milk.

-  Reach for the right pot and see blackened inch of food burnt on its base.  Remember that the night before, I tried to make a bean soup for my son’s school lunch and for general eating, but was working on the fundraising campaign and forgot about it until the burnt smell reached me upstairs.

- Try to scrape burnt food out of the pot.  Am unsuccessful.  Attract my four-year old, who tries to help.  Leave him working on pot to check computer upstairs about how to clean pot with vinegar and baking soda.

- Come back downstairs to find husband scolding son because bits of burnt residue was falling out of the pot and on floor.  Advocate (a.k.a. argue with husband)  on behalf of son.

- Put one cup of water plus one cup of vinegar in pot.  Place on stove to boil as instructed by recipe.

- Return to idea of making yogurt.  Look for another pot.  Find all pots in use.

- Decide on next best pot candidate, which is full of the oatmeal I made for breakfast.  Search for re-usable container to store oatmeal, but none in  cupboard or sink.

- Open the dishwasher to look for container.  See that dishwasher was not run the night before.  Notice food debris on door and bottom of dishwasher.  Remember that dishwasher repairman warned us such debris would burn out dishwasher engine again if we didn’t properly scrape.  Regret silently that husband does not properly scrape dishes.  Clear out food debris from dishwasher while baby toddles to cupboard under sink to get dishwashing detergent.  Negotiate with him to put it back.

- Recall that I am trying to make yogurt.  Look for pot, see that it is still full of oatmeal.  Resume search for re-usable container.  Look again in cupboard and sink where there are still no containers.

- Open fridge to find possible container candidate in fridge.  Find one containing miso noodle soup and transfer it to bowl.  Wash container.

- Hear screams from porch where child is playing UNO with his dad.  Provide comfort and guidance.

- Re-enter house, where baby is urgently calling for bowl of miso soup.  Lift him into high chair, and feed him all of the soup.

- Check burnt pot which has been simmering on the stove.  Remove from stove.  Scrape burnt food easily off of bottom, without even adding baking soda as directed by recipe.   Delight in my domestic prowess, and show pot to son.  Look at me!

- Remember that I am trying to make yogurt.

My notes end there.  But when I recall the day, a few facts stand out, like after my husband left for work mid-morning, I was on my own for almost 12 hours with one to three children in tow, plus the baby inexplicably (and painfully) did not take a proper nap.  I fell asleep putting the kids to sleep, and when I woke up, I cleaned up the kitchen and living areas (passably, not well).  The laundry is still in two heaps in the basement, the only difference that the mountain of dirty clothes would be bigger if had I the time or energy to pick up the dirty clothes on the floor.  Combined with my notes from the morning, it does give insight into why it takes so long, no?

Also:  I feel victorious to tell you that at 11:50pm, when all was quiet, I did make the yogurt.  We’ll have it for breakfast.

Seeds Do Grow

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Look, look!  These are my tomato starts!  Aren’t they magnificent?

They’d be a lot more magnificent if it were April 9 instead of May 9.  I got my seeds nice and early this year, and was all excited to plant them nice and early too.  But I was too early, so I needed to wait a couple of weeks.

A couple of weeks arrived, but by then the pace of life had shifted, so it wasn’t quite as easy to plant as I’d hoped.  Also the grow lights downstairs weren’t where they were supposed to be, and I’d have to look for them.

I did have some pressing things to do, but neither of these things would have been obstacles if I’d made the planting a priority.  I just didn’t.  I think it was easier to do the things I’m a bit more confident about than planting.  It’s not natural to me yet – I’ve only been planting, a little here and there, for a couple of years.  I’m still a newbie.  Sometimes I even feel a little suspicious of the seeds.  They require some work to plant, and how do I really know they’re going to grow?

I thought about this a week or so ago when I realized how late I was in starting my seedlings.  Lush, big ones are available everywhere now, and we may well have to buy some this year.  I decided to plant my own anyway, lateness and all:  kale, chard, basil, coriander, and cucumber.  I wanted to practice planting, to get more comfortable, to get my hands, as they say, dirty.

But also I wanted to practice a little humility, and try to do something even when I’m not very good at it or when my efforts aren’t going to be so successful.  It’s something I want to learn to do more now that I have kids.  If I’m going to nudge my boys to try new things, which often feel uncomfortable at first (and I do sometimes so nudge), then I want to be able to do the same myself.  (Within reason.)

I may not get tomatoes until August.  But I am discovering that seeds really do grow.

The Morning Message

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Mornings are notoriously hectic for most families.  Parents are rushing out the door to work, children are being shuffled to school and there is a general sense of urgency for most of us.  I say most of us, because I know that there are some families who have found a way to find calm in the midst of the morning rush.

We are not that family.  Breakfast is like a short order diner.  Clothing peppers the counters and back-packs lay on the floor in various states of packed.

The boys have a lot of jobs to do in the morning.  Before they come the stairs they must complete T.B.C.

T=  teeth (brush them!)

B = bed (make it!)

C = clothes (put them on!)

While their father and I whip up breakfast, the older two unload the dishwasher and are generally underfoot until one of us, shoos them to the table and out of our way.

In an effort to mitigate some of the morning madness, I write the boys a morning message.  The message is off to the side, so they are out of the way of the kitchen but close by so that I can listen with one ear as they read.

The message has proven successful.  The boys stay out of the kitchen and occupied while learning about the goings-on of the day.  A draw-back is that it is yet another thing to check off the list before you head upstairs to bed at night, but I see the boys developing their independence and confidence so consider it worth it.  It may take a reminder here and there but I have absolved myself from prepping for their activities.

A few of my friends do this with dry-erase boards or old-fashioned paper and pen but I like to do mine on the computer.  Either way, the kids find it empowering (and they get to practice their reading!) and organize themselves for the rest of the day.

Here’s an example of the morning message:

Good Morning, Boys!

Today is Tuesday, March 3.

The weather is calling for rain.  What will you wear to school?

David, today you have a lunch date with your friend Brian.  After school is your art class.  I wonder what you will make today?

Kyle, after lunch your friend Miller is coming over to play.  What do you have planned?  After dinner you have swimming lessons.  Make sure your bag is packed.

Today is garbage day, so don’t forget to bring in the bins!

Have a great day.

I love you!

Mom

 

Do you write a morning message?  How do you cope with the morning hustle and bustle? 

 

Books to Make a Mother Laugh

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Has the crazy advertising started in your neck of the woods?  Mother’s Day is coming.  If you are looking for some suggestions for humourous gifts for the mothers in your lives, or a Mother’s Day treat for yourself, here is a handful of books that made me laugh.

Shitty Mom: The Parenting Guide for the Rest of Us

by Laurie Kilmartin, Karen Moline, Alicia Ybarbo & Mary Ann Zoellner

New York: Abrams, 2012.

A hilarious stand-up routine of a book written by 4 mothers!  (A different four!)  Three of the four mothers who wrote this book also write for television (the fourth writes books), and it shows in the timing of their humour.  Better yet, they can say stuff here that you can’t say on tv, and this is a wildly inappropriate parenting ”guide.”  Included are chapters on how to send a sick kid to daycare, how to avoid having a child who will want to do team sports (read, make you drive them to said sports), and how to keep texting and sipping your latte while other mothers parent your children on the playground.  Totally tongue in cheek, it also hits many of the parenting sore spots and makes you smile wryly at the mess you are in.  This was a Valentine’s Day gift from my beloved, and it was a perfect antidote to the shelf full of advice books that take themselves too seriously.

hockeyYou Might be a Crazy Dedicated Hockey Mom If…

Jason Howell

Toronto: Magenta, 2012.

Another Valentine’s gift from my husband, one that accurately portrays that species of hockey mom who, while she does not scream advice from the bleachers, is nevertheless capable of deafening other spectators with her cheers.  Not that I know anyone like that.  (There’s one in blue, for dads, too.)

The Kid Dictionary

by Eric Ruhalter

A hilarious dictionary of words made up by the author in order to fill the void of parenting situations that call for a precise word.  One from of one of our readers who left a comment on my earlier review of the book: sneezoning: (n) what is added when your child sneezes on his or her food.  See my earlier review here.

The Birds and the Bees and the Bulls

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When he was a young lad, my husband was in the car with his dad on a long drive.  They drove past a field in which a bull and a cow were getting it on.  Then the uncomfortable silence in the car began.  My husband sank lower and lower in his seat as his dad kept looking over, taking a breath, clearing his throat, and then not speaking.  Finally, his dad said, “Do you know what those animals were doing?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good.”

And there ended the sex talk.

We’d like our boys to be somewhat more fully apprised of the facts about the birds and the bees (and the bulls).  We’d also like never to have those long stretches of uncomfortable silences.  We want them to feel like they can ask or say anything, and so, from a very early age we’ve just given everything a proper name and kept the doors of communication open.  No question is ever rebuffed.  I never used this advice when it came to sleep training, but in terms of sex, I firmly believe that you should “Begin as you mean to go on.”

normalA penis is a penis because when you are 13, do don’t want to call that part of your body a “pee-pee” anymore and you need a word that is and has always been comfortable.  Erections are normal and natural, and are to be enjoyed in private.  We always asked permission before washing their private bits in the bath, and they know that permission must always be asked for and granted.

From day 1, we have always referred to the boys’ future partners as him or her.  I never want there to be an awkward coming out moment for any of them, or for them to ever feel like their love for a man would be anything to reveal to us.  We’ve never assumed those partnerships would be marriages, necessarily, and Family comes in all shapes and sizes.

They know the difference between a tummy and a uterus.  They know the difference between procreation and recreational sex.

I’ve even begun a discussion about the exploitative nature of most pornography with my eldest.  It was theoretical, but I figure I’m laying some ground work.  File it under media studies.

Two books on our bookshelves have helped when the boys have anatomical questions.  Boys and Girls and Body Science by Meg Hickling is good for younger children who are curious about where babies come from.  I find it a bit earnest, but it gets the job done by presenting all the information as good science. body

It’s Perfectly Normal is another classic, and I like it for the variety of body shapes it depicts.  The illustrations are all cartoon-like, but frank.  I think there is probably something more up to date out there, but I have not felt the need to go looking.  (Suggestions welcome, though.)

Really, the books are only starting points for quick questions or long discussions.  These days, we get a lot of questions about the definition of slang words.  They ask, I answer.  (When I can.  Sometimes I need to look things up.  Sometimes those things surprise me.)

10 Things I Miss About Life Before Kids (Or Maybe Nine)

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10.  My breasts.  Victoria Secret would never have come knocking, but I liked them.

9.  Jumping on trampolines.  Okay, I never did that much of this, but I miss taking for granted that my internal machinery could handle this.  I tried joining my son on a trampoline after having two kids, and it was not. a. good. idea.

8.  Saying “Sure, I’d love to go for a drink after work.”  The unbridled freedom of it.

7.  Actually drinking said drink.  I’m on a self-imposed abstinence from alcohol while pregnant and nursing, which means I have been bone dry for five years.  Want to come over and watch me crawl under the table after my first two post-children glasses of wine?

6.  The invisible protective layer that Nathalie once commented about.  The one that made it possible to listen to the news and country songs with a dry eye.

5.  Sleep, and being the boss over my sleep, even if I got too little.  Almost too obvious to mention, but too mammoth not to.

4.  Not being a primary role model to anyone.  Related:  being able to swear without essentially offering a “how to” tutorial to little ears.

3.  Seeing half an hour as 30 minutes, rather than as a significant opportunity.

2.  Looking at random children, without feeling somehow invested in each one.

1.  Not so very much, if I am honest.  Life before kids wasn’t such a cakewalk as I recall, it just had other challenges.  And being a mother (provided I am not on my knees begging for mercy) is the best gig in town.

10 Things We Miss About Life Before Kids

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Self-explanatory, isn’t it, that title?  This theme has been peppering the blogosphere lately, and we thought we’d join the online party.

At 4Mothers, we write pretty much all the time about our kids.  This week, we thought we’d write about ourselves before our kids (although perversely, how we can’t even do this without the whole discussion being  informed by our post-children selves…).

What do you miss about your fancy-free non-parent self?  Tell us this week as you hear us tell you.

4Mothers is also delighted to announce that this month’s guest writer is Corinne Simonyi, a Toronto mother of two young children.  Corinne has years of experience writing for many of Toronto’s foremost publications including Neighbour From Hell! that was published in 2Life magazine.

Blissful Ignorance about Ear Wax: 10 Things I Miss about Life Before Kids

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10.  Run of the mill self-doubt (as opposed to the sometimes paralyzing second-guessing that can come with the parenting life.)

9.  Travelling with one piece of carry-on luggage.

8.  Not feeding people three, four, five times a day.

7.  Leaving the house without snacks.   Or battles over emptying bladders.

6.  Not thinking about other people’s bladders.

5.  Not monitoring other people’s ear wax and fingernails.

4.  Getting through an entire day week month without raising my voice.

3.  Getting through an entire week month year without hearing rap music.

2.  Getting through an entire month year lifetime without wiping another person’s bottom.

1.  Doing laundry just once a week.

Hookey or Home?

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055There were clues.  The first was that my six year old didn’t eat breakfast:  no hot cereal and no eggs.  When asked why, he said he was tired.  The second and third clues were screams of anguish over small things, small enough that I can’t remember them just a day later.  And on the way to the car, my son yelled to his father who would be driving him that he didn’t want to go to school!  No!  No school!

Guess what we did?

I told his father to leave our son at home, and go forth with other errands.   And when my husband without a word did just that, my son let out more screams:  Actually I want to go to school!  I changed my mind!  I want to go!  Daddy!  Daddy!!  Then he collapsed in a heap on the deck.  It didn’t seem like a good time to talk, so I went back into the house.

I peeked out the window to check on my boy a few minutes later.  He was still sitting, but had found a stick and was silently drawing with it on the wooden boards of our deck.

A few minutes after that he came into the house.  Different, calm.  He saw me and smiled.  ”What are we going to do today, Mommy?”

A few years back, I read Simplicity Parenting:  Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids  by Kim John Payne.  As I recall, I didn’t read quite to the end, but his main message (see subtitle above) resonated with me.  I remember him likening the remedy for a child who is out of sorts, withdrawn, or unusually moody to the remedy for a physically sick child.  And that’s to slow everything right down, and rest.

I don’t know why I was certain that this is what my son needed yesterday, but I was.  We had not been noticeably more busy than usual, with the exception of a new basketball practice, and he had been sleeping enough and well.  He has been ravenous lately, so maybe he needed some respite from all the growing his body is doing.  I’m not sure.  But I do know that the boy who always eats a good breakfast and who looks forward to school and who was falling on the back deck was not himself yesterday, and I was sure that some downtime was the remedy.

We ended up ditching school for the whole day, and reading club after that.  He came along for the ride when I dropped his brother off for a half day of afternoon kindergarten, and asked to get out to say hello to his brother’s teacher (and his former kindergarten teacher) “because he doesn’t get a chance to talk to her”.  He popped out, said hello, showed her a rock he had in his pocket, and got back into the car.  I asked if he wanted to go to school in the afternoon, although I knew the answer.  ”No,” he said.

What did he do?  I just followed his lead.  First, he asked to make a pillow for a beloved stuffed friend.  He chose the felt rectangles, the embroidery floss, and practiced the running stitch that he’s learned recently at school.  I couldn’t find my bag of stuffing for the pillow, so he used small pieces of scrap fleece to stuff the pillow.

Turns out the present of the pillow was for the stuffie’s birthday (just a day away!), so he needed to make a cake.  He often makes food on his own in the kitchen, and yesterday he made a cake with no recipe or input for me, following only his own sense of what should go in a cake (we bake and cook a lot together, so he has a sense of these things).

While I was putting his baby brother down for his afternoon nap, I fell into a deep sleep, not realizing how tired I was.  I tried to wake myself up from the nap, but I couldn’t will my eyes to open.  Finally, after an hour and a half, I struggled out of sleep to check in on my older son, thinking he might be disappointed at losing time alone with me.  I found him in the bathroom, washing something.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Fine!” he replied.

“What have you been doing?” I asked.

“I worked on my Lego fire truck, and now I’m washing my rocks.  They need to be washed every week.”

And the day went on like that:  pleasant, easy.

When he saw me this morning, he said, “I feel better today.  I want to go to school.”  And he did.

When he came home, he made the icing for his stuffie’s cake, and decorated it with sugar he coloured with food dyes.  We sang a warm happy birthday to our stuffed animal friend, and ate cake.  It was nice to round off the doings of the previous day with this little celebration.

I’m not worried that I’m instilling bad habits or a slack attitude in letting my son stay home yesterday.  I think many of us, no matter how old we are, can benefit from a well-timed day of downtime, after which we go back to our routines refreshed and rested.  Sometimes we can’t do this, but sometimes we can, and I’m glad we did it yesterday.  Some people call it hookey.  I call it home.