Mama Mode & Monopoly

Tags

children, family, games, life lessons

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. In the first round, I had purchased a number of key properties, including Boardwalk. A few more rounds and I owned 3 railroads, both Get Out of Jail Free cards, and both utilities. A few more rounds after that, I added Park Place and completed 2 more sets. With the exception of the community chest and one railroad, I owned the entire left side of the board. I was rolling in dough with 15 properties to my name, while Little Guy had a mere 6 and a small wad of cash, mostly pink and white. I could hear the frustration in his voice, the half-hearted attempt at lightheartedness, and my Mama Mode kicked in. In the end, it was my fatal flaw. I didn’t purchase the red property he needed to complete his set. “Thanks Mom”, he sighed. It had seemed so genuine.

And then he went in for the kill.

http://www.pinterest.com

Every parent hopes their kids gain some wisdom from our patient explanations (while our blood pressure secretly skyrockets), and our oft long-winded anecdotal life lessons. We teach them to play fair, take turns, and consider the other person. But we also don’t want them to be doormats. We want them to learn to stand up for themselves, and to participate in healthy competition. Winning and losing builds character. Apparently somewhere along the way, Little Guy’s character learned to like winning.

There was nothing particularly untoward in his behaviour, save a few smart-alecky remarks as his eyes sparkled and he licked his lips with glee…or perhaps I was just imagining that. But there were things he did that I hope he wouldn’t do in real life. He took scary chances. We all play it too safe sometimes and we regret not taking a risk (another game I lost this week). But as soon as he obtained cash, he invested it in houses and hotels. He held nothing back, and at least once, went into debt. To me – Mrs. I-own-the-best-properties! And I let him because, well…Mama mode! Even after he bought the property I needed to finish a set and yes, I reminded him how I had been gracious in not buying the property he needed. He actually took delight in exploiting my grand gesture. Which makes me start to wonder what did he learn from me…?

The issue really isn’t that he built a row of hotels on the property I graciously didn’t buy and he bankrupted me, while I did the responsible things like not going to jail, and modestly investing in and improving those lots with affordable housing and making sure I had money to cover my debts. It’s an issue, but not the central one. (I lost everything!)

The issue is this – When did my kids get better at everything than me (leaving me feeling like a washed up loser who is ready to sit in a senior centre and weave baskets while singing Kum Ba Ya)?

I have come to expect that they will excel at activities that require strength and endurance, like cartwheels or running long distances without losing their breath and quite possibly, their lunch. I can almost accept that their eye-hand coordination means they will excel at first person video games, or they can catch a ball without looking like a total spazz…while missing it. Of course that’s going to happen. But I have unknowingly believed that my 45 years of life experience would garner some respect and some advantage in, let’s say, intellectual aspirations. Managing money? Glory be, yes! I’ve had to balance a cheque book, pay student loans, refinance a mortgage, and a bunch of other incredibly boring adulting stuff involving math and coin.

I was mistaken. Horribly mistaken.

Still, my Mama Mode kicked in and I made a decision, one that ended in my tears, instead of Little Guy’s tears. My hope has always been that my boys would grow into caring, confident, independent men, and I see their strength and drive, and ability to do more than one push-up at a time, as something to celebrate, even as I start to tune my vocal cords for kum ba ya. So while I may have lost at Monopoly this week (and Risk), in a frustrating and catastrophic manner, maybe I haven’t really lost at all.

Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands. – Anne Frank

Happy Weekend!

 

War Stories

Tags

"I have failed as a mother", children, family, motherhood

This past week, I spent time with a group of women, sharing the “story” of our child(ren)’s birth(s). Hubby has often asked, why do women insist on sharing these  horror stories? He thinks it’s cruel to terrify new moms-to-be (which is why I don’t share all the details and try to focus on the happy ending) and makes kids feel terrible about putting their moms through so much (again, which is why I don’t share all the details and try to focus on the happy ending)!

It’s a good question, and here’s my answer: Our birth stories are our war stories.

The desire to nurture has been ingrained in us since creation. Even way, way back  in the Old Testament, there have been strong women but few female warriors. Those brave women had important parts to play in their time, but most didn’t have grand adventures and exciting stories to swap with each other, or share with their children. No one was interested in remembering that one time they kept the home fires burning while Hubby rode off to war!

As little girls, my friends and I had 3 milestones for our Barbies: Fall in love, Get Married. Have Babies. Sometimes there was a career in there too. And lots of parties. We weren’t caught up in gender stereotypes or interested in breaking glass ceilings. We knew we could do anything we wanted and so could our Barbies, and our Barbies wanted to have a family.  For many women, having a family is a milestone in life. Elizabeth Stone said “Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ” It’s the day we enlisted in an “army”, to join the ranks of the women who have gone before us. We are prepared to sacrifice and to fight on behalf of our offspring.  Sharing war stories bonds us as moms. We instantly become part of a world-wide community that bridges language and culture in an extraordinary way.

Our kids are living, breathing miracles of complexity far beyond anything we can imagine. They are also God’s way of reminding us that there is hope for the future. And who doesn’t need a little hope? I survived that battle; I can survive the others.

Do not mistake her gentle and quiet spirit for weakness.
She is a mighty warrior princess, Super-Mom.

We re-tell them because it was the most terrifying, most painful, most exhilarating experience of our lives. Paragliding in the Alps, swimming with sharks, or in my case, running in Mud Hero, are pretty pale in comparison to the physical, emotional and psychological effort it took to bring that child into the world and take its first breath. Sharing our story gives us a sense that we had a part to play in a greater plan, beyond the home fires and the battle lines.

As much as the birth of a baby is a defining moment in any person’s life, giving birth is something uniquely female. While you supported us by staring at the floor (or in some cases, kissing it), willing with us for a safe end and a grand beginning, we still had to do this thing alone. It is our crowning achievement, and one of the grandest highlight our human hearts will ever experience in life’s journey.

And finally, it makes me think about my own mother, and grandmothers, and all the women who came before me. As a child I loved hearing Mom tell her story, because it entwined with my story. She loved me so much and willingly went through all that for me, even before she held me in her arms or saw me take my first breath.

Her heart became my heart. Her legacy became my legacy. I love being a Mom. Someday, no one will remember that my favourite colour was pink or that I loved the smell of moist earth after the rain. I will become a name that appears in a long list of other names – Jenn, mother to Big Guy and Little Guy, Wife to Hubby. So if another Mom wants to swap war stories about the day our babies were born, then I’m in!

Happy Mother’s Day!

Buyer Beware!

Tags

children, fear, humour, spider

Last night, Little Guy walked into my bedroom and handed me my husband’s steel-toed shoe, and said “you can have the honours”. The honours of what? Apparently there was (and I quote) “a BIG black spider in the bathroom”.

That would explain why he closed the bathroom door on his way out, because spiders can’t work doorknobs. (He didn’t think about the 0.5″ gap under the door).

As the parent, I could only think of three options. I could call Hubby to do the dirty deed, but risk that he would say “no”. I could block that 0.5″ gap and set the entire bathroom on fire, but we only have one bathroom. It’s ugly but it’s all we’ve got! Or I could do the mature thing, set the example and kill the spider…with Hubby’s shoe.

I chose the mature option. I boldly walked into that bathroom, with Little Guy hovering at my heels, shoe at the ready. But there was no spider to be seen. I scoured the walls around the toilet (it’s last resting place). I (reluctantly) kicked the garbage can and package of t.p. away from the wall. I stood on my head to see behind the toilet. No BIG black spider.

“No, Mom. It was on the toilet. I finished going and put down the lid, and it had been on the lid the whole time”.

“This toilet?”  The one I’ve just been rubbing my body up against as I scanned the floor tiles.

Ew!

Another bathroom assassin.

There are a number of ways to kill (or migrate) spiders. Hello Giggles lists 11 ways.  Wikihow uses pictures. But the key component to killing a spider…is the spider! And our BIG black spider was gone!

Rule #1 – Always check your surroundings. Assume they are everywhere.

Now Little Guy will never forget Rule #2– when you see a spider, do not break eye contact. Feel free to call for backup, as loud as necessary. Because the moment you look away, they will run away.

We have a BIG black spider living somewhere in our home. So I’m going to suggest we spend the weekend in a hotel (I’m packing nothing), and immediately put our house on the market. Buyer beware!

Happy Weekend!

Worth Fighting For

Tags

children, faith

Friday morning, on the way to school, the radio announcer read the names and ages of the victims of Florida’s recent high school shooting. A small voice asked from the backseat, “what’s he doing?” so I explained. It led to a deeper conversation, and in less than 5 minutes we covered how crazy our world is becoming, why and how to exercise faith, and finally, how much do you love me. Maybe we both needed reassurance that no matter what happens or what changes, love doesn’t.

Students responded to this recent horrific attack by announcing the March for Our Lives campaign. On March 24, I will applaud the planned march(s) to “demand that children and their families ‘become a priority’ to US lawmakers”. I hope other countries are listening too.

Every generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it. – George Orwell

Each generation knows it’s going to be the one to exact change in the world and make it a better place. And it will in many ways, building upon the failures and successes of each generation that has gone before it. We inherit the world we live in; we don’t get to form it to meet our values or expectations. Perhaps that desire is ingrained in each of us. In these formative years, as youth explore their world and begin to develop a sense of self, they want to strive for change, and as a society who is continuously evolving (in both good ways and bad), we need their enthusiasm and their optimism. Without it, the countless “battles” in the history of each of our nations, won or lost, would not have shaped who we are and where we are today.

I was caught up in the “No means No” campaign of the early 90’s. In college, I was passionate about working women, and child witnesses of wife assault.  After college, I volunteered on a Sexual Assault Crisis Hotline. I was convinced I would change the world. With the recent #Me Too Campaign, maybe in a small way I did. Or at least I helped to pass a baton so change. will. come.

My voice is older and life has sapped much of my energy. Or has maturity simply chipped some of the block off my shoulder? Either way, I continue to hold strong views on violence against women, and I am proud to see my children advocating for those values too. I will never stop using my voice – I am also excited to see what the next generation is saying. I believe it’s worth hearing.

I believe we need to listen.

I believe we need to add our voices.

In all of the struggles for change, throughout the centuries, I see one common bond between each generation, and it is this: we are all aiming for a better, safer, more peaceful world.

And that, my friends, is always something worth fighting for.

Happy (rest of the) Weekend!

Dear Child

Tags

children, cleaning, home, parenting

Dear child,

I know scrubbing the toilet is “gross”, (believe me, I know), but no more gross than the “gift” you left me in your rush to get back to your video game. Just be thankful that I had cleaned the toilet on the weekend (especially after your brother threw up), and that we haven’t had “chili night” in a long time.

I could have been worse. When your brother developed a habit of “picking and flicking” (I think he was bored) and I got sick of cleaning up after him, I made him clean the whole bathroom. Armed with a toilet brush, a sponge, and a toothbrush. I’m talking the tub, sink and toilet. The taps. The floor. The walls. Even the light fixture. There was no merciful pre-cleaning done for his benefit. We may have even had chili that week (Dad did all the cooking at the time). I don’t remember. I just know it cured the habit.

What you choose to do (or need to do) in the bathroom is your business (unless it involves drugs or a girl).

Bathroom Art, circa 2011

Life is messy and full of distractions. But heed this warning: if I am assaulted by any more ” O Henry bars”, you will be scrubbing much more than the porcelain, and I will feed your father chili first.

Love Mom

That which does not kill us makes us stronger. – Friedrich Nietzsche

Happy Wednesday!

On a Jet Plane

Tags

children, faith, family, parenting

When Big Guy was 2, he used to run after me with his arms outstretched, pumping as fast as he could on his little chubby little legs, and calling “Wait me! Wait me!” Today I feel like a 2-year old. Today he’s leaving on a jet plane for England  – partly for vacation and partly as his friend’s escort to a wedding (he’s that kind of sweet)! And I’m excited for him. Excited for the adventure he’s embarking upon but… if I’m completely honest, I’m also a little terrified.

It’s a big, big world and I’ve invested my heart and soul into keeping him safe. I’ve adjusted to him spreading his wings, living his own life…but I’ve been blessed to still have him close enough to visit often…usually with dirty laundry.  England is so far away and it’s been kinda crazy there of late…what if something bad happens! I can’t drive there in a couple of hours. In fact, the thought of hopping a plane in an emergency is more adventure than I can handle. But I would do it. If he needed me to do it!

I know he’s an adult! I know he’ll be fine! I also know the next well-meaning person to tell me these things is going to get socked “right in the kisser”!

www.flickr.com-Mark Anderson

I know these things. I believe these things. But he’s my baby! Not yours. Mine! He’s my surprise baby! He blew apart my adolescent plans and set my life on a different course. For a while there, it felt like us against the world. We’ve cheered each other on (he even offered to bury me in the woods if I didn’t survive our Mud Hero run). In many ways, we grew up together and words simply can’t explain how very precious he is, and how much I love him.

I hope he knows it.

That’s the problem with “good-byes” and “see you soons”. Your whole focus goes into the preparation and the planning. You focus on savouring the joy in the time you’re together. And suddenly, it’s time to go!

I’ve been emotional all week. It’s ridiculous, I know! Believe me, I know!! I’ve chided myself more times than the number of chocolate chips in a really big cookie. I think in part, there have been a lot of changes in the last few years, and I am missing a lot of people. I miss my grandparents who have passed away. I miss my friend who has moved away. And I miss my kids as little people. I miss those good days when we played hard and laughed often in a smaller and safer world. I miss their weight and warmth as they fell asleep cocooned in the safety of my arms. Time marches on.

All my bags are packed; I’m ready to go… ‘Cause I’m leavin’ on a jet plane.
– John Denver

His bags are packed by the door (including new socks and underwear!). There’s already too much to say and no time left. So at 8:30 this evening, I will wave at the sky from the window. I will pray without ceasing. And when he gets home, I want to hear all about his adventure.

I really do hope he has the time of his life!

Gotta Have Faith

Tags

children, faith

Yesterday afternoon, as I crawled along in traffic on the highway, I started composing a humorous post for a Friday afternoon to mark the end of the first full week of summer vacation.

Just before I pulled out of the parking lot after a “pit stop”, I checked my phone and there was a text from Big Guy. All I read was “Call me” and my heart caught in my throat. There were other messages – “Give Little Guy a big hug for me when you see him”, “a little guy was killed by S’ house…darted out at a moving truck, got caught under the rear wheel…”.

Right around the corner from our home. An intersection I pass every day.

My heart broke.

I called Big Guy back right away – he has such a tender heart.

As parents, we do our best to protect our children, but accidents can still happen, cancer can still develop and we are powerless to stop all of it. In an instant, our world can be completely shattered, and we are forever changed.

As I headed on down the highway, I prayed for this family. It was disjointed and poorly articulated, often filled with long silences and deep sighs. My head was empty and my heart was full. And it was in one of those long silences that my ears tuned in to the song on the radio. “…have faith faith, I gotta to have faith, faith, faith” sang George Michael. And I smiled. It was the closest thing to an answer to a question I didn’t know how to articulate:

I know what I believe; sometimes the only thing I can do is have faith. To trust that God will take care of my kids, and if my world is ever shattered, and when my world changes (because we know change is inevitable), have faith that God will steady the ground and help me to walk through it too.

Little Guy got 2 big hugs when I arrived: one from my and one from his big brother.

Photo courtesy of sadmoment.com

Hugs to you too!

WPC: Focus: Never Grow Old

Tags

children, family, Photo Challenge, photography, Weekly Photo Challenge

There’s something magical about bubbles, something fairy-like about their delicate iridescence and their fragile form. Their moment in time whispering childlike wonderment and happy memories as they float away.

This week’s challenge was about focus, and anyone who has made soap bubbles knows that it takes focus and patience, and often multiple attempts to form these airy spheres. Little Guy was my assistant on this particular sunny day, as I attempted over and over to capture these bubbles in time. Instead, my camera shifted the focus from the bubble to my boy, and I captured a even better moment in time! Just like this bubble, this precious child is growing up and the little boy I adore is floating away. I marvel at who he is becoming and like a bubble, I have to set him free so that he may attain his full beauty. And as he grows older, I pray his spirit never grows old.

Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old. – Franz Kafka

To see more photos, in-focus or out-of-focus, click here.

Future Chef

Tags

children, food

My friends on Facebook already heard this news. What good is Facebook if you can’t brag a little about your kids from time to time?!?

This week I tried a couple more new recipes – and they were disasters!

First, I tried to make a dessert using strawberries and rhubarb. The shortbread crust was a beautiful golden colour, but it crumbled when I tried to put it on the plate. And my tart compote wouldn’t thicken. What’s a girl to do?

When the freshly baked cookies crumble, put them on ice cream – jennsmidlifecrisis

The second recipe I attempted was cauliflower fritters. Despite sticking to the non-stick frying pan, the texture was spongy and soggy, and just…wrong! Surprisingly, the one person in our family who won’t eat cauliflower thought they were delicious. My Dad (a fellow cauliflower-hater ) would disappointed!

Cauliflower is nothing but cabbage with a college education.- Mark Twain

Thankfully, Little Guy’s baking attempt fared much better.

This week, his class held a Bake-Off! In addition to researching the nutritional value of their healthy meal or dessert, they had to bring in and display their goodies for 6 judges. Here’s where the bragging comes in: Little Guy won the title of Jr. Chef Champion for 2017, which included a chef’s hat and apron, and the coveted Golden Spoon Trophy!

He was pretty excited! Me too! Thank you to Mama Wears Mascara who shared this recipe a few years ago:

Black Bean Chocolate Cupcakes (Gluten Free & Dairy Free)

1 (14oz) can organic black beans
4 eggs
1/2 cup agave syrup or honey, or 3/4 cup sugar
3 tbsp. dark cocoa powder
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tbsp. safflower or sunflower oil, or coconut butter (melted)
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350F. Line a 12 cup muffin pan with paper cups.

Drain and rinse black beans well.

Combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Blend until beans are fully pureed.

Pour the batter into cups and bake 20-25 min. or until wooden toothpick comes out clean.

I didn’t get to taste a single cupcake! I hope I can talk my future chef into making more!

All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.
-Charles M. Schulz

To My Sons

Tags

adventure, advice, blessing, children, family, humour, laugh, parent

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” –Elizabeth Stone

Someday you will understand. Someday, you will, I hope, be a parent too, and you will understand how much your children shape and reshape you. You will experience the pain and the joy that comes from giving your heart away. You will examine your character, your relationships, and your decisions through new eyes. You will see life through the eyes of a child, and your soul will thrill to see beauty and innocence again. It is an indescribable adventure and a lifelong journey. I am privileged to share it with you.

I wanted to be a “good” and “fun” and “perfect” Mom…the kind who baked cookies and milk, who never lost her temper, who always took time to listen. I wanted to roll out of bed in the morning with a song on my lips. I wanted to be the one to wipe away your tears, and chase away your fears. To be your greatest cheerleader. To never miss celebrating a special moment. I wanted to be Mrs. Cleaver…able to gracefully solve any problem in half an hour or less. I wanted to be a “good” and “perfect” Mom…

Instead, you got a real Mom…I baked cookies (that were often burned or funny looking) and bandaged boo-boos. I tried to pay attention and never turn you away, even in the middle of the night. But I know I didn’t always do it gracefully. I didn’t always keep my temper, or put my “listening ears” on. I failed in many ways, and you will too. Humble yourself before your children when you need to – they love you any way. Treat each day as a new beginning.

Sing loudly even when you don’t know the words…make up your own. It doesn’t matter if they’re super silly or they don’t rhyme. Words like “poop” will always get a laugh. Pick dandelions. Blow bubbles. Make faces. Play. (actually that’s good advice even when you don’t have kids…)

I hope that I have given you some happy memories – things like snuggling on the couch, rescuing worms on rainy days, arts & crafts, and bedtime stories. Savour these little moments – you are giving the gift of time. Children never remember the “big” moments, the ones that adults think are important. Plan “big” moments any way!

Pray without ceasing. It is the only way that you will begin to have the strength, patience, and wisdom you will need for each day, from diapers to driving lessons, and everything in between and beyond. It is one of the most important things you can do for them, and for you!

There are many memories that I treasure in my heart. To Big Guy: “I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be”. To Little Guy: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray…” You guys are the biggest part of my “story” – some day I’ll tell you more.    Love ya’

Mom xoxo