To My Sons

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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

The Talk

Tags

children, family, humour, parent

I’m feeling very tired today, and a little weak in the knees. I think it was the trauma, the rending of my heart by my last born child. The emotional shock took time to set in and lingered with me long into the night. It will take me days to get over the fact that my precious little one has had another ounce of innocence chipped away.

I wasn’t ready! It came out of nowhere! Oh, there were signs that I chose to ignore. Like the weird comment he made recently when we went to kiss and accidentally touched lips instead of cheeks. He made some comment under his breath about babies…that’s how they make babies in MindCraft. I have pointed out that there is more to it than that…but I didn’t elaborate and he didn’t ask…until last night.

Right as I’m about to tuck him in for the night.

It’s not the kind of conversation that you can just postpone. What if he doesn’t ask again? Or worse! What if he asks the wrong person?

I asked him if he wanted me to tell him, because once I told him, I couldn’t “untell” him!

The questions came hard and fast. If kissing doesn’t make babies, what does? What is sex? I had to explain, with age appropriate details, with proper names, with hand gestures. I kept pausing and asking if he wanted me to stop. He didn’t. I had this same sex education conversation with Big Guy when he was older than 9, but he had asked, then decided to wait. It gave me a couple of days to organize my thoughts and take a deep breath.

I got through it all but it was more halted and awkward this time. It was just so…sudden. Was it really only 3 years ago when he announced his stuffed wolf was going to be a Mom? I asked him how he knew that and he told me “she just laid eggs and they’ll crack out in the morning”. Only a Few. Short. Years.

He giggled the whole time.

I guess in many ways, my boy is still a boy.

He’s growing up, just as his brother did before him (and still is!). It’s a great thing! It’s what is supposed to happen! I love watching him learning and exploring and I’m amazed by what a wonderful person he is already.

He thanked me as I flipped off the light switch and turned around to blow him one last kiss. That’s a sign he’s growing up too…

…and then I comforted myself with a large box of Hallowe’en chocolates under a fuzzy pink blanket, rocking gently. I think I still have some growing up to do too.

Happy Weekend

Father-Daughter Shopping

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Dad, embarrassing moments, family, Father, fathers and daughters, humour, memories, parent

“The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage.” – Garrison Keillor

Warning: The following post may cause men with women in their lives (be it mother, sister, spouse or significant other) to have a flashback to their own experience in this department, and spontaneously curl up in a ball and rock. Reader discretion is advised.

– – –

It shouldn’t have been all that embarrassing, but as a teen, I still remember that it was…shopping with my Dad in not just any aisle. We were at the grocery store picking up a few things for my Mom, and he had followed me to the “pad wall”. You know the area in the grocery store that I’m talking about – The wall of brightly coloured bags and boxes with pretty flowers and symbol coded maxi pads, mini pads, tampons and panty liners. The aisle where few men dare to tread, and those who do look dazed and confused. This was before the advent of cell phones, where men just slowly scan the aisle with their phone directly in front of their eyes, waiting for their wife/girlfriend/significant other to yell “that one – in the green box with the dancing pandas”! As if those pandas have anything to dance about! I don’t blame men for wanting to avoid this aisle – I want to avoid this aisle! I think we can all agree that the options are overwhelming… What sane woman wants to give a monthly misery so much of her precious time and rapidly aging brain cells? Do advertisers really think that little pink rosebuds or unicorns sliding down rainbows somehow makes this better? But I digress…

And yet, there I was…standing in front of the colourful, formidable “pad wall”…with my Dad glued to my side. The overhead lights seemed to get a little brighter and the aisle a little longer. I prayed silently that no one I knew would see me standing there. I was sure that my Dad was just as uncomfortable, as we both shifted our weight to the other foot. I scanned that looming fortress wall looking for the blue package with the Sun symbol on it. And when I spotted it, I was aghast to see that my brand, my little frickin’ ray of sunshine, was on the top shelf, well above my 5’ ½” frame (the ½” is important).

“Ah, Dad?” I asked, staring straight at my Mary Jane’s. “Could you please pass me that one”, still staring at the floor and pointing up.

He gallantly reached up and passed me a pink box with daisies. “Um…” I could feel the heat rising in my face and sweat stains spreading under my arms and down my back. It was time to make a decision time: Man up and ask for the blue one with the little yellow sun, or suck it up, say thanks and face the next embarrassing step in bringing home the sundries.

I manned up, thanked him, and headed to the cashier to check out. My face was still flaming and my vision narrowing as my eyes bored a hole in the scuffed linoleum floor tiles. To this day, I’m amazed that I didn’t spontaneously combust right there on the spot. I might have thought to pray for it to happen if I hadn’t lost my ability to string together two or more words.

The car ride home was very quiet. I don’t know if my Dad was embarrassed or if he even gave it any thought. Some Dads, seeing the deteriorating condition of their daughters, might have taken the opportunity to juggle a few pink boxes, or loudly ask her if she preferred the rainbow pony to the dancing panda bear, or the wild rainforest over the field of dreams scented box. But my Dad was (and always is) a gentleman…even when facing a giant “pad wall”.

“It is admirable for a man to take his son fishing, but there is a special place in heaven for the father who takes his daughter shopping.” – John Sinor

– – –

This post was prompted by Evil Squirrel’s Nestrecent Friday post, Unadventure Time, wherein he regaled us with a story from his own history in retail. The term “pad wall” caused me to have my own flashback (complete with fetal position and rocking), and now I’ve shared it with you. Don’t you feel special?

Happy Weekend!

Photo 101: Connections

Tags

blogging U, family, home, parent, photo 101, Photo Challenge, PHOTO101, photography

“While Hubby is away, this mouse will…tackle some small home reno projects with her parents”. We spent the whole weekend connecting over good food and silly jokes. We browsed the aisles of Home Depot by day, and watched Game of Thrones by night. No one connected any paintbrushes with the floor or their thumbs with any hammers! I finally have my kitchen ceiling painted (2 years after I started this painting project). Best of all, Little Guy will have memories of working with his grandparents to transform his space into his space!

I experimented with camera settings, angles, and lighting some time between working hard and hardly working!

“In our life there is a single color, as on an artist’s palette, which provides the meaning of life and art. It is the color of love.” – Marc Chagall

Happy Father’s Day

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children, Father's Day, humour, parent

Little Guy made a special gift at school for Hubby for Father’s Day last year. It’s been proudly on display on the refrigerator all year. His intention was to make his Dad laugh…mission accomplished!

Predictions for Our Kids, in 6 Words

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children, family, humour, in 6 words, laugh, parent

This weekend, we’re all expecting a furry brown creature to predict whether or not spring comes early. I wouldn’t want to be that critter (especially if he predicts 6 more weeks of winter – I would attend that lynching). But seriously, if someone hauled me out of my warm, cozy bed out into the cold, blinding world to see if I can see my shadow, I’d want to crawl back in my hole ASAP too! I won’t even share what words might just escape my lips on the way back in!

Coach Daddy once again compiled a list of predictions for our kids in 6 words from a group of friends, family, bloggers, blogger-friends – in other words, a great group worth reading (me included. I know, I ‘m shocked as you are)!  I don’t know if it was meant to be predictions for the year or for life, but I am confident mine will come try some day! Check out the full list and feel free to add your own in the comments. The more the merrier – Happy Weekend!

Predictions for Our Kids, in 6 Words.

A Parent’s Christmas, in 6 Words

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6 words, children, Christmas, holiday, parent

Despite being visited by “Vincent the Christmas Virus” this holiday season (Vincent is really making the rounds), Coach Daddy still put together a brilliant collection from writers, and bloggers, and parents all over, who shared heart-warming and often all-too-relatable descriptions of Christmas with kids…in 6 words. I’m honoured to have made that list! So grab a mug of hot chocolate, (with or without an extra snort of “Christmas cheer”) and settle in for a good gaffaw! Merry Christmas!

 

A Parent’s Christmas, in 6 Words.

A Typical Day in the Life of a Parent, in 6 Words

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6 words, children, family, humour, parent

My good friend, Coach Daddy, is a very cool guy. In his own words, he’s into “fatherhood, futbol and food”. Blessed with 3 inquisitive, super-cool girls of his own, he knows what he’s talking about when it comes to parenthood, but rather than philosophizing on his own, he asked 66 other parents to “chime in” about a typical day in the life of a parent…in 6 words! It may sound like a simple challenge until you sit down to pen to paper (or in my case, fingers to keyboard)! Try it – I dare you! And then grab a tissue and prepare to read through the list he compiled – I guarantee you’ll laugh out loud! (By the way, I’m #26) Thanks Coach Daddy! And while you’re there, check out the rest of his blog at coachdaddy.wordpress.com!

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A Typical Day in the Life of a Parent, in 6 Words.

“Mama Fic”

Tags

children, family, humour, parent

When Little Guy was 2½, he fell in love with a car transporter that carried 2 race cars. He latched on to it in the store and carried it around with him as we browsed the toy aisle. I kept putting it back on the shelf, and he kept picking it up again. I debated about buying any toys, let alone this one that cost “just a little bit more”…but he had been given some money the last time his grandparents visited, so when I asked him which toy he’d like to take home (giving him a choice between the truck and another car), he smiled up at me and said “ki ki” (thank you). He lovingly picked up the box and carried it all the way to the cashier, grinning from ear to ear and still saying “ki ki”. He cried when the cashier took it to scan it. We even took time to sit on a bench to open the box and I managed to pry one of the cars out. The truck was screwed to the cardboard through 2 deep plastic cones.

When we got home, he patiently and confidently sat on his little chair, with his winter coat and boots still on, holding the truck (which was still screwed to the box) because he just knew “Mama fic”! This Mama was beside herself trying to get it fixed – I tore the house apart looking for tools of any description that could set this truck free. After so much joy, I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. I triumphed that day but it was an intense 10 minutes.

For the longest time, this Mama has been able to fix things with ice packs, hugs, and band-aids. Lately, fixes have also included notes or phone calls to teachers about missed milk cartons, stolen money, and “mud puddle bully” incidents. I can still get through tough levels in video games and pry apart stubborn mini Lego pieces, but it’s usually dumb luck. When I can’t fix it, I can distract him with dizzying negotiations. I can be the queen of compromise. But it’s getting harder…

It’s getting harder, and that makes me sad because I want to be the one who always “saves the day” and protects my kids from disappointments and heartaches. But it can’t always be that way! At some point, if I have done my job right as a parent, I will have to let them make their own mistakes and waffle through it. Big Guy learned a long time ago that Mama can’t always “fix” it – things like crunched cars and expired drivers’ licenses. I am proud of the fact that he is learning to fix his mistakes and solve his problems on his own. I still like that he calls sometimes for “advice” – how to treat a strained back or where to find lemon meringue pie in the grocery store. Just because he has moved away from home, doesn’t mean that my job is completely finished! He can trust me – that even if I can’t always “fix” it, I can still listen, offer advice, encourage, and most importantly, love him – whether it’s a broken car or a broken heart.

I’m looking forward to the day when my boys’ have their own kids who believe, like Little Guy that day with his truck, that Daddy can “fic it”! It’s a wonderful feeling!

Can of Clothes..

Tags

cleaning, family, humour, parent

Last weekend, Big Guy came home with some laundry. But his choice of transport for this stinky pile of towels and clothing was this:

Oh my!

At first glance, you probably chuckled or, like me, rolled your eyes and sighed…

But if you think about it, a garbage can and a laundry basket are both vessels used to contain something. The only difference is what you choose to contain (except for maybe the smell…) At least it was brand new and clean?

Big Guy was able to bring down a lot of dirty laundry and this Mama got it all “de-funked” for him…the hard part was figuring out how to fold clean laundry to put it back in…I’m very thankful he made the car trip down without losing consciousness!! I sent him home with his can of clean clothes, buckled into the front seat. Wish I’d had my camera then!