Bread Crumbs In The Butter

Bullety, Edition 10; The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

• You know the Business Depot commercial that features Mom and Dad jumping up and down to the tune of "It's the most wonderful time of the year..."?  John loves that commercial and at this time of year, it's his favourite joke to make.  He recycles it even more than his "Drive safely and if you hit a deer on the way home call me!" joke.  We're counting down to school - seven days.

• Speaking of counting down; I made it all the way to August 23 before I declared that I was ready for school to start.  I'm ready to be back to the routine and homework and even lunch making.  By Sept 10 I'll be throwing a can of tuna and some rice cakes into their lunchboxes as we frazzle our way out the door, but still, I'm pumped. (Okay, I'm kidding about the lunches, but it does get real old, real fast.)

• We just returned from a two day shopping spree in the US.  I love US Shopping John. He's so carefree, such a risk taker!  As long as it's even just 5% off, he's all over it.  He'll gladly fork over a huge chunk of cash in the name of not buying it here in Canada and paying "ridiculous Canadian clothing prices."   I really don't always see that much of a difference, but I still yell out "What a bargain!" as I walk out of Old Navy.  I can tell it gets him a bit hot and I like to reap the rewards.

• Having said all that, while in a grocery store, I noticed that they now have pre-packaged, pre-made, frozen peanut butter and jam sandwiches.  I have to say this ... If you're too lazy to make your kid a PB&J sandwich, you have issues and should get help.

Hey Superwoman, call your mother!

Lately, I find myself staring off into space, amazed at what I can accomplish in a day.  I've always considered myself sort of lazy, but if I think about it, I'm really not.  I have this insane tendency to be always moving, always on the go.   It helps me get a lot done, but at the same time, I'm a bit stressful to be around.  Everything is urgent and I'm always in a hurry. That has to be annoying?

On any given day I can get up, lounge with my coffee while reading the news, hustle everyone out the door and run errands.  I can go from doctor's appointments to meetings to school plays, have lunch - usually making something for John as well, go for a run or to the gym, pick up the kids, make a pretty decent dinner, help with homework, drive all over town to activities, bathe everyone, read to everyone, cuddle with everyone.

Okay, that's a terrible run-on sentence, but you get my point.  I also have to mention I handle John's customer emails and general screw-ups and watch a good deal of TV.  I'm a machine.

It might sound like I'm tooting my own horn here and I am!  Fifteen years ago if you had told me I would manage to make being a housewife a busy full-time job, I would have laughed at you and shoved a foot in your ass.  That I'm here, doing it, amazes me.  That I like it astounds me.  But hey, I do.

Now,  if only I could remember to call my mother more often!

Go on over

After a summer hiatus, I am once again writing over at GNM Parents.  Have you been lately?  It's not only informative and engaging, it's got great ideas on subjects near and dear to my heart;  parenting, cooking, relationships, living green etc... The ideas are endless!  Not to mention they've acquired some fabulous new writers.

Let's talk about bedtime ...

Nothing gets a Mom all riled up and chatty like a good old fashioned sleep discussion.  "How's she sleeping? is usually the first thing we ask new Moms after  "How're your boobs?".  I myself have been known to not be friends with women who's babies are sleeping well.

Where was I?

Right. Sleep.

This is different though, because we're entering a realm I'm unfamiliar with;  Sleep and older children.

Kristyn is 10.5, she'll be 11 this year, and is starting Grade 6.  Erin is only sixteen months behind her and is 9.  She's starting Grade 4.   Last year, their bedtime was 8:30pm, meaning in bed and reading with lights out at 8:45pm.

It occured to me last night that Kristyn is starting Grade Six.  Is it still reasonable to expect her to have to go to sleep at 8:45pm?  She wakes at 7am to catch the school bus at 7:50am.  That's about ten hours of sleep.   I think that's too much, no?  I'm not worried about Erin's bedtime (they share a room), she does what Kristyn does and handles it just fine.   I was thinking of asking them to be in bed by 8:45pm and reading until 9:15 or so.  They don't always read, sometimes they do brain teasers or puzzles or just chat, but I feel that downtime is important.

So what time does your late-elementary to middle schooler go to sleep?

Bullety, Edition 9; How do you know you're country?

• This is Kristyn showing her cute "little" calf, Taffy at the local 4-H Agricultural Fair. That's how you know you're country.  She did very well. We're waiting on the final results, but were told it's a pretty safe bet she moves on to the regional level next month.

• Another way to tell you're country?  You do a catering drop off in Kanata and have to bring your kids.  It's fine, because the client has two children whom yours know, so they play outside.  Halfway through you say to your nine year old daughter "Erin, watch Alex outside, okay? Make sure he doesn't go into the road becausee he's not used to ... well ... roads."

• We're having a big bear problem out here.  I didn't blog about it three weeks ago, but we had a couple of late-night visitors in the form of two 250lb bears on our front porch one night at 3am.   Last night, we noticed a very large wasp's nest in a tree and made a note to take care of it today.  This morning, it was in two pieces.  One half on the ground, empty, the other half still in the tree.  That's interesting, or rather, scary as hell.   The kids were confused as we talked about it and asked what would have done that.  I said "What likes honey?" and Alex yelled out "Winnie Da Pooh lives on our farm!?"

• We've taken some steps to purchase some livestock.  All of you who know me from high school or before are laughing your asses off right now, but it's true.  We're thinking of some sheep, goats and chickens for now.  My first question was "How early do I have to get up to feed these things?"  I wasn't taken seriously, but I so was being serious.   How early do I have to get up to feed goats, sheep and chickens?

One of those days ...

Make coffee. Take out the trash. Give the kids breakfast.  Take out chicken for supper. Find time for a shower. Pay the bills online. Put in load of laundry. Do customer emails.  Set kids up with paint and paintbrushes (that lasts 45 seconds). Bid farewell to lucky husband who gets to leave for the day.  Throw kids in pool. Watch them swim.  Pay attention to each and every child as they show you their tricks. Hang clothes on clothesline.  Answer phone.  Argue with angry customer on the phone. Get hung up on. Answer phone again. Cry to my Mom. Plan menu. Try to figure out what to do with chicken for supper as I make lunch. Feed kids. Put laundry in. Answer phone from fellow soccer mom asking if I can take her kid in return for her taking mine last week. Get kids settled with a movie and ask them to please be quiet for just one hour while I work. Go downstairs and attempt to sift through piles and piles of unfinished orders and items.  Finish those with only seven interuptions. On the way up the stairs, spot dirty floor and start to clean it, but find out Alex is "all done" and needs my ass wiping expertise.

Walk to washroom and realize it's only 1:53pm - even though it feels like 9pm.  There's still so much to look forward to today.

Bullety, Edition 8; Underwear just aren't that big a deal

All four kids have been checked up!  You know you have many children when your doctor's office has to spread you all out over two days.  Yeesh.  My children are healthy and happy and freaking tall!  All of them have followed the same curve their entire lives, and Meg and Erin are on the thin side for their heights, but they're some string beany kids.   Alex is the tallest of our lot and if he continues to follow the curve he's on, there is reason to believe he might not stop growing until he reaches 6'7".  Can you say "Holy shit that's tall!"

• Speaking of Alex again.  Yesterday was his "worst day ever".  Not only did he get his four year old immunization (DTPT, no MMR and a bit of a head nod and a promise to consider varicella and others ... ), but at supper he bonked his nose on the end of the table.  I'm still not sure what it is he was doing, but I watched the whole thing and couldn't stop it.  One second his head was up and chewing, the next he was clutching his nose as blood spat out everywhere.  He had an impressive bump, but my extremely calm first aidey ways (read Moyra checked WebMD and told me what to do as I shook like a leaf) ensured that his nose looks just fine today.

• I have been eating an insane amount of raspberries lately. They're my absolute favourite of the berries.  They're also responsible for tearing up my bowels on the way out.   I get a serious case of the trots if I eat too much.  Which I always do.  I just can't help myself.  Funny, stick a bag of chocolate in front of me and I take a piece and walk away.  A basket of raspberries stands no chance against my gluttony.

• Last night, while watching Big Love, I snuggled up to John and said "Aren't you glad you only have one wife. I doubt you could handle more than me."  To which he replied,  "Sure, I could handle it!"   Sensing  he had made a grave, bold error, he quickly backtracked with  "I mean, sure I could handle it, but it doesn't mean I want to."

• Know what I did today?  I spent the afternoon with Andrea and her amazing little girls.  They came by for a chat and a swim. As I said to her when they arrived;  I felt like I already knew the girls even though I hadn't met them. It's a testament to Andrea's amazing writing that they were exactly as I had pictured them.  Adorable and polite and absolutely beautiful.  Andrea is no slouch either and a very pleasant and easy to talk to person.  A fantastic way to spend an afternoon.

Through his loud little eyes

Enjoying my girls has always been an even, consistent, feeling.  The nature of girls, especially of mine, is that they're quite pleasant when they're young.  They didn't have a lot of tantrums, even if they were slightly whiney at time.  They're extremely respectful.  All three of them would sooner burst into flames than disrespect or disobey anyone.  Our days with them are mostly easy to predict.  They know the routine, they get it done. Even if they sometimes dawdle a bit or cluck their tongues at being asked, again, to pick up their school bags.

Enjoying Alex has always been a bit more of a challenge.  It's almost as though he was born with an intense sense of urgency.  A desire to be responded to immediately upon deciding he needed something.  At 4.5, he's still like that.  If he wants to participate in the conversation, we'd all be better to stop and listen, because he will freak out.  If you don't stop the game to let him in, watch out, he will yell and scream.  Not that we cater to this, but no amount of explaining patience has seemed to sink in.

I love Alex with the same intensity of the girls, but enjoying him, truly wanting to be in his company, can be hard.  He's quite taxing to be around sometimes.  He only has two noise levels  - loud and so-loud-you-want-to-cry.  There are days when I want to shout to him "I need a break from you!" 

Practically every night, as I tuck him in, when he asks me a thousand crazy questions like  "How did they make the spaceships?"  or  "How did God make da birds?", I just can't wait to get out of that room and enjoy some quiet.  I mean, how do you answer those questions?   How do you explain to him, as you sit for the first time that day and find him out of his bed telling you about the great mysteries that clog his brain, that Mommy is tired and please, go to freaking sleep?

You don't.  You just smile and nod and tell him you'll talk about it tomorrow - and trust me, he will remember and will want to discuss.

Lately though, I'm a huge fan of Alex's.  I've suddenly fallen in love with his boyness and I can't get enough of him.  I love to see him jump off the pool ladder rather than stick a toe in trepidaciously.  Catching him peeing into a bush at a soccer game is priceless and not exasperating.  He despises underwear and that's fine with me.  His hair is blonding from the sun and he has a fantastic surfer boy tan on his back from being outside so much.  He says things that are so adorable, so insanely non-sensical and innocent that I almost want to cry at how cute they are.

I'm sure that my newfound fandom of Alex's has a lot to do with the fact that in less than a month my buddy will go off to school.  His world is going to expand far beyond this house, this family and the little nursery school he went to. Everything that has nurtured him to be ready for this point.  I'm not sad for myself.  I'm excited for him.  I'm excited for all of us because we get to watch him go off and be here to hear his tales.  For the next few weeks though, I'm going to see our small world here through his eyes and enjoy it.  Once he's gone, I'll have to hear about the world as he saw it, instead of how we did together.

Bullety, Edition 7; Lots of girlie information

• My husband has witnessed me squeeze out four decent sized babies (one was ten pounds!).  He has walked into the bathroom after me and not only asked me if something crawled inside me and died, but he's complimented the sheer stank of the place.  He offers to pick my zits.  All this from a man who freaks out, curled up in the fetal position if I even mention that I have my period. Like it's contagious.  I'm thinking of wearing tampons as earrings just to see him squirm.

• Here's a few things I am in desperate need of;  a haircut, highlights, waxing and a shower.  Are you picturing how pretty I am today?

• Dick is on my last nerve.  Some crazy Big Brother full moon has come about because I'm actually starting to see Jen as a smart player.  If Dick was constantly on me like he is on Jen, I would have drowned him the hot tub and buried him a pool of slop by now.  I don't do sanctimonious very well and Dick is about as sanctimonious as they come.  I'm probably the only person in the whole world who thinks Eric rocks, but I admit it has a lot to do with the nipple rings.  He went up a whole 6 hot notches when I saw them.

• Training for the next triathlon is going well.  If you count drinking beer (arm curls!), eating cookie dough (carbs!) and bending over to pick up laundry (squats!) as training.  Which I do, so shut it.

Ready

On Sunday, during dinner with my Mom, Alex reminded us all - for the millionth time - that next month, he will go to junior kindergarten.   We all laughed and asked him questions. His excitement was infectious.  He has some big ideas about what JK will bring.

It was at that point that I remembered something I wanted to tell John.

"I think I'm going to drive the kids and pick them up on the days Alex goes to school.  Rather than have them take the bus." 

Alex was not impressed. His mouth dropped open and he yelled out "What!? No way!  Mommy, I want to take da bus.  Like da girls."

I was shocked.  I hadn't even give a thought to what he wanted to do.  The idea of putting him on that giant bus scares me to death, so I figured I would just drive them in.  Easy, right?  Not according to Alex.

I sat at the table and looked at everyone sitting around me, ready to protest. I opened my mouth and my Mom said "Of course he's going to take the bus, Chantal.  All of his sisters did. They were fine."

"But, but, but ... he'll get lost. Or get on the wrong bus.  Or get off at the wrong stop."  I was almost crying.  I couldn't even fathom any of what I was saying.

"Mommmy!" Alex yelled "I have da girls to be my buss buddies.  Ti-tyn can take me to my class and I get off da bus when I see you at da dwiveway!"

The answer is pretty clear.  Alex should take the bus.  He's four and a half.  He's ready.  He's had his school bag packed since June.  He's ready. He can write his name.  He's so ready.

I'm just shocked at how not ready I am.