May, 2011

Man Up!

Little boy crying

Don’t let the tough-guy, taekwondo-kicking, always-on-the-move thing fool you – my kid is as sensitive as they come. Talk about wearing his heart on his sleeve – he’s practically got it tattooed right on the middle of his forehead! I’m pretty sure “The Fox and the Hound” scarred him for life,  and I have yet to find a Disney movie that doesn’t have at least one scene where I assume my position as “World’s Meanest Mommy” for “making” him endure such an appalling experience.

 


When he gets frustrated, the tears come. If one of his buddies has something less-than-positive to say about his choice of game/snack/superhero/etc., the lip starts a-quivering. If he thinks I’m upset about something – poof! My sad little shadow is glued to my side.

 

So here’s my dilemma … we talk about encouraging kids to be “real”, express their emotions, be themselves, and all that other good stuff. Heck, isn’t Sensitivity usually on the list of “must haves” for the ol’ Perfect Mate Checklist?

 

Sounds great – my kid is sharing and I’m raising the next "Perfect 10". Perfect.

 

Not perfect. For as much as everyone sings the Sensitivity Song, there is also an equally strong assumption out there that no one likes a Weeping Willie. Society likes its men strong, in control, with just a hint of softness that only makes an appearance during the fleeting, yet appropriate situations.

 

So “How much is too much”? I shudder at the “Boys don’t cry” battle cry and, quite frankly, I love the extra hugs & cuddles when he’s upset and only Mommy can fix it.  I don’t want to downplay what he’s feeling, but not keeping it in check at some point sets him up for a whole world of hurt.

 

Let him cry? Don’t cry at all? Cry for a minute & a half, then man up? This parenting thing is a lot of work! I think for now, I’ll just go with the flow, enjoy the hugs… and ditch the Disney movies!

Posted by Christy mama of... on 05/31/2011 - 23:35
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And then there were none...

My birds just flew the nest and  I have  a pit in my stomach.


baby robinsOur family “adopted” a family of robins this spring. Under our raised deck, a mama robin decided to lay 4 brilliant blue eggs. She guarded them ever so carefully in her prime spot and sat diligently on that nest. My kids loved to peek down the slats of the deck within inches of that fluffy mama bird and she never flinched -even when they shouted “The Mama is still there!” Cereal got soggy in abandoned bowls as my kids started off each day welcoming the Mama bird.


A couple of weeks ago the eggs hatched and four scrawny  translucent creatures (whom resembled no bird my children had ever seen!) arrived. Their beaks, wide open and starving, were the biggest thing about them.


Within days, the pasty birds were plump and feathered.  Amazing how fast they grew.


Then our deck became a big project and boards started to be pulled up for new decking. Despite constant hammering destroying the peaceful spot, the mama bird multi-tasked between retrieving food, sitting watch on the fence or perched on her kids. She could not fly the coop when the going got rough – she had a job to do here! She stuck by her fluffy babies.mama robin


When the boards came permanently off, the nest became totally open and from our kitchen we have spent hours watching the coming and goings of Mama Robin and her nesting crew.  I have grown to really love this hardworking mama – she reminds me of other strong mamas I know. Who knew I’d feel so akin to a robin?


When it poured rain, Mama bird shoved her kids under her - she sat there fat and soaking and proud. She puffed out and preened on her sodden nest.  One self-fulfilled mama bird.


Like any mama of a newborn, she was on constant feeding duty. She spent her day finding worms and bringing them back to a crowd of screaming crying babies. Every feeding was Sophie’s choice – which bird is going to get fed? My kids noticed a pushy baby who was “not polite” and seemed to get more than its fair share. Heard of survival of the fittest? Soon, there were only two baby birds, not four.


At dinnertime, we had only one bird in the nest. Mama still visited but less frequently. Was she kicking them out? Go find your own food? Was she squawking “I’m exhausted from cleaning up after you kids! It’s time you look after yourself!”

 

After I got the kids to bed tonight, I came down to look through the window. An empty nest.  Hollow  with no baby robins, no Mama either.


Breakfast is going to be a bit boring tomorrow with no nature to observe just 3 feet away. We can’t find “our” birds on the ground so hopefully they flew/waddled somewhere safe. For all I know, Mama Robin has a second getaway nest around the corner as a halfway house until they are really ready for the world.


Good luck baby birds, you made our home feel like National Geographic, inspired some great conversations with our kids and connected me in motherhood spirit with a ROBIN. Who knew such lessons would be learned from a proud mama robin and 4 blue eggs??

Posted by momstown mama on 05/27/2011 - 00:30
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Feeding Time at the Zoo

eating snow julie coleThat is what I call the dinner hour at my house – feeding time at the zoo. It’s not news – families that eat together regularly are better and the rest of us suck. Time Magazine reports that the more often families eat together, the less likely kids are to smoke, drink, do drugs, get depressed, develop eating disorders and consider suicide. They have a better chance of doing well in school, delaying having sex, eating their vegetables, learning big words and knowing which fork to use.


Yeah, yeah, yeah, that all sounds fine, and although I want my kids to learn big words, there are a few reasons gathering around the dinner table only happens on weekends for our family.


Practical:
My biggies get home from school at 3:00pm absolutely “starving” and Daddy-o doesn’t get home from work until 7:00pm. I refuse to spend four hours listening to kids complain about being hungry. I am also not willing to shove snacks in their gobs in an effort to hold them over until the adults are ready to eat. I prefer to take advantage of that after-school appetite and fill their bellies with a healthy dinner at that time. It sets them up with lots of energy for their evening sports or outdoor play. Sure, they get hungry again later, at which time I’ll happily serve up toast, cereal, fruit or veggies as an evening snack.


Emotional:
So is our family falling apart? Have we become a huge non-communicating mess? Hardly. There are many other times in the day when parents and families can connect that don’t involve food and sitting. Growing up, I had dinner with my family every single night. Did I enjoy it? Not really. You see, for a kid who didn’t like food, the dinner table often represented a place of conflict. My mom was rightly frustrated that she spent time preparing beautiful meals only to have me and my sisters turn our noses up at them. My dad would inevitably get grumpy with us, falling into those ridiculous parenting platitudes like “you’re not leaving the table until….” And I can assure you, not every child will eat “eventually”. I found hunger pain more appealing than many foods.


Meaningful conversation didn’t always happen around our table, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. My memories credit family walks and bedtime tuck-ins as those special moments and important times.


Parenting is a tough gig these days. There are a lot of studies and research directing us. While I think it’s important to consider the information that we are bombarded with, I like to integrate that with my experiences, some common sense, and the knowledge that I’m the one best fit to make the decisions for my family. The dinner table is not going to make or break my family. I’m quite capable of doing that all on my own, thank you. Check back with me in a few years though – if no one is using three syllable words, I may reconsider.

Posted by momstown mama on 05/25/2011 - 13:54
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How do you soothe a fussy baby?

Figuring out how to comfort baby isn't always easy.
In fact, it’s one of the biggest challenges new parents face. That’s why it’s good to know some of the tried and true ways to soothe a crying child.

 

For an infant who isn't hungry, the oldest trick in the book is to rock baby in your arms. A variation on this is baby dancing, where you hold your child in your arms and dance around the room. Dip baby down, hold baby up and vary your steps to find one that baby enjoys. When your arms grow weary, you can let a baby swing or bouncer seat take over while you offer reassuring words. Before purchasing a swing, evaluate how easy it will be for you to take the baby in and out of it. You may want to look for a model that doesn't make too much noise, which could wake a baby.

 

Sounds can be soothing, too. Experts think babies enjoy static sounds— such as a washing machine, vacuum cleaner, fan or running water— because they mimic the body noises they heard in the womb. Lullaby-playing mobiles and other soothing products can encourage your baby to stay in peaceful slumber, even in the middle of the night. And don't underestimate how soothing cooing, shushing or your own singing voice can be.

 

Finally, consider this: It might help both of you to just step outside, take a walk or give baby a stroller ride. A ride in the car is a classic, as the rhythmic motion and humming sounds can calm baby right down. 

Posted by Dr. Deborah S. ... on 05/24/2011 - 17:28
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10 Tips: How to be a "good" soccer mom

first soccer gameFor many, summer = soccer.  momstown moms have been talking soccer registration since January! Parents encourage soccer as a way to promote teamwork and sportsmanship and if our league is any indication, it clearly supports the stats that soccer is the fastest growing children’s sport in Canada.


Only 3 years into my soccer parent life but I already have a ton to share. Here are my cheeky “tips” to help soccer rookie parents with preschoolers and kindies gear up for the season:


1.    Invest in a good folding travel chair and travel mug. This is the beginning of the big leagues – you may as well get comfortable on the sidelines. Some chairs have an attachable umbrella – splurge as soccer fields are notoriously hot & sunny and you will forget the sunscreen.


2.    If you have other younger children who will be with you – forget the chair, invest in binoculars. This way, you might be able to catch a glimpse of the game your kid is in as you chase the younger child around/off the field or from the attached playground. You didn’t think you’d actually be able to see any of the game did you?


3.    Rock the snack duty & don’t forget your turn!  Long gone are the good old days of orange segments and communal water jugs. I guess the U6 crowd doesn’t like oranges as parents get pretty fancy and creative with freezies, yogurt tubes, watermelon and various nut-free treats.  You get the picture. Snack is important.


4.    Team picture day is chaos, inconvenient but important. Don’t miss it. Your child will tape that team picture to her wall and reminisce about her “Apple Cinnamon” teammates all winter long. Then the year she was a “Bronco” she was away on picture day – you will never hear the end of it. Ever.


5.    If you invite spectators don’t tell them “we’re the blue team”.  A regular field will be turned sideways and have 8-10 mini teams playing on it. Most of them some shade of blue and many duplicates. Those poor grandparents will easily sit at the wrong game before they realise the ponytailed blue #4 is actually not their granddaughter. 


6.    Cheer loudly and for everyone. Even the other team. I know this goes against what you want to do. Drown your competitive spirit – otherwise you‘ll just want to bang your head against the foldable goal posts. Remember your travel mug? Fill it with something fun and this will be easier. (Don’t tell anyone I suggested this!)


7.    Keep expectations low. Your kid is not going to end the season a mini David Beckham. Despite parental seriousness, this is still the daisy-picking league. Kids will routinely run the wrong way and tag team on their own goalie. Or ballet dance her way through the field. Remind yourself, you paid money so your kid could have the experience of wearing a new jersey, eat fun snacks and pirouette across a field. It’s called soccer in name only.


8.    Learn the parent’s names.  You’re going to be sitting with them all summer,  it’s  just a whole lot more comfortable if you connect right away than wait until the last game introduce yourself like a goofball.


9.    Offer to help the coach out. They are all volunteer parents and actually stepped up so you didn’t have to!  Be kind to your coach – coaching mini soccer can be like herding cats and equally frustrating.


10.    Pre-game Nap. It’s called the Soccer Sleep in our house as all games are after dinner and a full day of fun. A little siesta can mean the difference between an energetic player and an exhausted sobbing kid who doesn’t enjoy herself (and neither do the parents).


Get out there and enjoy your kid, the game and the scenery. You are now officially a parent spectator!

Posted by momstown mama on 05/24/2011 - 00:01
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A funny thing happened on the way to the pet store...

Let me start by saying I’m not really a ‘pet person’. I mean, cats & dogs are great... if they're other people’s. The way I see it, I’m just not equipped to deal with feeding, cleaning, walking, and training another little creature – I’ve got my son for that!

 


So when he first started begging for a pet, we finally caved and bought him a fish. We convinced him that watching it swim back & forth would be entertaining enough… and for the first little while, he actually bought it! Fast forward four years, two dead fish and one life lesson of death, grief, etc. and you’re up to speed. My son was ready to hit the pet store and find another little friend to follow in the fins of the infamous Bluey and Herbie. I sent him off with hubby to the pet store for what seemed to be a ‘win-win’ situation for everyone – son gets new fish, dad gets quality time with son, mom gets an uninterrupted 20 minutes to enjoy a coffee.

 

Well, time passed and coffee consumed – however when ‘the boys’ returned, there was no fish to be found. Why? It seems that somewhere between my driveway and the neighbourhood pet store, the wish for a replacement fish somehow morphed into a burning desire for a hamster! Seriously?? A fur-covered mouse, requiring much more maintenance, that stinks, and could potentially escape (not once did either of our fish ever make a break for it!). What part of this seems fun?

 

Plus, when the time comes for this thing to head to ‘hamster heaven’, we’re now dealing with a dead ‘thing’, rather than just a floating fish. Lovely. So when my son sat us down and declared a ‘family meeting’ to discuss the potential new addition, I was prepped & ready to launch into “anti-pet” mode.

 

What I didn’t count on was how seriously he was taking the process. He sat us down with a piece of paper and a pencil in hand and proceeded to write out his detailed list of pros & cons. He asked the right questions, gave the right answers, wrote out a schedule and asked for a vote.

 

Nuts. I could feel my resolve starting to crumble. Could I stick to my guns and keep my house rodent-free?

 

Boy with pet hamster

 


Meet Harry, the newest addition to our family….. *sigh*…. Could you say no to that face??

Posted by Christy mama of... on 05/16/2011 - 16:29
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Free Range Parenting Newbie

happy child at the parkWe made big strides on the weekend. My daughter (5 ½) went out to play by herself.

 

Outside.  Alone. Out back behind our house.

 

Until now, we have always, always been within a few feet of our kids. If playing out front, we have rules about how many houses they can ride their bikes past before turning around and biking home on the sidewalk (it’s 6 houses). If at the park, there’s a comfortable distance but I spot behind adventurous climbers and make sure the kids are clustered so I don’t lose one as they explore.

 

This was different.  As parents we made a clear left hand turn into Free Range Parenting.

 

Our backyard faces a field with a creek and giant willow trees. One of these trees has a skateboard swing which is a favourite of my kids. Our house is a walk-out with a raised deck so from the deck we can see the whole back field. Despite the proximity and view – I had never considered my five year old daughter old enough to play back there by herself.

 

Why not?  Well, because they need to be supervised and that’s public property. And there are dangerous things – like tall trees.  Dirt! Pokey sticks! She could smack herself with that swing and get a black eye!

 

Right. I can hear myself.  Relax, Lady.

 

My husband was working on the deck the whole time and kept an eye on her. At one point he saw her run like the wind across the grass.  A dog chased her. Yep – a good reason I was nervous - who’s protecting her? She hustled home, independently. Then, charged back out a couple of minutes later, unscathed.

 

Another time Michael saw her half way up a tree and called for her to come down (be still my heart!). She climbed down in her dress with grass stained  and bark scraped knees pleased that she’d snuck further up that tree than I’d ever let her.

 

Without meaning to, I’ve parented in a mostly attachment parent kind of way. That hadn’t been my plan (or what my books told me to do), but it’s just what felt right to me. I have always believed in the free range parenting style but until now it was a theory to me, not a practise.  There will be no encouragement needed for my kids to be free range kids, but I need to wear in the idea like a new pair of shoes.

 

Each time I checked on Lauren, the sun was shining brilliantly and I saw her picking dandelions by the fistfuls and twirling in the long grass. Then I saw two little girls picking flowers with her. Girls I have never seen before but they made friends. Remember that feeling as a kid?

 

As I watched my little-big girl pick those dandelions, it sunk in. When I was 5, I walked to kindergarten by myself. I road my bike for blocks before I had to come home (not just 6 houses away within eyesight of my parents) and I would hop from backyard to backyard in games of hide and seek.

 

Was it that different “back then”? The Globe and Mail wrote that being a mother in the 70’s was much better than being a mother today.  Really? Better?

 

My kid is still in my view. She thinks she’s a million miles away. Learning how to make her own decisions, playing with nothing, exploring both the outdoors and her imagination.  Perfect example of a free range kid.  A couple of times, I thought “is this allowed?” I honestly considered – are we bad parents for not being (over)diligent helicopter parents? But no, this is a positive education for both us as parents and our daughter.

 

I so agree with the beneficial natural problem solving and life skills of “Free Range” kids and their ability to make do and use their imaginations. Children learn how to find play instead of being handed an activity. The “risk” is the trouble they get into with that imagination.

 

What kind of trouble? The trouble we all did? Like climbing into icky garbage cans and rolling down hills? Riding bikes and hoping to get lost in the neighbourhood?  Some danger may lie ahead but most (like that enthusiastic dog) are elements our kids need to learn to handle.

 

That fear of risk hinders so many parents from letting their kids just BE. We schedule our family’s every minute with organized activities there is no time for spontaneous play.  And when we hover we’re showing our kids to ask us what to do instead of figuring out a solution on their own.

 

When Lauren finally came in (after 3 hours!) she announced “the ‘very’ backyard is a super place to make friends Mom!”.  She was so proud. And I am of her (and me!).

 

What age do you think is okay to play outside alone?

Posted by momstown mama on 05/15/2011 - 23:58
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Scary Peanut High Tea

tea with grandmaI missed a beat and my daughter could have died.

My oldest daughter has a peanut allergy. It’s so common these days that she’s sheltered – her school and momstown activities are nut-free zones as are most other public places. When I see people eating nuts in public I’m as shocked as if they were driving drunk – don’t they know that kills people? 

 

However, the clearance of all nuts offers a (false) sense of security.  

For the record, I am a little more relaxed about this allergy than many other parents of allergic children.  I believe Lauren can’t live in a bubble (even though I really appreciate the safety that bubble provides her when she’s away from me).  Our house is not a nut free environment. I do buy products that state “may contain traces of peanuts” because usually it doesn’t, but I’m prepared to react if there is. There is peanut butter on our top shelf but only used when Lauren is out or asleep. The other kids have no nuts in their diet so cross-contamination is very limited.

 

Why am I thankful for the public security but not embrace the same no-nut policy at home? Why take a risk? Why is our house not completely nut free? Don’t I want to protect my child?

 

There are studies that show exposure to the allergen in tiny doses may be beneficial to build up a tolerance. To a nut allergic kid, exposure can be nut dust or a smear of peanut butter on the table that wasn’t wiped twice.  Being around these small amounts  could be beneficial, even if it’s a very fine line between beneficial and deadly.

 

Having nuts around also teaches Lauren be wary. She can’t just take a lick of my ice cream but needs to ASK if there are nuts. In her nut bubble there aren’t any chances to practise being wary or nervous because the assumption is nuts are only an absent threat.
Our friends with allergies to  milk, eggs & wheat don’t have the luxury of this bubble and as a result are more vocal and mindful of their allergy – this vigilance is something I need to instil in Lauren – so we do it at home.

 

Onto our afternoon High Tea with Grandma. It was a great afternoon with a 3 tiered platter filled with the typical English Scones, tea sandwiches, fruit and sweets. 

 

It was the first time that 5 year old Lauren had been on a girls-only date and was beyond excited and was licking her lips at the sweets.  I looked over the sweet tray and declared everything fine. Then I bit into my snowball just as Lauren was reaching for hers…..


Peanut. Butter. Ball.
OMG.
Peanut-butter-ball!! Stop!

Like a grenade, nestled between beautiful little sandwiches and fancy cut fruit, a chubby ball of deadly peanut butter coated in icing sugar was sitting there in drag the whole time, quietly waiting.  How the hell did I miss that?

 

I screwed up. I had lost my voice. The very voice I am teaching my daughter to have.

 

I didn’t do the most obvious and critical thing – I didn’t ASK “are there peanuts”? I can’t believe I did not ask the server! Not asking was like pushing Lauren in front of a moving car and hoping the driver swerves. How could I be so stupid??

Suddenly, with a new perspective, everything at the table was contaminated. At the table I was armed with an Epi-pen & Benedryl, like always, but my biggest weapon, my voice, was ignored. 

Thank God I took l that peanut butter ball. I could have lost my daughter.

Posted by momstown mama on 05/13/2011 - 23:58
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For the Love of the Bike …

So I am mid way thru training and finally it happened – I got OUTSIDE for a bike ride. I hope you can imagine my happiness, after 2 months of riding in my basement for 2+ plus hours  – I was more than ready to hit the road on my bike.

 Krista's Bike Training

I love my bike, of the 3 sports in a triathlon (swim, bike and run), the bike portion is by far my favourite, which is a good thing seeing that I will likely be on it for over 3.5 hours on race day!  I love the challenge of a hill climb on my bike, the tempo I find on the flats and I am learning to really love the speed of the down hills. But I needed this ride more for my mental vs physical state, I needed to remind myself why I love this sport so much. So instead of focusing on time or distance, I just let my eyes wander and take in the beauty of the rolling countryside that is just minutes from my home. I let myself forget training schedules, work and family commitments and just enjoy the ride.  I actually felt like a kid again – more specifically, like a kid at the playground after the snow finally has melted away after a long indoor winter! I had a blast – and couldn’t stop grinning!

 

As adults in life, why do we so often forget what brought us joy as a kid? Why do we let ourselves get too busy or too competitive to just enjoy something as simple as a bike ride? I spent endless hours all summer in my childhood riding my bike – I wasn’t ever training, nor was I ever  counting my km’s  .. I was just riding to get somewhere or discover some place I had never been before. So this spring – I challenge you, go dust off that bike, pump up those tires, and feel the wind on your face, feel like a kid again … nothing quite compares to it!

Posted by Krista running mama on 05/12/2011 - 22:22
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Mother's Day Strangers

julie cole 6 kids

A couple of weeks ago, my bad-breathing baby landed us in the Trauma Room in the Emergency at our local hospital. On about his fifth Ventolin treatment, a woman was brought into the bed beside us.

The woman was explaining her symptoms as they were going through triage a few feet away from us. Now, I’ve only seen ER twice and maybe half an episode of Grey’s, but it was pretty darn clear to Dr. Mama that this woman was about to have a massive heart attack. During the chit-chat, I learned that her two young daughters had brought her in and were waiting in the lobby. I also learned that she was 50 years old, the same age her mother was when she died of a heart attack. At that point, I started to feel panic – I just wanted the questions to stop and the treatment to start. I kept thinking “If that were my mother…”

No great surprise, just as the question period was finishing, she went into full-on cardiac arrest. After 40 minutes and 7 shocks to the chest, she was pronounced dead. I was selfishly thankful that I was there with my only kid who would remain completely clueless that someone just died beside us.

Then I thought about the daughters in the lobby. The doctors bickered about who was going to take them into the Family Room to deliver the news. They managed to get the girls to call in their aunt and uncle before telling them their mother was dead.

Within a couple of hours, I was heading home with my son. As I got into my car, I noticed two sisters standing by the hospital entrance, embracing and crying. So this Mother’s Day, I’m thinking about how they have no mother to celebrate with. And 10 years down the road, they may have babies of their own, who will never know Grandma.

In perfect honesty, I’m still frustrated that when that very sick woman entered the Trauma Room, there was too much chat and not enough action.

We only get one mother – there is no time to waste.

Posted by Julie mama of many on 05/09/2011 - 23:26
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Mom Award Moments

child crying

 

This Mother’s Day we all need a Mom Award.  A big, fat shiny medal to wear around the house that says “I’m doing my BEST!”


Medals are a required for those super-trying, OMG moments when you are beside yourself with a child related incident. You know the ones, the moments where the pre-parent in you would have judged and said “my kid will never do that”. Uh huh.


Like the time my daughter decided it was a brilliant idea to perch and bounce horseback style on our deck wall 20 feet in the air or when she swallowed a nickel after she was “done" the exasperating putting-things-in-her-mouth stage.  I needed a Mom Award when I scrubbed smeared blueberry poo from multiple surfaces in my son’s room or when I held him down in the hospital to have a green pea sucked out of his nose.


I chuckled hard at this blog today about a toddler and permanent black marker because I have SO been there.  Over the years, I’ve shared most live parenting moments on momstown Burlington, my home message board and chapter. One afternoon when Lauren was 2.5 years old and I finally has a sleeping 2nd  baby I posted this:


"Attack #2 of the F***ing red sharpie marker!

I thought Lauren was asleep in her room -- uh NO. She smuggled a red sharpie marker in -- I just walked in to find her COVERED  in red dots all over her legs and her toe & finger nails all coloured in. She says she is a ladybug. I started to smile thinking - ok this can come off…THEN I LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM. It's on the back of the door, on her light, on her fabric chair, on her sheets and 2 HUGE circles on her wall - like I'm talking her full flippin' wing span. ALL RED SHARPIE MARKER.

ARGH... I'm on here to cool off as I told her to stay in her room ...."

 

After loads of supportive laughter, comments and cleaning suggestions from my supportive momstown mamas I wrote the second edition a few hours later (after a glass of wine):


"So the update is this great natural solution that Joleen lent me the LAST time the sharpie hit the kitchen cupboards worked well on the walls, door, light - but have taken a bit of paint off. The sheets are toast but who cares because only she will see but I'm bummed about her white chair - slipcover was washed but not yet bleached - will try that next.

Honestly - you must all think I'm an idiot to have left a sharpie out - but it was in my office on the SHELF but this is obviously no barrier. Lauren told me the marker was "lonely", yah right. She went to bed after her bath still covered in marker - so if you see a kid with dime sized red spots all over her arms & legs, she's not sick - she's just my kid!

Oh - I didn't take a picture. I almost did because I did almost laugh (before i looked around) but I was trying to discipline and Lauren could tell I found it amusing and was smiling back at me - so I thought the camera would make light of the situation.... but my mind has enough pictures that's for sure!

Yah  this story is not going into the bragging thread as my daughter - the artist, no way..."

For the record, 3 years later, there is still red Sharpie in her room and she tells the story with great enthusiasm for “the day I coloured my room”.


Do I need a Mom Award? Yes! And I’m glad to say my daily Mom Award is the support from momstown.

 

I bet you have a story to tell about a day you needed a Mom Award - I'd love to commiserate in the comments!


Now get an extra award – the beauty of a momstown community PLUS between May 1-10 our Mother’s Day Gift is $150+ worth of exclusive coupons with an annual $45 membership. Happy Mother's Day!

Posted by momstown mama on 05/04/2011 - 11:14
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Don't Say the "G-word"!

momstown child at computer

When my son won his first taekwondo trophy, I sang his praises. When he learned to swim in the deep end, I shouted from the mountaintops. Heck, when he was finally potty trained, I pretty much had a marching band lined up! So why is it I have such a problem telling people that my son’s a pretty smart kid?

 


Before entering Grade One this year, he was given the opportunity to take part in a new pilot program in our area – one that might lessen his likelihood of being bored every day (When your kid is bored in SK, you’re in trouble – I kept telling him it was all downhill after that!). So along with the normal pressures that come with determining your child’s educational path, I now had to deal with the fact that some team of random school officials had used the “G” word… Yes, apparently my son is G!f+@d.

 

What does that mean? Absolutely nothing to him – heck, we’ve never even had the conversation with him and to the best of my knowledge he doesn’t even know about it. But to me it’s been an ongoing weight on my shoulders that keeps me second-guessing my every decision! Will he be able to keep up? Will his social skills suffer? Will it be too focused on academics? Will I be screwing him up for life?

 

We bit the bullet and decided to try it for a year. Again, he’s been fine – but somehow I’ve managed to go from “shouting from mountaintops” to barely mumbling under my breath! First of all, let it be said that I NEVER use the “G-word” when discussing my son or the program. Just doesn’t seem necessary. I quite often dance around in extremely uncoordinated circles when asked about my son’s schooling. I realize that “these types of programs” can be highly controversial so I try to remain well out of the direct line of fire.

 

Well, the other day, while volunteering at my son’s school to help out at a local fundraising initiative, I ended up chatting with a few other moms at my table. We were having a fine time – chatting about the event, the school, the weather – when the conversation inevitably swung around to our kids. Turns out all of our kids were in the same grade – however, when I was asked which class my son was in, I gave the teacher’s name and immediately the entire feeling of the conversation was changed. Both of the other women stopped what they were doing, gave me the raised eyebrow (you know the one) and responded with an extremely short “Oh.”. And within minutes they had both left the table and were whispering to one another in a corner of the room.

 

Seriously? I was stunned into silence (a rarity for those who know me!) – I said nothing, and in doing so, I felt like somehow I was devaluing my son and the opportunities he’s been presented. So ladies, if you’re reading this, here’s what I want you to know: I love my son, just like you love your kids. I want the best for him – I may not always know what that is at the time, but I make the best decisions I can with the information I have. My job is to do whatever I can to try and ensure he has every opportunity to continue becoming the wonderful, intelligent, caring, entertaining, amazing person he already is.

 

And maybe I should find a few more of the mountain tops to shout from…

Posted by Christy mama of... on 05/03/2011 - 11:57
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