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| Not dairy-free. |
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| Dairy-induced sugar coma. |
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Daily rhythm
Carol Nasr could just be my most favourite person ever. I thought so after our first meeting, waaaaay back in December. But then life got in the way and I stopped remembering her words and following her advice and then the summer home with the boys was looming in front of me and I knew I had to come up with a game plan or we might not make it out alive.
She does home visits and came to check out our area and make suggestions regarding their toys and environment. Yes, I was nervous. She was coming to my germ factory. The place I want to firebomb and start over with on a daily basis. I figured there would be a stern talk about keeping a proper home with a place for everything and everything in it's place. Because yeah, that would never happen.
Instead, we had a relaxing and invigorating meeting. Neither of the boys had napped, which is apparently our new normal. Imma gonna roll with it. We chatted while they crawled over us and whined and cried and then we toured the house and the back yard. I thought I'd share her words, tips and suggestions with you. Some of them seem pretty obvious in retrospect, but often you need to hear the same thing phrased differently before it makes sense.
I hope you find some of these tips helpful in planning your own rhythm.... I'll let you know how successful ours is (or isn't) as the summer progresses....
She does home visits and came to check out our area and make suggestions regarding their toys and environment. Yes, I was nervous. She was coming to my germ factory. The place I want to firebomb and start over with on a daily basis. I figured there would be a stern talk about keeping a proper home with a place for everything and everything in it's place. Because yeah, that would never happen.
Instead, we had a relaxing and invigorating meeting. Neither of the boys had napped, which is apparently our new normal. Imma gonna roll with it. We chatted while they crawled over us and whined and cried and then we toured the house and the back yard. I thought I'd share her words, tips and suggestions with you. Some of them seem pretty obvious in retrospect, but often you need to hear the same thing phrased differently before it makes sense.
I hope you find some of these tips helpful in planning your own rhythm.... I'll let you know how successful ours is (or isn't) as the summer progresses....
Rhythm, repetition and ritual. Young children crave these three qualities in family life.
Trust that they will not get bored when you do things the same way. Change up little details to keep you interested.
Look to establish a daily rhythm (routine), and a weekly rhythm. An established daily rhythm is a mom's best friend because it saves you from oodles of negotiation. You just say "it's time to do..." instead of trying to convince the boys to do something you want them to. Eg. "It's time to get in the car, it's time to put on your backpacks, etc." Don't ask them if they want to do the daily outing. Just be their leader who knows that what you have chosen to do will be just fine, and go ahead and do it confidently. There is always another day to do something else if they complain about it.
Daily rhythm would mean having breakfast at the same time every day, leaving for outings at the same time every morning, and returning at the same time just before lunch, going to the playground every afternoon at the same time, having an art time. This will give everyone a good secure feeling of knowing what to expect. That is rhythm and repetition.
An example of a ritual that would bring delight to your boys during the day: a little verse just before meals, or the same song or blessing at every bedtime, or the same rhyme as you go out the door. These can be very short.
Think of the week's rhythm in major and minor outings.
Some of the major outings we talked about:
Some of the minor outings we talked about:
Park
Commons
Public Gardens
Library
The waterfront - the playground by the museum
The Farmer's Market on a Friday or a Sunday when no crowds.
Possible weekly rhythm for morning outings:
Monday: Park
Tuesday: Library
Wednesday: Downtown trip (waterfront, Gardens, glass elevator, Commons & Horses)
Thursday: Flex day (workday for me)
Friday & Saturday: Major outing 1x week (Farm, Lake, Beach etc.)
Aim to start your outings at 9 a.m. allowing 1/2 hour travel time each way. Pack up the backpacks the night before with the items you can pack early. e.g. water bottles, sunscreen, clothing supplies, hats, a few small toys, etc. Decide the night before what snacks you will add to the backpack in the morning.
After lunch, maybe that's a good time for art projects. Or after breakfast before you leave for the day.
We talked about the importance of work and using big muscles, especially for boys. Look for tree stumps, sand bags, heavy things that can be used in the yard. A half-barrel from Kent or Home Depot gardening sections, to be used for water play in the back yard. Can be filled with the hose or with buckets. Boys can use buckets or ice cream containers to haul water from this "well" to other parts of the yard. They can put sticks and leaves in the half-barrel and make soup, or they can sail boats, bark in it, etc. Empty it out every few days to keep it from getting yukky.
Consider getting a long plank they can move around the yard, especially to be used with the stumps, as balance beam, bridge, etc.. Stumps are also great for jumping off of and are not too high to be unsafe. Stumps (4 - 6 of them) can be lined up or put in semi circle or some other configuration in yard where they can be used in many kinds of play. Consider water painting outside using real (but cheap) paintbrushes from Canadian Tire. (We tried this after she left, using rags, and the boys loved it!!!)
Bales of hay can be fun for the yard too. Eventually they disintegrate and you can mulch with the hay.
Be sure to pursue the mother's helper idea for help on your outings. So much more fun for all when there is an extra pair of hands.
When you start to reduce toys and clutter, remember to keep it simple for yourself. Just attack one small area at a time. Or one category of toys. Put the toys you remove out of sight. Keep toys you know will be played with.
Book to read: Simplicity Parenting, by Kim Payne. Easy read, very helpful suggestions. from Amazon, or Chapters. (Note - we already have this book, it's a good one!!)
Be sure to pursue the mother's helper idea for help on your outings. So much more fun for all when there is an extra pair of hands.
When you start to reduce toys and clutter, remember to keep it simple for yourself. Just attack one small area at a time. Or one category of toys. Put the toys you remove out of sight. Keep toys you know will be played with.
Book to read: Simplicity Parenting, by Kim Payne. Easy read, very helpful suggestions. from Amazon, or Chapters. (Note - we already have this book, it's a good one!!)
Friday, June 24, 2011
I want roses
I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me!
Love, Rainy
Thursday February 17, 1994
DD
Well, I obviously didn't call M the other night. I chickened out & told myself to go to bed early. (like I was gonna sleep - I left the phone "on") M called at 9:00. I am such an idiot!
(Note: I think this fear of calling him, or the necessity of having him call me stemmed from my mother always telling me to let the boy make the first (& only) move. nice girls didn't. Or else I was just a socially awkward weirdo.)
M might be coming over on Saturday. I haven't seen him since the 28th of Jan... that's 3 weeks ago. If he can't come up Sat, then I'll see him the next Friday, which is my birthday. That would make it 4 weeks :(
Tonight he only called around 9:00 & we got off at 9:30. I remember one time we talked for 4 hours! Usually it's at least an hour. I hope nothings going wrong.
I want roses. Ever since grade 5 my friends have gotten flowers & roses from their boyfriends. This valentine's day, most of the girls I saw had carnations & roses. I've never gotten flowers from a guy ever. I had secretly wished that M would get me some for valentine's day, but he's not a mind reader. I don't want to TELL him... I want him to think of it on his own. This will be interesting.
(Spoiler: it was grade 8 before I got any flowers. And I still have them, all the petals of all the roses I received from 1996 to 2006, when Elliot was born, all stored in a giant vase on the mantle. I had read once about a woman who'd saved all the petals from the flowers given to her by previous suitors and had scattered them at her wedding. I wanted to do the same but realized as we planned our wedding in 2005 that it was a messy and slightly sociopathic idea. They're probably 75% dust bunnies by now.)
I'd also love to get a ring for my birthday (from M) I don't wanna say it 'cause it sounds greedy. Everyone asks me what I want for my birthday. R is the only one I've answered. I felt bad about it too! How am I ever gonna get what I want without asking or telling when I get the chance!?
God, I'm messed up.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
There's no place like home.
In this moment, I am struggling.
My course for September is full, without me in it. So now I'm wondering if this is fate. If I'm meant to be doing something else. Or if all the pieces will fall into place and I'll get pulled from the waitlist.
The boys are playing happily together upstairs right now, but no one is napping, which of course means mama ain't napping. (How sad is it that spell check recognized "ain't"??) Why is it always the day I need a nap the most that they simply refuse? My temper is already short. This isn't helping. I know their napping days are numbered, Elliot rarely does anymore. But my goodness, he really needed it today.
In addition to being a dairy and soy free family (and a caffeine-free mama who should also be sugar free) we are now supposed to be gluten free. This is intimidating and frustrating and leaves me wondering what we'll be able to eat. And hoping that we get to witness all the positive health changes quickly to make it all feel worth while. Felix has nasty eczema patches on the tops of his feet that won't clear up. He had specialist appointments last week - one for his hemangioma (it's fine, still wait-and-seeing) and another for his ears (which aren't fine - still full of fluid, despite no more ear infections since coming off dairy in March. Follow up in October, plus another hearing test. To their surprise, he passed the last one. I'm suspicious it's because Elliot was in the room too and might have been supplying involuntary, non-verbal clues during the testing). During both appointments, he pointed to his feet and told the doctor to check them because they hurt. Poor boy. We got some prescription hydrocortizone cream, which is proving to be somewhat helpful on the red spots. But now gluten's got to go.
I find myself snapping at boys frequently, with unrealistic expectations for their behaviour. Felix is in a run away phase. I hated it with Elliot and handled it badly, but convinced myself it was due to the post-partum depression and the fact that I had to cart around - or abandon - a baby to sprint after the runner. But no, I'm learning I just handle it wrong. I yell and threaten and grab at arms and plunk his struggling, screaming body into the stroller as punishment. He came stupid close to being hit by a car over the weekend. To the point he was actually touching the car when it stopped. (Not the fault of the driver, not really.) Another time he chased some pigeons out into a busy grocery store parking lot. Often he willfully runs away, though many other times he's just not paying attention. I think part of this comes back to those blocked ears. He's not paying attention because he can't hear properly.
Already today, I've snapped at Elliot multiple times, "When I tell you to stop touching something STOP TOUCHING it! Now." Doesn't matter what it is, the phone, computer, car, neighbour's car, the cat (I also told him that if she scratched him, I wouldn't do anything. He chases her and picks her up and teases her. She's old and cranky as it is. She has and will scratch.) And he's taken to shouting these things back at me, too... "Mama, I asked you and then I told you and now I'm gonna make you get me some ice cream!" *sigh*
I've misplaced my Cupcake book. Might be for the best, but I would like to find it. I searched Elliot's room in case he'd pilfered it, being enamored of it as he was. Nope. I hope it didn't end out at the Curb.
I'm looking forward to Thursday when we have a home visit from the Calm Parenting specialist. I'm hoping she can give me some tips and suggestions on simplifying our home to make things calmer over the summer. Because yeah, only 4 more daycare days between now and next week. Then they're both home with me for 2 months. Yesterday I was looking forward to it. Today I'm not.
Then again, today 'I'm not' a lot of things: energetic, caring, rested, coping. I would like to start over, please. Do they make ruby red slippers for that?
My course for September is full, without me in it. So now I'm wondering if this is fate. If I'm meant to be doing something else. Or if all the pieces will fall into place and I'll get pulled from the waitlist.
The boys are playing happily together upstairs right now, but no one is napping, which of course means mama ain't napping. (How sad is it that spell check recognized "ain't"??) Why is it always the day I need a nap the most that they simply refuse? My temper is already short. This isn't helping. I know their napping days are numbered, Elliot rarely does anymore. But my goodness, he really needed it today.
In addition to being a dairy and soy free family (and a caffeine-free mama who should also be sugar free) we are now supposed to be gluten free. This is intimidating and frustrating and leaves me wondering what we'll be able to eat. And hoping that we get to witness all the positive health changes quickly to make it all feel worth while. Felix has nasty eczema patches on the tops of his feet that won't clear up. He had specialist appointments last week - one for his hemangioma (it's fine, still wait-and-seeing) and another for his ears (which aren't fine - still full of fluid, despite no more ear infections since coming off dairy in March. Follow up in October, plus another hearing test. To their surprise, he passed the last one. I'm suspicious it's because Elliot was in the room too and might have been supplying involuntary, non-verbal clues during the testing). During both appointments, he pointed to his feet and told the doctor to check them because they hurt. Poor boy. We got some prescription hydrocortizone cream, which is proving to be somewhat helpful on the red spots. But now gluten's got to go.
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| Creamed for 5 days and still red and crusty. |
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| It's faded so much! And lookit those eyelashes. He's such a beauty! |
Already today, I've snapped at Elliot multiple times, "When I tell you to stop touching something STOP TOUCHING it! Now." Doesn't matter what it is, the phone, computer, car, neighbour's car, the cat (I also told him that if she scratched him, I wouldn't do anything. He chases her and picks her up and teases her. She's old and cranky as it is. She has and will scratch.) And he's taken to shouting these things back at me, too... "Mama, I asked you and then I told you and now I'm gonna make you get me some ice cream!" *sigh*
I've misplaced my Cupcake book. Might be for the best, but I would like to find it. I searched Elliot's room in case he'd pilfered it, being enamored of it as he was. Nope. I hope it didn't end out at the Curb.
I'm looking forward to Thursday when we have a home visit from the Calm Parenting specialist. I'm hoping she can give me some tips and suggestions on simplifying our home to make things calmer over the summer. Because yeah, only 4 more daycare days between now and next week. Then they're both home with me for 2 months. Yesterday I was looking forward to it. Today I'm not.
Then again, today 'I'm not' a lot of things: energetic, caring, rested, coping. I would like to start over, please. Do they make ruby red slippers for that?
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Happy Father's Day
I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me!
Ok, yes, this entry is late. But it coincides perfectly with Father's Day! I wanted to post a Facebook tribute to my dad, who lives 3 hours away and we rarely see each other. So I dug out some old pictures and hubby sweetly scanned them for me. (Yep, I put him to work on Daddy's Day!) Here are a few gems...
Ok, now on with the show.... but one more picture. See those smiling kiddos... here's how they looked in 1993, around the time of the diary posts. I just love how it looks like I've got a gigantic head. And such bad skin. Stupid shadows. Stupid leaning over the chair! But my, don't we have nice smiles?!
Love, Rainy
Ok, yes, this entry is late. But it coincides perfectly with Father's Day! I wanted to post a Facebook tribute to my dad, who lives 3 hours away and we rarely see each other. So I dug out some old pictures and hubby sweetly scanned them for me. (Yep, I put him to work on Daddy's Day!) Here are a few gems...
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| Lookit me, all new and fresh and he's so young and all! |
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| I'm about 3. Mom was close to popping out my brother. |
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| My and I are 15 months apart. Eep! |
Sunday, February 13, 1994
DD
I haven't talked to M since Wed. Night. I went to R's & Dad's. I was supposed (sorta) to have called him... but I chickened out. What if his dad answered and I started talking to him thinking it was M? That would be totally humiliating. I did that with R and her mom once! That's the only reason I don't like called him. How am I supposed to tell him that? What happens tonight if he calls and asks why I didn't call?I can't lie to him. But I doubt he'd understand that I'm "scared". He'd probably think I was such an idiot!!
I really do love him... as much as any 15 year old can love someone & call it love. But I don't see any way me & him can have a good relationship if we don't talk about things like that... about our feelings. I know we're both very capable of talking seriously. We have before. He says he likes to talk about that stuff. I do too.
He usually brings up stuff like that. I can't. I don't know how to start or what to say. Geez. I can't even write what kind of "that stuff" in my diary. I'm pitiful. Anyway, I told myself I'd call M at 8:30. It's now 8:20. I'm praying he'll call me. I really doubt he will. I can tell he's starting to think something's up because I always find an excuse not to call him. I hope he doesn't think it's because I don't like him anymore. I do like him. I love him. A lot. I'm wrecking things again. I know it. How do I always manage to screw up something important? Why am I so chicken? I hate this. It's wrecking my life!!
Well, I've got 7 minutes. Please call. Please. I don't know why I'm this chicken!
Big deal if his father answers. I've called there a few other times when his dad has answered. I can normally tell them apart. Why am I being so dumb? What's the real reason? I wish to god I knew. With my luck, I'm probably risking losing M. If he thinks something's up & I don't love him anymore, he'll most likely dump me. Maybe I'll let him read this entry. I can't tell him. I doubt I'll even be able to let myself show him this.
What's wrong with me?
Well. One minute.
I'll call.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Beachin'
Our city holds a yearly Curbside Giveaway, where you can drag all your unwanted crap treasures out to the curb for anyone to find and claim. We participated last year, cleaned out a bunch of crap treasures and yes, brought some new crap treasures into the house - Felix's big boy bed, for example, was being given away by one of his daycare teachers.
This year, the day was bright and sunny. We piled the curb high withcrap treasure - old monitors, printers, piles and piles of books, toys the boys no longer wanted played with (and that I didn't think the daycare wanted, either - they received a large bag from us last week!), Christmas decorations, old picture frames, candles, a legacy toy box that just took up too much space...
Then we hopped in the car and went down to the Farmer's Market. (Where I stocked up on soap for the boys' latest obsession with lathering themselves in the tub, and Rawthentic chocolates... o.m.g. I need willpower. Too tasty.) Each time we bring the boys we swear we'll never do it again without short pieces of rope to tie them to us. And muzzles. Maybe straitjackets. They go everywhere, touching everything, and smashing into everyone. All at once and usually in different directions. We have talks with them in advance, reminding them of rules and personal space and putting their listening ears on. But it's always a madhouse. I grew up in Farmer's Markets... I don't remember mom tearing out her hair or threatening to thrash us. But those were different times. It wasn't as crowded in our little town. And we were a bit older. Or I have a selective memory. (Note to self: call mom.)
We made it out of the Market alive but not quite sane and herded theferal cats boys to a nearby park with a play structure and some shade for a picnic. When we could finally peel them off the slides, we went for a looooong drive so they would just nap already.
We drove fairly aimlessly... 30 minutes in one direction, then back and veering off and circling around. We went down roads we hadn't been on in years. Followed one until it ended at a golf course on the ocean. When I started muttering, Elliot piped up from the back seat, "All roads have to end somewhere, mama!". Sage little creature. We meandered around until we ended up at a beach. And then thechaos fun really began! We were unprepared, so made due with rolled up pants... until those got soaked. You know you've had a wild time when you have salt lines on your thighs!
Felix was challenged by the tides. He would splash out to meet them and run shrieking and laughing in with them. Then the water would rush out, sucking sand and rocks out from under our feet, knocking us off balance... I had to run interference so Felix didn't get swept away. Every time.
The tides were coming in, quickly. My boys made a wall to buy themselves some time. It was a valiant effort. But, predictably, an epic fail. There might have also been some burying of a small child in the sand, necessitating a speedy save when the area was flooded.
Had a gourmet supper of hotdogs and fries on a boardwalk and then came home, wiped. And saw that most of ourcrap treasures had been re-homed! Hooray for cleaning out the corners of our dangerously full basement and closets. And by that I mean barely denting the heap. Honestly, we may be about 3 piles and a candlestick away from falling under the hoarder classification.
We sure soaked up the sun, and I'll sleep good tonight. (You hear that boys - stay in your own freaking rooms, ok!) And hopefully we can do it all again real soon.
This year, the day was bright and sunny. We piled the curb high with
Then we hopped in the car and went down to the Farmer's Market. (Where I stocked up on soap for the boys' latest obsession with lathering themselves in the tub, and Rawthentic chocolates... o.m.g. I need willpower. Too tasty.) Each time we bring the boys we swear we'll never do it again without short pieces of rope to tie them to us. And muzzles. Maybe straitjackets. They go everywhere, touching everything, and smashing into everyone. All at once and usually in different directions. We have talks with them in advance, reminding them of rules and personal space and putting their listening ears on. But it's always a madhouse. I grew up in Farmer's Markets... I don't remember mom tearing out her hair or threatening to thrash us. But those were different times. It wasn't as crowded in our little town. And we were a bit older. Or I have a selective memory. (Note to self: call mom.)
We made it out of the Market alive but not quite sane and herded the
We drove fairly aimlessly... 30 minutes in one direction, then back and veering off and circling around. We went down roads we hadn't been on in years. Followed one until it ended at a golf course on the ocean. When I started muttering, Elliot piped up from the back seat, "All roads have to end somewhere, mama!". Sage little creature. We meandered around until we ended up at a beach. And then the
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| He promises me he was saving Felix, not getting ready to toss him! |
The tides were coming in, quickly. My boys made a wall to buy themselves some time. It was a valiant effort. But, predictably, an epic fail. There might have also been some burying of a small child in the sand, necessitating a speedy save when the area was flooded.
Had a gourmet supper of hotdogs and fries on a boardwalk and then came home, wiped. And saw that most of our
We sure soaked up the sun, and I'll sleep good tonight. (You hear that boys - stay in your own freaking rooms, ok!) And hopefully we can do it all again real soon.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Primary Relativity
Took Elliot for his primary orientation this morning. He alternated between being excitedly curious and being a clingy, refusing mess. We arrived a few minutes early, getting the lay of the land. This school reminds me of a rabbit warren or an ant farm There are staircases and hallways that go everywhere! Walking through the main door, you are on a landing with 2 staircases directly in front of you - one up, one down - and yet another flight of stairs going down to the right, into the gym.
We went down to the gym to look for Elliot's name on a wall for his group for the morning. He was in the blue section and I sucked in my breath, sure he was going to freak out and demand to be in the red group. But he kept his cool. Mostly. He started climbing me, pulling on my coat, standing on my coffee cup. Student volunteers located his name tag and gave him a bag of books and information supplied by the school board. Then we waited. He sat on my lap.
Then we went to the music room for his first mini-class of the morning. And the parents were told to say goodbye. We could leave the school if we provided them with a contact number, or we could go up to the library for coffee and snacks. I found a staircase and followed it up, knowing I would come out on the main level but not knowing where. I followed the main hall until something looked familiar, walked up a half flight of stairs to a level with a few classrooms, then up another half to the top floor.
I met some other parents, we talked about our kids and parenting and plans for the summer. Many of the children in this district have doctors and lawyers and government officials for parents. And cottages and summer homes scattered about the province. Yes, it's intimidating. But whatever. That's my own deal.
After 3 calorie-filled hours (And I only had 3 of the mini treats, which added up to 340 calories! Eep! But I'm kinda proud of myself for remaining on the other side of the room and not scarfing them down two at a time like I really wanted to.) I went down to collect Elliot from a basement classroom since it was too cool and misty outside for them to have their playground session. As soon as I walked in, the instructor piped up with an amazed, "He's smart!" I nodded and said, "Yep." So blasé. But they were evaluating the kids, informally, to help slot them in to the appropriate class in the fall. There's a full primary class (with the awesome teacher we already know) and a primary/one split with a new, male teacher. We're cautiously hoping for the split.
Apparently he had a wonderful time and he did tell me about some of the sessions (Music, gym, an eye exam, class time and free play.) But as we packed up and headed outside, he started crying, saying he didn't want to go back to school - neither the big school we'd just left, nor the preschool we were headed to so he could have lunch and a rest since I needed toblog and mess around on the internetz work. I promised to pick him up early. And I will. Maybe. After some hugging and clinging and crow-barring off the front porch of the preschool, and the reading of a book, and more hugging and some hand holding whilst hand washing, he settled for lunch with his friends and I was free.
I really should do some work. Deadlines and all that. Clients counting on me. I just want a nap. Silly to have gone to bed so late. And then the kids got up so freaking early. Felix was singing Isty Bitsy Spider just before 6am. Oh, and have you discovered Amber Dusick yet? No? GO NOW!!!!
See - the internetz, they entice me and go on forever in all directions. Not safe for Rainy!
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| Escher's Relativity - or Elliot's new school?? |
Then we went to the music room for his first mini-class of the morning. And the parents were told to say goodbye. We could leave the school if we provided them with a contact number, or we could go up to the library for coffee and snacks. I found a staircase and followed it up, knowing I would come out on the main level but not knowing where. I followed the main hall until something looked familiar, walked up a half flight of stairs to a level with a few classrooms, then up another half to the top floor.
I met some other parents, we talked about our kids and parenting and plans for the summer. Many of the children in this district have doctors and lawyers and government officials for parents. And cottages and summer homes scattered about the province. Yes, it's intimidating. But whatever. That's my own deal.
After 3 calorie-filled hours (And I only had 3 of the mini treats, which added up to 340 calories! Eep! But I'm kinda proud of myself for remaining on the other side of the room and not scarfing them down two at a time like I really wanted to.) I went down to collect Elliot from a basement classroom since it was too cool and misty outside for them to have their playground session. As soon as I walked in, the instructor piped up with an amazed, "He's smart!" I nodded and said, "Yep." So blasé. But they were evaluating the kids, informally, to help slot them in to the appropriate class in the fall. There's a full primary class (with the awesome teacher we already know) and a primary/one split with a new, male teacher. We're cautiously hoping for the split.
Apparently he had a wonderful time and he did tell me about some of the sessions (Music, gym, an eye exam, class time and free play.) But as we packed up and headed outside, he started crying, saying he didn't want to go back to school - neither the big school we'd just left, nor the preschool we were headed to so he could have lunch and a rest since I needed to
I really should do some work. Deadlines and all that. Clients counting on me. I just want a nap. Silly to have gone to bed so late. And then the kids got up so freaking early. Felix was singing Isty Bitsy Spider just before 6am. Oh, and have you discovered Amber Dusick yet? No? GO NOW!!!!
See - the internetz, they entice me and go on forever in all directions. Not safe for Rainy!
I will always remember...
I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me!
Saturday January 1st, 1994
DD
Well. Happy New Year. It is 12:28 am. I will always remember 1993 as my 14th year. (Duh!) A year of many crushes. First J, then K, then (sorta) E (NOT!), then J, then J, then J, then A, then N, then finally M.
1993 was the year C bounced off the rings in gym, the year of my first kiss, my first prom date. It was the year I found K passed out on the floor and the year I quit my first job. I will always remember it as the year I got my second and 3rd earring holes done, dyed my hair blue (for Halloween) and then purple (yesterday, for fun) and also the year I pierced my hand. (Edit: The webbing between my thumb and index finger. Particularly dumb since there's a major vein there...) I did it myself Thursday night with a safety pin & ice. Now there's a diamond stud in it. But most of all, 1993 was my year for first love. I love M so much. I know it won't change. Not for a long time.
My new years resolution is:
1. Stay with M forever & ever
2. Get another job
3. Get in shape; exercise; lose weight, as much as possible
1993 was also the year my 2 best friends moved away.
Love,
Rainy
Saturday, January 22, 1994
DD,
Exams have started. I wrote English yesterday and I got Social Studies on Monday.
M has come over for the past 2 Saturdays.
R came up this Saturday. Last night, we dyed my hair. The dye was called burgundy but it came out more magenta. I love it!
The earring fell out of my hand. It was in for 3 weeks & then the skin around it died. Oh well.
Anyway, gotta study!
~Rainy
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
25 lbs
My cardiovascular health is greatly improved. I can run - at 5.2 to 5.6, even punching it up to 6 mph - for a full 30 minutes now, and then I really only stop due to time constraints. I've even been running outside. We were late for gymnastics class on Sunday and instead of taking the car, (The. Car. We finally own a car!!) I tossed the boys in the double jogger and ran the whole way there - typically a 30 minute/2 km walk - arriving 10 minutes early for class. And today, the plan was to go to the library. I knew I wasn't going to get a work out in and time was tight - had to get back home, make supper and feed the boys before the sitter arrived so we could go to the parent-teacher meeting at Felix's daycare. (They had glowing things to say, he's a very happy, patient, well loved child. They've apparently never met the Screaming Pterodactyl of Doom.) So I again tossed them in the stroller and ran 3.3 km in the other direction.
Taking the car downtown at that time of day wasn't even an option. Parking would have been a nightmare and then we'd have been stuck in rush hour traffic coming home which gives me road rage and a rash.
But I did it and felt great! Pacing myself is tricky outside. And running while pushing 50+ lbs of kid in a hugeass stroller is no easy feat, either. I much prefer the treadmill. But I do love the fresh air.
(Who am I trying to kid? I live in the city. There's no fresh air here!)
I'm seeing more shades of our summer. Me running with both kids confined. Sounds like a great contingency plan. Toss in some munchies for them and an iPod for me and we're in business all day, baby! I've given myself a new mini goal... need to drop 4.5 more pounds before the boys are done daycare and preschool on the 29th. Then I'll only have 1 more pound left to shed. Well, 3, actually, since I'd much rather be under goal, as I know it'll spring back up. I only need to look at chocolate and I've gained a pound. I'm the person who ate a 2 lb bag of chocolate covered raisins and gained 5. True story.
And now I see that I'm already encroaching on the time my schedule tells me is 'hubby time'...What - you don't schedule? ... so I best hightail myself away from this computer before he comes looking for me. If he's awake, that is. It's awfully quiet up there. I think everyone may actually be asleep. Which is awesome.
Maybe tomorrow will be the day I wake up and FEEL 25 pounds lighter. Please?
Friday, June 3, 2011
No "words"
I kept a diary as a girl, like many. I suppose this blog is my grown up version, also like many. I came across one of my old diaries while cleaning the other day and thought I'd share a few pieces with you, Cringe-style! As I flipped through it, I was saddened by the angst I was expressing, the cursing, the hating, the self-depreciating and self-harming, the need to be loved, to have a boyfriend, to fit in. But I'm glad I had an outlet, the presence of mind to write it all out. Of course, reading it now that nearly 20 years have passed, I am cringing at my words and want to grab hold of that 14 year old and give her a big hug and protect her from the world, and herself. She obviously needed it. I remember I destroyed a couple of my early diaries, from when I was even younger. Those are the ones I wish I had... this teen drama is still all too fresh in my mind. I'm implementing FlashBack Fridays. Come cringe with me!
October 18, 1993
DD,
I wrecked it again. Yep... the eternal idiot strikes again. I wrote M a note. (Will I ever learn?) I asked him out in it. I knew he didn't want a relationship now. Damn. I wrecked it.
His sister called me and said he doesn't want a relationship (duh) & he just wants to be friends. Shit. I've gotta face him on Friday (K&Cs party... he's definitely coming) and also on Saturday (his sister's party). I really embarrassed myself.
When will I learn?
Later,
Rainy
October 25, 1993
Me & M are going out!! (Not officially... no "words" have been said). He called me tonight & we talked for an hour. At his sister's party, right before I left, I kissed him. It was nice. On the phone, he said I took him off guard.
Well, I gotta go. Mom's comin' & she's mad at me already for talking to M instead of cleaning my room.
See ya!
Rainy
October 18, 1993
DD,
I wrecked it again. Yep... the eternal idiot strikes again. I wrote M a note. (Will I ever learn?) I asked him out in it. I knew he didn't want a relationship now. Damn. I wrecked it.
His sister called me and said he doesn't want a relationship (duh) & he just wants to be friends. Shit. I've gotta face him on Friday (K&Cs party... he's definitely coming) and also on Saturday (his sister's party). I really embarrassed myself.
When will I learn?
Later,
Rainy
October 25, 1993
Me & M are going out!! (Not officially... no "words" have been said). He called me tonight & we talked for an hour. At his sister's party, right before I left, I kissed him. It was nice. On the phone, he said I took him off guard.
Well, I gotta go. Mom's comin' & she's mad at me already for talking to M instead of cleaning my room.
See ya!
Rainy
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