June 2008

From now on – from THIS MOMENT FORWARD – I am going to strive to only wear clothing made from this fabric. Because THAT? Is way better than the best antidepressant in the ENTIRE WORLD.

He survived – thrived, I dare say – and has announced that he no longer wishes to return to his old school.

Ever. No more! He is done! That place is OLD now, man!

All good.. except that he still has one week of school left to go, so, like, yeah.. he’ll be returning.

I suggested, to make it seem more appealing, that he could tell his “old teacher” about the new school and that she’d probably be really excited for him. He blinked a few times, stared at me blankly, then said, “You can tell her, Mom.”

I see.

The only hitch in the day – beyond my feeling-of-being-punched and the endless weeping – is that I also felt like a complete outsider with all of the other moms that were waiting for their kids. They all know each other since they all have kids in JK together and they’ve been meeting up daily for months. So I loitered and tried to make eye contact and finally just shrugged and leaned against a post for a while.

And when Maymo and I went down to the playground to hang out for a bit, it didn’t get any better.

At one point I was literally standing three feet away from a group of moms who were sharing a bench and talking while their kids played with mine.

I said hello. They ignored me.

Sooooo.. yeah. Not liking that feeling too much. Not at all, in fact. I felt like *I* was the one starting at a new school, for pete’s sake!

But, back to the important part, the kid had a FABULOUS time. He made a clock out of a paper plate! He made a friend named Mitch! He ran around! and then he talked in exclamation points for the rest of the day!

I took him to Zellers (what can I say, he LOVES that place) for lunch. He ate pogos and curly fries. I ate a BLT. We drew pictures and drank chocolate milk and talked about his day. And it was good.

Let’s hope the enthusiasm continues when he starts at his new school, officially, in September.

This morning I took Maymo to visit his Senior Kindergarten class – at the same school where Oldest One and Middle One go every day.

I know the school. I know the office administrator and the principal.

His teacher seems quite nice.

But I do not like this ONE BIT.

I gave him a HUGE hug and told him I’d pick him up at 11:30. I told him to have fun and meet some new friends and have a really good time. He was cheerful and perhaps a bit apprehensive (but not much) and excited.

His teacher then took him by the hand and lead him down the hallway. Maymo kept turning around saying, “Okay Mom! Bye Mom!” and every time he said the word “mom” it was like someone punching me in the gut over and over again.

And once he was out of sight, heading toward his classroom with his teacher, I turned and walked back to the car.

And I cried the whole damned way.

I am totally not equipped for motherhood.

Maymo is a big fan of getting things done while no one is looking.

If we ask him to put his jammas on, for example, he’ll say,”DON’T LOOK!” and, while we’ve got our eyes closed, he’ll quickly change and then shout, “TA-DA!” while dancing around in his jammas.

If we ask him to please eat his vegetables, he’ll say, “DON’T LOOK!” and then, while our eyes are closed, he’ll devour every last bite.

Except last night.

Last night we were eating dinner and Maymo said, “Mom! Don’t look!” which made me think he was going to eat the veggies and get it over with for the evening.

Instead, before I had even closed my eyes fully, he grabbed a hand full and tossed them on the floor for the dogs to eat.

When I gasped and said, “Hey! We don’t feed the dogs at the table!” he looked perplexed and said, “But.. I didn’t!”

His brothers shouted, “YES YOU DID!” and I shouted, “YES YOU DID!” and he looked further perplexed.

“But.. I said… DON’T LOOK, MOM!” he said.

Clearly has has forgotten that his brothers have eyeballs, that the dogs eat LOUDLY and that the sound of veggies raining down on the hardwood floor is a bit of a giveaway.

But he seriously looked STUNNED that we knew he had done it.

Four year olds ROCK.

We’re eating dinner and there’s a whole heap of garlic bread left in the bowl that Maymo would really, really, REALLY like to eat.

But first he has to finish his vegetables.

He’s already had three bits of bread, y’see.

So I say to Maymo, “If you finish those veggies, you can have another piece of garlic bread! But if you don’t finish the veggies, *I* will eat the garlic bread. All of it! ALL!” while we both giggle.

Middle One chimes in and says, “No you won’t! You won’t eat all the garlic bread! You’d get FAT!”

To which I reply, “I already AM fat, honey!”

And both Middle One and Oldest One shout, “NO! YOU’RE NOT!”

I was a bit speechless, to be honest, since the truth is that I am not a skinny woman. I’m okay with it. I don’t make disparaging remarks about my weight around the kids – EVER – but I do know that I am not thin. I’m just.. me.

My first thought is that Coffee has somehow gotten to them – but I can’t imagine him whispering, “Kids? If your mother ever calls herself fat, you must shout NO! at the top of your lungs, ok?”

My second thought is, “Are these kids blind? Or do they think I’m fishing for compliments?”

And then Oldest One looked at me and says, “You’re not fat. If you want to see fat, just Google “FAT!” and you’ll see fat! FAT!”

God Bless the Internet.

This morning I wrote a thank you card for something that happened a little more than two months ago.

I have thought about this thank you note almost daily for the past few months – that should count for something, right? No?

Every time I planned to write in the little card, something would pop up.

Sometimes it was a kid needing something, or a task that had more urgency than the card. Sometimes it was simply that I couldn’t think coherently enough to write a note that would convey what I needed/wanted to say.

Sometimes I felt overwhelmed by the fact that it was two months late. How the hell do you say “thanks!” after all that time without sounding like an idiot?

This morning I just sucked it up and wrote it out and put it in the envelope with a stamp.

Lately it feels more and more like my life has a two month delay attached.

I’ll think of something I need to do – or want to do – and then spend two months trying to find time or motivation to do that thing.

Projects aren’t started, birthday cards are late (or totally missed), thank-you notes remain unsent, emails are unanswered, phone calls aren’t made and things sit in stacks all over the house waiting for me to deal with them.

The flip side, I suppose, is that I’m starting to feel like I’ve got the kids’ lives under control.

I’m remembering that Thursday is Maymo’s library day and Monday is his swimming day.

I’m remembering to pack lunches the night before and to sign all the permission forms and notices quickly.

I’m remembering to prompt for toothbrushing and, for the most part, I’m managing to get Maymo in bed on time.

All the laundry gets done on Sundays for the kids and I haven’t missed out on any pizza-day payments.

But my own life? Ha. Oh, ha ha.

The car has needed servicing (well, a regularly scheduled checkup, at least) for a few months. I need to call for an estimate to get the dent fixed in the side.

I can’t remember the last time I waxed my eyebrows. My hair needs to be trimmed. I haven’t even sorted through my summer clothes.

The only thing keeping me from losing my mind about the two month delay is that fact that summer is coming up and I intend to let the kids run wild and ragged around the ‘hood while I attempt to catch up a bit.

This summer will not see me being the social director or the party planner. No. I’m going for the “benign neglect” form of parenting – the one who provides food and shelter and clean clothes, yes, but who says things like, “Sure, you can got to the park as long as you come home when you get hungry.”

Of course, with my current delays, I should have the whole “summer parenting” thing under control by the end of August. Just in time for them to go back to school again…

I went to pick Maymo up at school this morning, wearing my new capris.

I wore them specifically because I wanted to get some “in person” advice from the employees at the Fabricland right next to Maymo’s school about how much to taper them and where, exactly, to start.

After getting said advice, and feeling confident that I could make the changes, I stood outside May’s classroom to wait for him.

He appeared, saw me standing there, and started shouting, “EVERYBODY LOOK! LOOK AT MY MOM’S SHORTS!”

Within 10 seconds, his ENTIRE class was crowded around the door peering out at my “shorts”. They grinned at me. They jumped around.

There’s a reason why I really like 4 year olds. What other demographic would be so THRILLED about this? Hell, they didn’t even know I had MADE them.. they were just going right along with Maymo’s enthusiasm for.. my shorts.

Father’s Day – today! – makes me miss my Dad very much. I don’t suppose that’s much of a surprise, right?

It seems profoundly unfair that I’ve got a house full of boys and no local grandfather to hang out with them, adore them, and otherwise dote on them. I know my Dad would love every single bit of the kids as much as Coffee and I do. It makes me sad that my kids will never know my Dad, too, so I try to do for the kids what my Dad did for me. Pass the torch, so to speak.

–

I don’t often talk about Coffee and his fathering-style, mostly because I try to avoid speaking for him on my blog.

But the truth is that Coffee is a far better parent than I am – honestly – with his boatloads of patience and upper body strength and his enjoyment of sharing new things with the kids. I no longer have to remind myself to ‘step back’ when he’s alone with the kids, lest I meddle. He’s got the parenting thing DOWN and he knows what he’s doing.

And while he’s reading stories and helping with showers and making pancakes, he still manages to be an amazing husband and partner.

I knew I was lucky when I fell in love with him. I knew I was lucky when we married.

And I know, again, how lucky I am to have him as my co-parent. I have no complaints to utter, no “wish he woulds” to throw around.

Believe me, I know how lucky I am.

Happy First Father’s Day, Coffee!

–

Yesterday we took the kids for a nice long hike around the Elora Gorge. Everyone had a good time, it seems, and we returned home somewhat tired and dirty and, in Coffee’s case, covered in mosquito bites. The overwhelming statement was, “Let’s do THAT again!”

Luckily, we now have a season’s pass to the Conservation Areas stuck to the windshield of my car.

On the drive home we passed a sign for a Mennonite farm selling maple syrup which led to a quick detour. We came home with 4L of medium syrup that just about made me cry when I took the first taste. Nom nom. This morning we ate pancakes, of course.

It was a really good day.

–

For a few days now, I’ve had my right wrist all wrapped up in an Ace bandage. Coffee blames the whippersnipper (to which I stuck out my tongue because, hello? no chance I’m going to stop using it!) and he also lays some blame on excessive mouse usage on my computer.

It hurts, regardless of the cause, and I am displeased with my inability to DO anything as a result of the pain and the bandage.

It’s also putting a crimp in my plans to do some serious sewing because while I can guide the fabric around I totally can’t do any cutting even with my rotary cutter.

And, damn, I can’t wash anything or pick anything up or otherwise do much that’s useful. Strangely, this part doesn’t bother me much…

–

Laundry is started and Coffee is out at the store with Maymo and life is pretty darned good around these parts today.

I love weekends.

I managed to get most of (a new pair of) my capris sewn last night. Today I need to figure out what length I want ‘em and then get a nice neat hem in place. Here’s hoping they stay together..

Now, however, I’m trying to find an online resource for how to slightly taper the legs of the capris – below the knee – for the next pair that I make. They’re a little.. flouffy.

Any ideas?

Last night I started daydreaming about renovating the garage (oh yeah!) into a sweet little sewing spot/craft area for me to hang out in.

I’d put in a big cutting table and have my sewing machine always open – just like I said in my previous daydreaming post. And I’d throw in a futon so Coffee could come and “visit”.

My thinking on this is that when the kids are older and no longer need the indoor playroom I can move back (in there!) and let the kids have the garage for hanging out with their friends.

Brilliant, no?

There are just a few details that need figuring – like where the hell all the crap in the garage would be stored; how I’d afford to renovate the garage; what I’d do for heating/cooling; how I’d install lights; and where would all the little creatures move to that currently live in the garage?

But still, it’s nice to daydream…

This weekend I’d like to make a few mug corsets (people want them!) and finish up my capris (and maybe another pair?) and I have this sweet pattern for a retro apron that I want to sew up, too.

Is it just me, or has this week taken FOREVER to go by? Yeeesh.