Posts Tagged ‘random thoughts’

Being sick makes you pretty thankful

I know Canadian Thanksgiving has come and gone but all the Thanksgiving posts and tweets from my friends in the United States have me thinking. Sitting on the kitchen floor with my iPhone waiting for my kid’s store bought pizza lunch to cook, I realize all the things I’m truly grateful for when I’m not well:

  • the already prepared food section of the grocery store so my kids can have a lunch consisting of more than crackers and the pickles in the bottom of the pickle jar.
  • the television, even without cable, that so aptly turns my kids into zombies and gives me an hour or two to sleep without interruptions.
  • the twitterverse that entertains, amuses, consoles and connects me to the outside world from the comfort of my fuzzy PJs and down comforter.
  • the age and number of kids I have so they can care for and entertain themselves in a pinch. I can’t imagine having to take care of an infant or having just one child that needs to be entertained. My seven-year old daughter made her younger brother and sister breakfast, even if it did include items covered in powdered sugar. I love them.
  • the seat heaters in my van that keeps the chill away as I make an emergency milk run to the grocery store. I could have fallen asleep in the parking lot all toasty warm if it wasn’t for those three kids bugging to get our of the van.

Being under the weather isn’t fun when you’re a mom and your responsibility don’t disappear, but at least these things make it doable until I’m on my feet again tomorrow. Because we all know mom’s have the incredible ability to be taken out by a bug for one day only. Something else I’m thankful for.

Here a blog, there a blog

So you’ve been reading my blog and you still want more? Well, do you know I also have a blog over at Everything Mom? It’s called And another thought and it covers, well, other thoughts, thoughts usually not found here.

For example:

The downside to kids that read

I know reading is important and all parents encourage their kids and are thrilled when their kids can read well on their own. But there are drawbacks. read more

Creating space for kids

I took a course at Mothercraft with the crazy notion of opening my own in home daycare. Well, obviously that didn’t happen but the course wasn’t a complete waste. I gathered some great tips on how to set-up play/learning space for multi-aged kids. read more

I’m f@#king angry

It’s bound to happen. No matter how careful you are around your kids, one of those words are going to come out of your mouth. And if not your mouth, someone elses. And next thing you know it’s coming out of your child’s mouth. read more

Things I swore I’d never say as a parent

There were many things my parent said when I was young that I’m sure I didn’t agree with. And I remember, like all kids, saying I’d never say these things to my kids when I was a mom. Well, I’m a mom now. read more

If you enjoy these random thoughts, be sure to visit my blog And another thought for more randomness.  You can also subscribe to the blogs feed also

Training for the Saturday Boy’s Club

Saturday Boys Club in training

Saturday Boys Club in training (2yo)

Women have been known to belong to a number of different social clubs based on their interests: book club, wine tasting club, yoga group, running group and so on. But woman aren’t the only ones. If you’re married, your husband is probably a member of the Saturday Boy’s Club. You see them out on their own but in proximity of other guys. They look at table saws, they compare drill bits and share renovation stories. They always seem to come up with an excuse to get away for their not so secret meetings at the local Rona or Home Depot.

I always thought this was a club guys become a part of when they got married. An excuse to escape requirements at home. A place to enjoy their like-minded company.

But then I made a trip to Rona the other day with my son. He had to sit on and try each of the display toilets. He ran back and forth past the motion sensor set lights. He compared screw lengths and hammered the store shelves. And then it occurred to me… a love of tools and hardware stores isn’t something that guys escape to, but something they learn from a young age.

I realized I was raising a future member of the Saturday Boy’s Club.

Saying Sorry can Mean Much More

I’m finding as my kids get older and more independent, their own will is coming through loud and strong. In most cases this is a good thing. As a parent you hope you’re raising your kids to be determined and stand up for what they believe. But I don’t appreciate it when it comes out as defiance, not doing chores or talking back.

It’s kind of funny, when I was working as a multimedia Project Manager I had to deal with many different personalities and get them to work towards completing a project on time and within budget. Why do I find it easier to deal with adult conflict in a calm and controlled manner? Why do my kids bring out my agitated, impatient side?

I am making an effort to try and remain calm when dealing with my kid’s defiant stage. I know they’re growing and still sorting out boundaries and responses. But yelling at my seven year old daughter that her behaviour was inappropriate was, well, inappropriate. It ended with her slamming her bedroom door and me slamming the bathroom door. But I knew standing there that I had made a big error. I’m the adult and the parent. How can I expect my children to behave properly, resolve a disagreement calmly, when I can’t seem to do it myself. I knew what I had to do.

I went and apologized for my behaviour. I explained that I wasn’t happy with something she did and it’s okay to feel that way, but the way I expressed my displeasure wasn’t right. It was hard to do. As a parent we’re suppose to always be right, not make mistakes, at least no in front of our kids. But I was wrong and an apology was in order. I hope next time I’ll remember to keep my cool and set a better example for my kids. I hope my kids have learned that even moms loose their cool. That happens, to everyone. But when it does you need to apologize and make things right.

The hardest decision, so far

So my birthday is coming up this fall and over the last mmhmph years I’ve had to make a lot of decisions: getting married to the man I was living with, buying a car instead of using the public transit, leaving the job I knew for the job I didn’t, leaving the large inexpensive apartment for a larger more expensive house. But the hardest decision I’ve had to make so far, we’ve had to make so far, was the decision to have a baby, our first baby.

Every time we talked about having kids, it just never seemed to be the right time.

After getting married having a baby was the furthermost thing from our mind. I mean we just got married and wanted to spend some time together, just us. First anniversary, we bought a car and were enjoying the freedom to travel. Two years later we adopted second cat who ended up being pregnant and having six kittens. Taking care of those kittens confirmed we weren’t ready to take care of kids (the mother cat was sick and we had to feed them manually every 6hrs). Fifth anniversary and we were getting ready to move into our first house. We were enjoying renovating and hanging out with our friends.

Then there was work. We were just out of school when we got married and wanted to establish ourselves in our jobs. Then in our jobs, we wanted to get the next pay raise. There was always something. Then one day, eight years being married, we realized that there would always be something. If we wanted to have kids we just had to do it. And next thing we knew we were expecting our first child.

It's.... a baby

It's.... a baby

I knew I’d encounter difficult decisions in life, but somehow I never thought the decision to have kids would have been it. Was it a hard decision for you?

Who are you?

There are many ways you can tell it’s Spring, beyond just the date on your calendar: your mailbox is full of flyers from real estate agents looking to list your home or sell you a home or both, construction crews seem to be doing road work along your everyday road routes, the ice-cream truck now parks outside your house just as you’re getting dinner ready and many other not so pleasant signs. Okay, I’m not a fan of Spring.

But there is one sign of Spring that isn’t terrible. I’ve noticed it recently, people emerging from their hibernation. I’m not talking about those people coming out of their house after being shut-in during the cold months. I’m talking those who’ve released themselves from the mobile caves: the hats and scarves and bulky snow jackets. I’ve seen a lot of them at the school yard. People, parents or caregivers I’m assuming, that have been reduced to descriptions by their winter attire like gray lump mom with the pink pompom hat or puffy blue dad or the multi-coloured peeker.

With outer layers stripped away I don’t recognize anyone. One parent tried to strike up a conversation in the school yard while waiting for our kids to be released. Her mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything because I was preoccupied with trying to figure out who she was. I held my hands up in front of my face like trying to frame something for a photo revealing only her eyes. Ah, multi-coloured peeker.

Spring. People look thinner, taller, happier. It’s like rediscovering everyone all over again. Nothing wrong with that.

A therapeutic outlet

So with my daughter’s birthday happening this last weekend, I’ve fallen behind on a lot of my writing, including my Writer’s Digest entries for the Poem-A-Day competition I’ve been participating in. Well yesterday’s prompt was to write an angry poem. At first I thought this would be difficult. Not because I don’t get angry, but usually by the time I sit to write about being angry, the moment has passed.

But as I read through some of the other poem’s people submitted I was reminded of an incident that occurred to me this weekend when I was out. I was turning at an intersection, the street was clear. I was halfway through the crosswalk when a pedestrian decided to cross, at an angle, outside of the crosswalk, but in front of me. He was so annoyed with that he kicked the back of my van and put a crack in my tail light. I was furious, but I had the three kids with me so what could I do. I’ve been trying hard to behave myself when driving with the kids and this can be hard on some days.

I’ve been both inside the car and outside and I’ve encountered many pedestrians that seem to think they’re above everyone else around them. And it drives me nuts. So now I had something to write about. And actually writing about it was kind of therapeutic (sort of).

Pedestrian ass

 

You walk four or five abreast

letting no one get by.

 

You cross in the middle of the road

causing cars to swerve.

 

You plow your way through

knocking people without apology.

 

You wade out looking for your bus

stopping vehicles from turning.

 

You are ignorant of anyone around you.

You’re an ass.

Some things I just can’t part with

I’m sure we all have something tucked away in a box or buried in the back of a drawer. Something that’s old or doesn’t work properly. Something that’s too small or in need of repair. Something we’ll never use, that’s just taking up space, yet we just can’t bring ourselves to get ride of it.

I have just such an item. A bath towel. A green, faded, frayed, ripped bath towel.

A family treasure? Maybe not.

A family treasure? Maybe not.

It’s not because I’m cheap and can’t afford a new one; towels are pretty inexpensive. It’s not because I’m a super sewer and plan to repair it; I don’t even think I own a needle or thread. No, I can’t seem to let go of this towel because it makes me laugh.

Okay, maybe a little background information is needed. When my husband and I were younger (before the kids, before the house, before the marriage), we shared a one-bedroom apartment together. We were lucky to have laundry facilities in the basement. We didn’t know how lucky until they weren’t working one day. So off to the laundry mat we trecked (oh, this was before our car too).

Actually it wasn’t that bad. It was a sunny day and we bought veal sandwiches from a local deli while our clothes washed. Before we knew it, our clothes were done. My husband and I each took a machine to empty and fold. As I paired socks from the dryer, it happened

RRIIPP

I looked up at my hubby, who was folding a towel. The towel was stitched with a gather near the bottom as a design feature, I guess. He had pulled the towel out and thought it was all bunched up from being in the dryer and pulled it straight to fold it. Instead he was pulling the gather out. The towel now had little holes all along the gather stitch.

I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard. We eventually bought new towels to replace this one, but when it came to throwing it in the garbage, I just couldn’t do it. I don’t put it out in our bathroom. But it does sit in our hall cupboard. And every time I pull it out by accident I can’t help but remember our laundry mat adventure.

I don’t know if my kids will be as thrilled about the towel when I will it to one of them.

Today’s poem prompt for the Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day is about a memory and this one sprang to mind. What item(s) do you have hiding in your place that you will never part with because of the memories it stirs?

That Towel

We lived together
in a one bedroom apartment.
The washers weren’t working.

We walked together
to the laundry mat.
Hefty bags over our shoulders.

We ate together
waiting for the machines to stop.
Veal sandwiches wrapped in foil.

We worked together
emptying the dryer.
Folding clothes in a pile.

RRRIIIPPP

We laughed together
at the towel we tore.
Holes appearing all along the seams.

Where’s the line between saving and wasting your time

After I dropped my son off for his afternoon kindergarten class, my youngest daughter and I walked over to the grocery store around the corner to pick up a few things. We live in the big city, but our neighbourhood feels very small town (with three times as many houses and cars of course). We spend most of our time in our neighbourhood. We walk to school, to the local library, grocery store, convenience store, video store, movie theatre and soon to open, veterinary clinic.

Don’t get me wrong, I like my neighbourhood and all but I still want to move far away from the big city. So the walk made me think how much I would miss having everything so close and convenient. I know there are small towns with shops close by, but when I’m talking about moving out of the city, I’m talking country home with land, population 100. Probably not too many shops to walk to in those areas. I was thinking how I’d have to get use to driving everywhere to get things, even a replacement bag of milk (‘cuz no matter how much land I have, I’m never owning a cow).

My sister lives in the country, sandwiched between two farms. Since her husband works in town he does most of the shopping. They are living on a limited budget and have four kids in the family, so there’s no splurging when it comes to grocery shopping. After flipping through the grocery flyers, my sister’s husband drives from store to store (and since most towns only have one store, this actually means driving from town to town). All just to save a few cents on milk and apples. Now I’m no economics major, but how much are you really saving? The cost of driving from town to town must be higher than this weeks deal at Foodland. Don’t you think?

I’m all for saving and I know if we do get out of the big city it will mean giving up the big money and making adjustments. I hope along the way I don’t lose my common sense. [mental note: refer to this blog if I feel the need to drive more than 20km for a savings of $0.10]