tell me no lies

Arrrrgggghhhh. For the third time in her life, Elizabeth is grounded. For what? Lying to me about where her toothpaste was this morning. Sounds absurd, huh? But there it is. Her sisters wanted to borrow her toothpaste - since theirs was empty, and she hid it from them. More specifically, she hid it in her sister's room, in a basket that Kate keeps her softball gear in. I discovered all this after the twins came to me and said Elizabeth wouldn't share her toothpaste. I asked her to do so, and back came the twins minutes later to tell me that now the toothpaste was apparently missing. Upon questioning Elizabeth - and let me tell you I was very clear that I was very unhappy to be dealing with this - she denied knowledge of said toothpaste's whereabouts. Repeatedly. Finally, after I threatened her with a spanking - which I have not had to administer to her more times than you can count on one hand in her entire life - she came clean and retrieved the toothpaste from the basket.

I hate lying. Almost everything that really really upsets me/pisses me off/angers me hugely has something to do with lying. It completely destroys my ability to trust. And I am by nature a trusting soul. I have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt. It's my positive glass half full mindset. Which I guess is why it upsets me so much when I am lied to. The other thing that really sets me off is related to respect, and the lack of it that is shown in so many situations. Of which I believe lying is one.

Anyway, she is grounded for a month. No playdates, no birthday parties, no TV, no video games. She is only allowed to leave her room to use the bathroom, to eat, or do chores. I plan to have her picking up a lot of dog poop just to make sure she doesn't feel I am denying her opportunities for fresh air.

Am I over reacting? I don't think so. I know it was just toothpaste, but it might as well have been a hundred dollars as far as I'm concerned. I will not tolerate lies, and everyone in this house needs to understand that. Everyone.

So I guess I have a personal slave for the next month, which sounds not so bad except that I feel so shitty about the whole thing...damn, sometimes it really sucks to be consistent and follow through...

ups and downs

I guess I am so surrounded by my girls that I tend to assume that moodiness is a female specific trait sometimes. Then Mike comes home after a not so great day, and I have to remind myself that grumbling, drama and negativity are definitely not just for women. In fact, sometimes he is the worst of all of us, when it comes to being in a crappy mood. When he's down, he's really down, and then it generally manifests into anger. Anger at what someone on the tv says, anger at the new dog who unfortunately for Mike happens to be afraid of men, anger at my inability to respond to his mood in a way that pleases him. Once he gets on a roll, it's hard to stop the ride. If I can't bring him down, which I often can't because my own mood is one of exasperation, and generally just being really annoyed that he is being a shit, then it escalates into a rant of some kind, which I then just have to walk away from.
Okay, so we are all moody from time to time. And that in itself is not necessarily a terrible thing. Life is about balance, right? You need some downs now and then to appreciate the ups. The trick, to me, is to figure out when and how to pull out of a "down" mood, and get back to an "up". There's a great line in a great song by Gotye that goes like this,

"You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness."

I think that sums it up perfectly. We all have our sad moments, but some of us have sad hours, even sad days, or worse. I think I live with at least two people who struggle with an overabundance of sadness, and I wonder, are they happiest when they're unhappy? Sometimes it seems that way. It almost seems like they fear happiness, like it's too good to be true and it's sure to end at any moment, so why get too attached to it?

Ugh. Sometimes it's overwhelming. I am not always a happy person by any means, I get bitchy and cranky and tired, especially at the end of the day, just like lots of people. But I do feel that I am the glass half full person in my marriage. And I would say that two of my daughters are like me in that respect. The third, well, she was just one of those people born with a thundercloud over her head. Her father is the same, although it took me a long time to realize that. I suppose we all need each other, or we upbeat types would just be happy all the time...hmmm. That last sentence smacks of desperate rationalization. A classic comment from a classic "look on the bright side" person.

Oh well. Onwards and upwards.

anger management

How many times have I heard myself say "don't play with the doors! Leave the doors alone! Don't slam doors! Someone's going to lose a finger!!!!" ???

Well, it's finally happened. In a classic moody girl fashion, the twins were having an argument over who got to use the bathroom first before we all headed to the neighborhood pool. It was the first day of a two week long spring break, and I had a house full of girls aged 7 - 10, restless and in need of entertainment. I had announced we were going swimming, and went upstairs to put on my bathing suit, thinking I would get a little swim workout in myself whilst the kids goofed off in the "fun" pool. I could hear the voices from the bathroom below, gradually raising in volume as a typical scenario played out - as in I'M going to the bathroom! Well, I NEED TO GO FIRST! NO YOU DON'T, I NEED TO GO FIRST!! and so on. The fact that we have two other bathrooms in the house is apparently completely irrelevant. I sighed, adjusted the straps on my suit and was about to open my mouth and call out to the girls to please stop the fighting when the screams started.

Now as a parent you just get to know the difference between screams and SCREAMS. Hopefully you rarely get to hear the latter, but when you do you know it right away. Anyway, 6 little girls can make a lot of noise. My eldest came running (and screaming) up the stairs, followed closely by Kate, who was screaming even louder and crying. More screams rang out from the main floor. I raced downstairs and rounded the corner to the bathroom, where two more girls and Emily stood screaming. Emily was also holding her right hand with her left, and there was way too much blood everywhere.

After scooping Emily up and plopping her on the floor in the kitchen where my freaking out brain could only assume I would be closest to any medical type supplies I might need, I managed to get Elizabeth to tell me what had happened. The battle for the bathroom had escalated and Kate managed to push past Emily into the bathroom, where she turned and slammed the door. Shut. On Emily's finger. Elizabeth fortunately was nearby and raced to open the door again, and the drama commenced. Now, I suppose that perhaps your finger or mine (an adult finger in other words) might have not suffered quite so badly in this particular situation. I don't know. What I do know is that Emily is not an adult, she is a very slight 8 year old girl with fragile, slim, dainty fingers. Without going into terrible gory detail, the door inflicted pretty horrific damage to her poor finger, from the top knuckle up. Horrific enough to exceed my expectations when I attempted to assess the damage, horrific enough for my stomach to do one of those slow flip flops and cause my heart to race even faster than it already was. All I could think to say at that moment was "Em, look away." And she calmly replied as she turned her head, "Okay Mom..."

Anyway, long story that I don't particularly want to relive again short, an ambulance ride to the hospital, xrays, stitches and consults with a plastic surgeon later we are awaiting the unveiling of the finger at the doctor's office later today. It has been a very long week. Not just for me, the worried mom, or for Em, the injured party who has been amazingly brave and calm through all of it, but is terrified of having to endure yet more probing and pain at the hands of the doctor, and for Kate, the guilty party. Kate, who has been displaced from her bed since the accident, as we couldn't have Em attempting to climb up and down to the top bunk, and so therefore we put her in the bottom bunk, which is Kate's. I could have possibly put Em in Elizabeth's bed, except that by Tuesday she had come down with an acute case of tonsillitis and a sinus infection and ended up sleeping with me in my bed for the rest of the week, which meant that hubby had to sleep in her bed. Kate has spent the week alternating between nightly temper tantrums over the loss of her bed, to crying herself to sleep once she is ultimately reminded of why she has lost her bed. Almost like she is flogging herself daily as a form of repentance/guilt over her part in the situation.

Interestingly, Emily is the one who continues to insist to everyone that the whole thing was an accident. Every time she says this, I can hear Kate quietly add, "no it wasn't." And when she weeps at night, she says "I didn't know, I didn't know" over and over again. What a terrible way to learn a lesson. We have warned her so many times that her anger could cause her to really hurt someone, whether she intended to or not.

What I hope for is this. Number one, that Emily's finger will be alright. That she won't have to have part of it amputated, or go through a long, painful healing process. That when they take the bandages off today, it will be on it's way to recovery, without the need for medical interventions. That it won't hurt too much.

Number two, that this will not cause permanent damage to my daughter's relationship with each other. That Em will forgive, and that Kate will feel real remorse.

And three, that in addition to remorse, Kate will ultimately benefit in some way from this. That this will help her in her battle to control her emotions and her actions. I don't want it to haunt her or anything as traumatic as that for the rest of her life, but I don't want her to forget it either. I want her to learn from this and hopefully never ever lash out in anger like that again.

I always joke that drama stalks me at every turn, but this is just a bit too much.

omega 3 update

Well, it's been another month, and I have to say that the only significant change so far still is an improvement in Kate's sleep. She is sleeping through the night most nights now, and therefore sleeping in her own room a lot more often too. Unfortunately I am not seeing any real differences in her other behaviors, such as her temper outbursts, her crying jags, and her aggression towards others. She is still up and down as always. But I will continue to keep her on them, I figure it can't hurt and maybe over some more time it still may help. I'm on them too, and I have definitely slept better since starting them, and possibly am more calm, less moody?? than before. :) My husband would probably beg to differ.

omega 3

I've decided to try something new. After a friend mentioned that she was giving her daughter a regular dose of omega 3 supplements to balance her moods, I decided to check it out and did some reading up on the subject. Since it would appear that we all need to add more omega 3s to our diet to balance out the excess of omega 6s, and much of the literature did indeed state that they had been shown to improve mood imbalances, sleep issues, upper respiratory congestion and skin problems, I went out and bought some flax seed, some fish oil supplements, and a whole whack of seafood. I've been grinding the flax seed and adding it to both Kate's and my yogurt concoction that we both like in the mornings, and to any sauces etc that I make for dinners, plus we've been eating fish for most of our meals now instead of only once or twice a week.
While it's only been a couple weeks, I have noticed that I am sleeping better, quite a bit better actually. Which may in part be because Kate seems to be sleeping much better. As for the moods, well, the jury is definitely still out on that one. I'll have to give it more time. But regardless I do intend to try to keep up the omega 3s with everyone, since they are supposed to help with brain functions - smart food, right? If nothing else we might end up being super intelligent angry people.

Free to a good home

This morning I actually put this in my status on Facebook...

Free! to a good home: One female, almost 8 years old, big brown eyes, likes to sleep in your bed with you at night, loves lots of attention, would do well in a home without other children or animals, or basically anything that might detract from one nanosecond of your time away from her, reply to momslosthermind@Ineedadrinknow.com

After struggling with Kate all morning, doing my damnest to keep her on an even keel, letting her eat the last waffles, giving her my perfect egg that I just cooked for myself, helping her "find" the socks that she had hidden in Elizabeth's dresser, I finally lost it when she freaked out on me while I was trying to brush her hair before putting it in a ponytail. I just couldn't take it any more. So I told her that was it, I was done with her bad attitude, her lack of respect for me and the rest of the family, and the rude way that she constantly speaks to us. I told her until she changes her ways, she will have to fend for herself, because I am tired of her wasting my time and energy. Then I proceeded to finish getting myself ready to leave for school, got my coffee in my go cup and told everyone to head out. Meanwhile Kate was running around in her socks screaming at me to put a ponytail in her hair still. I ignored her and left, scraped the ice off the car windows, closed the doors and drove off down the driveway, leaving her shrieking at me to help her put her shoes on in the open doorway of the basement. Of course, I didn't actually continue to drive, much as I wanted to; I put the van in park, walked back and discovered the door shut and locked. Eventually she opened it back up, and I picked up her backpack, her coat and her shoes under one arm, and picked up her under the other and hauled the whole lot back down the driveway to the van, and chucked her and her gear inside. The whole way to school she shouted at me to give her her shoes, which were on the floor in the front. Once at the school I got out, unloaded the other kids and their stuff and said goodbye and then waited stoically for Kate to emerge from the vehicle. Which she did with shoes and coat on, just as her class was filing inside, joining the end of the line, throwing black looks at me over her shoulder. I'm sure she expected me to follow her in, attempt to hug her or something, but I resisted and maintained my mean mommy demeanor and got back in my van and drove home. Where I posted my "ad" on Facebook, poured myself another cup of coffee and went for a walk outside with the dog, breathing deeply and willing myself not to have a coronary over a 7 year old's power struggle. 


If the addage "that which doesn't break you makes you stronger" is really true, I must be fucking superwoman by now.

Parenting through Neglect

Parenting through neglect. The title says it all. It has truly become the mainstay of my parenting style. I honestly believe that by encouraging my children to entertain themselves within the relatively safe environment of my home, that they are well on their way to becoming independent, imaginative and resourceful people. Yes, sometimes - okay, most of the time - the basement aka the kid zone looks like a bomb literally went off in it, what with the bins full of crayons, markers, papers, ribbons and many other various items with potential for creative transformation, cut up bits of paper on the floor, glue and glitter all over the table and hearth. But I figure it's worth it when I get invited downstairs to the pizza shop they have created for example, complete with take out boxes. Or when I have to help settle a labour dispute caused by Kate firing her sister Emily from the pizza shop, who then went out on her own and opened up a TV shop, and then lured away Kate's employee Jada to go and work for her. Again, I played the role of mediator rather than dictator, allowing each party to air their grievances - Em and Jada were willing to come back to work at the pizza shop if Kate would allow to take their coffee breaks together. This apparently was a sore point for Kate, who was against it as she said the other two would take their coffee break and leave her having to sell the pizza alone, which she didn't like. When they all looked at me I just threw it back to them and asked, well, so what are you going to do about this? and eventually they sorted out the breaks etc and all went back downstairs to sell pizzas and TVs together. How can this not be an invaluable education that will have them well prepared for the real world? And all the while I can just stay upstairs and do whatever I damn well please. Well, pretty much. If cooking dinner, folding laundry and doing the dishes counts. My point is that I COULD just go read a book, dance around the kitchen, or watch Sex and the City re-runs if I wanted to. Because my children are busy ENTERTAINING THEMSELVES. And even better, they aren't even watching TV, or playing video games.I know some would argue that they should be spending more time involved in girl guides and art lessons in addition to the sports that they each already play. But somehow I think we all find it so much more enjoyable to spend that time in more of a free form way, rather than adding on to our already busy scheduled trips to soccer, basketball and curling practices and games. So when my 9 year old calls out from her bedroom "hey mom! how do spell time travel?" I say, how do YOU think you spell it. And when she calls out a moment later, "hey mom, how do you spell machine, with a c or an s?" I say it again, and then smile, wondering when I am going to be called in to go for a trip to another dimension. Now THAT'S the kind of trip I'm up for.

back to square one

I am sad to say that we seem to have had a bit of a set back with Kate. She was doing really well when school first started, sleeping in her bed at night instead of on a mattress on the floor beside my bed, getting through her mornings without melting down, and most of her evenings too. However, slowly but surely we seem to be back where we started again. Evenings have been particularly frustrating for us, we have had no  down time at all in the evening without Kate, and she has been throwing big tantrums every night before bed, that last well into the rest of the evening before she finally exhausts herself and falls asleep, usually beside me on the couch. Mornings have been not much better, stressing about what she is wearing, what she wants to eat, and taking out anger on her sisters and me. I am trying to figure out if we have stopped doing something right, or if this is all in response to something else that is going on with her that I haven't picked up on yet. Today she did pretty well in the morning, she got up and waited for both the daycare girls to come and then got on with her morning without too much hoopla. I will have to try changing up her evenings in some way, maybe having her take a bath every night right after supper or something, to break up the pattern she is in right now. Something is wrong, but I havent' been able to put my finger on it yet. I did have a talk with the other girls this week, just to let them know that I'm aware how hard it is for them at times too, and that I'm trying to figure out what's wrong, so I can help Kate cope with her emotions better. They are so good. Anyway, I knew it wasn't something that was going to magically just go away, that it would take time and I just have to stay positive and continue working with her to improve her coping skills.

go blow your nose

So this has been happening for a while, but I guess the with the novelty of Jessica ever so slightly wearing off Kate has been having more temper tantrums again lately. It definitely still helps hugely most mornings, but there have been more of the good old bad old days creeping back in. The evenings generally are still the worst, once all the other kids are gone for the day. Sigh. She is still finding her way up to our room at night most nights at some point again too. Which is a shame since she just got a new mattress and duvet from her grandparents, and then by her request we switched her to the bottom bunk - which makes all kind of sense to me and where she should have been all along. Not that it seems to have made much difference as far as her coming up in the night, but at least it's much easier for me to lie down with her for a few minutes at bed time if need be. But all this aside, the most troubling thing she has been doing for the past few months is this nose blowing habit she has developed. I'm not sure how it started, other than she probably had a bit of a runny nose at some point around the end of the summer and when she was upset found herself needing to blow her nose more often. Anyway, now it has become a nervous habit. She goes through rolls and rolls of toilet paper - I can't keep Kleenex in the house for any time at all - blowing and blowing every time she is weepy or angry about something. And then she throws it all over the bathroom or her bedroom, regardless of how often she is told not to. Part of the nose blowing ritual? She can't seem to throw it away. Last night up she came for some reason in the middle of night, and proceeded to blow her nose over and over again. Which is awful on many levels. The simplest is just that it's damn noisy and I can't get back to sleep. And it's damn annoying, I can feel my temper starting to boil as the blowing goes on and on. Add to that my frustration and worry over why the hell she is doing this in the first place. It has been a compulsion for her, and that's freaky. Throw in my husbands frustration, worry and desperate need to sleep due to the fact that his back is out at the moment, and you have a room full of people on the edge.

Anyway, eventually we all got back to sleep - Kate and Mike within minutes, me within hours, boooo - and today is another day. I am anticipating an issue after school, or maybe even before if she remembers in time - I'm referring to the fact that Kate has basketball Tuesdays after school, and has fussed about going the last 2 weeks. Once she's there she seems fine, and fine afterwards too, so I have chalked it up to simple anxiety. At least she isn't blowing her nose in the gym so far. Mike once again demanded I make an appointment for her to see the doctor again, which I privately think is futile. Your child has to have some pretty major issues before the medical guys take you seriously. I am pretty sure we will go thru the long process of waiting to see the specialist pediatrician once again, only to be told that yes, she gets worried, and yes the nose blowing is a compulsion and a play for attention, and that it will all pass if we ignore it.

So I tell myself to suck it up and carry on, and hope that she does get over this nose blowing thing before she does some kind of actual damage to her nasal passages. Maybe I need to ban her from all tissue and supply her with handkerchiefs to at least cut down on her massive carbon footprint and environmental waste?

Fall back

Well, one month into a new school year and counting. Feels like fall, getting cool, wet, windy, lots of leaves in the gutter. Had the fireplace lit last night. Kate had a "relapse" morning yesterday, for lack of a better term. Apparently she had been told by her teacher and the school librarian that she had not returned a certain book to the library, and would not be allowed to borrow any more books until said book was returned. However, Kate was quite certain that she had never borrowed the book in question in the first place. In typical Kate fashion, she did not relay this to me calmly, but rather let it stew inside her until she came to me with the story, bursting into tears as she told me about it. I managed to soothe her by assuring her I would personally talk to both her teacher and the librarian and sort it all out. Now, she first told me of all this on Friday. The Thanksgiving long weekend followed, and she didn't mention it once during that time. But then Tuesday morning rolled around. She might have coped alright, except that unfortunately we were not expecting any of my daycare kids that day, in particular her touchstone J. And so she could hold it together no longer, out poured all her fears and tears, and she spent the entire morning before school in a state of total hysteria. Of course it all worked out in the end, I spoke with the teachers, the librarian hunted around and lo and behold located the book on the shelves where it belonged, and she had a conversation with Kate about what had happened. But before all that we - meaning myself and her sisters - had to endure a morning of high emotional distress, not to mention the state that Kate got herself into. Sure, she doesn't lose it maybe as often as she did this time last year. But when she does it is so hard for her to pull it back together again. Not to mention the fact that now when it happens I have noticed that her body odor becomes very strong, not usual for the average 7 year old, but I guess to be expected from one who is going through extreme duress. Once she had finally calmed down slightly yesterday morning I checked her to see if I could smell any trace of B.O., and sure enough there it was. Obviously the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel bad again, so without a word I fetched my deodorant - an all natural brand - from upstairs and showed it to her. She nodded, lifted her shirt and let me apply some to her underarms. Guess this was one case where having an open bathroom door policy helped me out - she has seen me use deodorant daily on myself, and knows what it's for.
Anyway, we survived another emotionally disastrous morning, and today J arrived bright and early, and everything was smooth sailing. I find myself depending heavily on the presence of a 9 year old to get us through our days - perhaps I could clone her so I will never have to be without her?

back to school

I'm back. After a small hiatus this summer, school is back in and I have my computer to myself again. I made a decision to start doing before and after school care for 3 other girls, and took them more or less full time during the month of August, so I got a chance to see how it's going to play out. So far, so great, I have to say. Interestingly, all three girls are only children. They all get along well with my girls, and we had little to no conflicts all month. Now that school is back in, they are only together for a brief period of time before and after school, so hopefully it will continue to be a success for everyone. I have to say that the most exciting development to come out of this so far has been how well Kate has responded to the new situation. She is just a totally different child in the mornings now, and after school too. Where previously she was always very stressed, anxious and aggressive before school, now she is happy, organized, engaged with the other kids. After school she used to have a break down as soon as she got in the car, and it would continue for most if not all of the evening. So far this year she has not only kept it together but has drastically improved her coping skills when tired or bored. The key to this success seems to be her relationship with one of the girls in particular. I have known J since she was in grade 1, when she was in my Sparks (Girl Guides) group with Elizabeth, who was in kindergarten at the time. She is probably the quietest child I have ever known up till now. But that has changed too - she is definitely not quiet in my house! Anyway, she and Kate hit it off, and seem to really click. From what J's mum has told me, J is also very happy, so I am really really hoping that this continues. For both of them! For all of us!!

the talk

I've noticed that my eldest daughter Elizabeth seems to be going through a new phase lately. I call it her roll her eyes and argue with everything I ask her to do phase. Which is usually followed by her shouting that I am not fair and stomping off to her room weeping phase. Anyway, Saturday I decided I had had enough. I was feeling somewhat fragile myself, having just kicked off day one of my menstrual cycle, and it occurred to me that while Elizabeth is only nine and hopefully a few years away still from being initiated into the joys of being a woman, ha ha, she may start to exhibit other symptoms of the oncoming hormonal onslaught. Like, oh say, being in one hell of a bitchy mood and then flipping over into tears moments later for little to no apparent reason. So I figured I should be a proactive mom and have a little talk with her about her recent crabbiness etc. I grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and invited her to come and sit on the deck with me for a chat. As we headed outside my husband spotted us and said "oh, hey, I'll come sit with you guys too, it's such a nice morning." I hesitated - don't get me wrong, he's a great dad, and pretty valiant when it comes to girl talk, but I wasn't sure I wanted him present for her first girl talk. Especially since I wasn't entirely sure what I planned on saying in the first place, and didn't really think I was up to any cute comments on the state of my own mind at this particular time of month. So I switched gears and suggested that Elizabeth and I go sit on the front porch instead, while trying to not hurt my husband's feelings too much in the process by assuring him that he could be part of any future girl chats. We had just made it to the front door when her sisters popped around the corner and asked where we going. I told them we were just going to have a little chat on the porch, and of course they immediately asked if they could join us. Sigh. I guess I could have said no, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to get away with saying no to anyone else that morning. So I found myself a moment later seated on the front porch with three captive listeners, eagerly awaiting me to impart some great words of wisdom. Crap. I started by discussing how grumpy E had been lately, and how sometimes you can have good reasons to be grumpy or sad, and sometimes you don't seem to have any reason at all, and then attempted to segue into an explanation of hormones and feelings, and getting your period, and at that point just when I was thinking I was doing pretty well Elizabeth raised her hand. "So okay, Mom, you've explained before about the whole egg and sperm thing, and I get that, I mean it's like salmon, right, the boy salmon fertilizing the eggs that the girl salmon laid, but what I'd like to hear is more about exactly how Dad fertilized your eggs, like how does he get his penis in there, how does he make the sperm come out, you know, that kind of stuff?" And before I could answer Emily says "Oh, I know, he puts it into her vagina, because she keeps her eggs in there instead of laying them like a salmon or say, a chicken, right mom?" And then "But wait, a chicken! How does the sperm get into that hard egg shell anyway?" "Yeah mom, how, are our eggs like that, boy that must be hard work for Dad to get his sperm to break through those shells" and that was it, conversation officially out of my control and over. I suppose I could have reeled it in or at least attempted to at that point, but by then I realized that my neighbors were on the other side of the fence enjoying their morning coffee, and our voices were carrying nicely in the morning breeze. Plus it was all I could do not to break out into hysterical laughter.  Fearing that I might be about to mentally scar them all for life on the subject of sex, I had sudden visions of them saying things like,"my mom says that my dad has to use his penis like a battering ram to break through to her eggs..."or something along those lines being shared amongst their friends at the playground, only to be passed along to all the other parents in our neighborhood, and my phone would start ringing off the hook with calls from outraged mothers wanting to know what kind of disgusting obscenities I have been teaching my children, and I would be thrown off the Parent Advisory Council in shame, never to be able to show my face at school again...so I smiled and said well, I just wanted to talk about feeling cranky and sad, and so if you have any questions about that don't be afraid to ask, and we'll save the rest for another day...and went for another cup of coffee. Maybe I should have let Mike have the talk with her after all.

time out

Although I haven't written often this summer, this week I find myself looking at my blog from a slightly different angle. I know that usually I write of the more humorous moments of my mothering experiences, but now and then something happens to remind me that there is another side to it all. Today I am thinking about another mother of three daughters who I know. She is actually my sister in law's mother, and I sometimes call her my "other" mother in law, as we have gotten to know each other fairly well over the past few years. Anyway, something happened this week, something that I am finding has wrenched at part of me somewhere deep inside, and I think it's because I am looking at this something from a mother's perspective. I find myself being constantly confronted throughout my day by it, in my routine dealings with my daughters, and it literally makes me catch at my breath for a moment as a wave of what I can only describe as sorrow washes over me. What happened was that my other mother in law's oldest daughter died on Tuesday, after losing an amazingly courageous battle with cancer.  And while I knew her daughter, and have been great friends with my sister in law for many years now, what strikes at me the hardest is how my other mother in law's life is forever changed because of what she has lost. I keep thinking of things like Mother's Day, how it will never be the same for her again, that it will always be tinged with some sorrow, no matter how happy and grateful she might be for her remaining two daughters. I guess that is part of life, learning how to live with that and carry on, but what a hole it must leave in your heart.
I am not one of those people who believe that "everything happens for a reason". I don't believe that at all. What purpose does taking a wonderful loving person away from her life serve? None that I can see. I do believe in free will, and making conscious choices to cope with the curve balls that life throws at you. That being said, I find myself holding my girls a little tighter this week, and counting my blessings a little more carefully. I suppose the only good thing I can take away from this tragedy is that it does give one pause; it nudges at me to stop and smell the roses, spend some extra time just enjoying my girls. I'm just sorry that it sometimes takes something terrible to remind us of something good.

sleepovers

We have reached the age of the slumber party, oh my. The girls have all had sleepovers at their grandparents house - which is located about two minutes from my house - since they were babies, but now we are branching out into new territory. Elizabeth started her summer off with two back to back slumber parties, one at a friend's followed the next weekend by a birthday slumber party at our house for a group of nine year old girls. What is it about having a sleepover that is so exciting, so desirable, even at such a young age? I flash back in time to my own preteen/teenage years, and all the slumber parties I attended. As with most all girl events, there is plenty of social stress to go around at some point or another. Who gets to sleep next to who, what kind of pj's you brought to wear, who has the coolest game to play, it's all part of the girl hierarchy that naturally seems to come into play during an evening like this. Here's a question: do boys have slumber parties? They must, but what happens at them? I'm quite sure they are fundamentally different in some way from the girls' version, but how exactly? I have no sons, so I will probably never know the answer to that. All I know is that with the girls there just seems to be a certain amount of angst, as there tends to be in any all girl related gathering, but it seems to be heightened at a slumber party.  Men always seem to envision slumber parties as erotic pillow fighting escapades. I can say from personal experience that while there might be pillow fighting, it is not exactly what I recall as erotic. But there is for sure a certain heightened amount of tension present, and I think it has to do more with the social hierarchy aspect of things - the establishment of a pecking order within the usual pecking order as such. What I mean is that usually only the girls who are within the hostesses inner circle of friends are generally invited to sleepover in the first place. On a daily basis, they stand by each other and each have a sense of comfort in their status as part of their group. However, everything seems to shift at a slumber party. Suddenly, all bets are off, and there is a scramble for acceptance within the group that is palpable. I watched it happen at Elizabeth's party - as the hostess she was granted a certain automatic queen bee status, with the others all competing to fit in somewhere. I watched as one of the girls had clearly been granted special status  - she sat next to E during the movie we played outdoors after dark on our deck, and of course the ultimate gift of being the one who slept next to her that night. A couple of the other girls paired off with each other, and seemed quite happy within the ranks, while a lone girl seemed to be somehow both on the fringe of the group and yet questing for queen status all night. Interestingly, she had not been on the original guest list, but had phoned Elizabeth and managed to somehow wrangle an invite for herself.
Anyway, it's much like summer vacation type memories for me from the same period of time - they are almost visceral in their intensity and definitely evoke an emotional, if not completely nostalgic response in me. It's Sunday morning, and Elizabeth is currently still at a friend's house, having been invited to sleep there last night. I realize that she is entering a new phase of girlhood, has been for some time, but the summer time sleepover thing is what has really made it hit home. Mind you, for all her growing up I noticed that she didn't forget to bring her favorite stuffed dog with her for the evening. And whenever Elizabeth has a sleepover away from home, I get to have a slumber party of my own it would seem. Her twin sisters had great plans last night to sleep in the spare bedroom in the basement. We got them both all tucked in with various stuffies and blankies, said good night and retreated to the living room one floor up. I believe it was 30 seconds later, although Mike says we should "give" them a full minute, that the girls appeared in the living room with all their gear, saying they had changed their minds and would be sleeping in their own room instead. And then about a minute after that Kate appeared and said she couldn't sleep in there without Elizabeth and could she sleep in our room? Followed moments later by Emily saying that she certainly didn't want to sleep all by herself, and could she sleep in our room too? All of which I had been completely prepared for and within in minutes had them both set up on the floor of my bedroom and sound asleep among the laundry hampers of yet to be folded clothes.
The phone just rang and it was my eldest daughter reporting in, due home within the hour. Things must have gone well as her buddy is coming with her to spend the day at our place. Maybe later I will find a way to get them all to take a nap....!

bicycle built for two

Yesterday I underwent what had to be one of the most painful ordeals I have gone through with my children. I attempted to teach the twins how to ride their bikes. Now before I go any further, I need to explain that this wasn't the first time I have tried to do this. I have been trying to get them rolling for about two years. And this isn't just a simple case of let's take off the training wheels. Even with training wheels the girls were afraid to ride their bikes. So last year I said to hell with the training wheels, and got them new bikes, sans training wheels, and set about trying to get them riding them. After several afternoons at the park I gave up, mostly because I thought I was going to have a heart attack from the combination of running back and forth across the field over and over again with both the girls, and from the extreme level of frustration I was experiencing at their total resistance to try to learn. I mean, I nearly picked up both bikes and chucked them into the forest. But somehow I hung on to my sanity, which was severely shredded at that point, and instead I decided to just put the bikes away for another year. So when this summer started, Kate announced that she was going to learn how to ride her bike, and I was highly encouraged to try again. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Kate's version of trying again turned out to consist of her sitting on her bike, inching it forward with her feet on the ground, and then after a few minutes getting off and declaring she was done for the day. She refused to let me near her, which of course made it impossible for me to do what needed to be done - hold on to the seat, run with her to get her rolling and then let go. And then there was Emily. She actually did let me do the run and let go, which was followed by her screaming and falling off her bike and bashing up her elbow, after which she refused to go near her bike again, and said she would be quite happy just riding her scooter forever. Now please understand, I have attempted to take out as many "scary" elements of bike riding for them as I can. They are wearing helmuts, which seems somewhat ridiculous as they move faster walking than they do on their bikes. I am teaching them at the park, so they are either on grass, which may be softer to land upon when they fall, but is much harder to actually ride on in my opinion, or they are on the sandy baseline of the baseball field. But they have continued to be stalwart in their mutual terror. This is a big part of the problem I'm sure, because I just don't get that terror. My inability to patiently teach my children surely stems from the fact that I taught myself to ride a bike at the age of 5 by borrowing a friends bike, parking it at the top of a steep road in our apartment complex, and racing down it over and over again until I felt I had mastered the art of bike riding. Whereupon I announced to my parents that I would like a bike of my own, and they found me one that didn't have any brakes, so I just put my feet down whenever I felt the need to stop. Since we lived at the top of a steep hill, I wore out the soles of my shoes pretty fast, but other than that I thought my bike was pretty great. I have had something of a love affair ever since with bikes, so I couldn't wait for my girls to get rolling with me. Elizabeth was first, and it was a piece of cake. She was five when I took her to the park the first time. After some basic instructions - look straight ahead and don't stop pedaling - I took off running with her and let go. She rode for a ways, fell off, got back up and got back on the bike and took off on her own. And that was that. Now I realize that I attributed much of her ability to learn to my own amazing abilities as a teacher, which of course was completely delusional of me. She would have learned with or without me I suspect. The twins however are a completely different kettle of fish.
So yesterday I was looking to kill some time after lunch, and it occurred to me we could try the bike thing again. Then I thought, what am I, a total sucker for punishment? But no, this is my job as a parent, right? A rite of passage that I must endure with my children, right? As I worked on talking myself into giving it one more shot, I suddenly recalled another rite of passage that I had endured with the girls, and quite successfully - potty training. In fact, I had the twins completely potty trained within 2 weeks of their second birthdays. And how did I do this so quickly, so effectively and at such a young age? Why I used bribery of course. I laid in a big supply of candy, and I bribed my daughters with it to get them to go on the potty. And it worked like a charm. So I thought, hey, I'm not proud. If I have to resort to bribery to get the girls on their bikes, then bribery it is. So I started loading up the bikes into the van, and then when the weeping and the wailing started I smiled and said "today girls, we are going to try something different. If you learn to ride your bikes today, I will stop at the store on the way home and I will buy you a candy of your choice. In fact, I will buy a bonus candy for whichever one of you does it first." As they thought this over - yes, they were still hesitant and mistrustful - I threw in one more offer, "AND I'll make milkshakes for everyone when we get home!" That sealed the deal.As we drove up the hill to the park, Emily piped up from the backseat, asking "Mom, did you just, what do you call it, BRIBE us to ride our bikes?" And I smiled and said, "why yes, Emily, I sure did," once again confirming to my children that yes, mommy is a crazy lady.
Anyway, we got the bikes out and I took some deep breaths and we were off. And after several runs back and forth with Emily shrieking don't let go, I don't want to, I'm scared, I gave her one big push, let go, and screamed keep pedaling, and holy artichokey, she did. Keep pedaling, that is. By now the park was full of other families, flying kites, walking dogs etc, but I was in a happy place all of my own at that moment. I probably looked like a totally deranged lunatic, leaping around woohooing at the top of my lungs as I chased after Em, and when she came to a stop with a look of wonder on her face, I grabbed her off her bike and spun her around till we both fell down laughing onto the grass. Then Elizabeth ran up and joined us too. After we all recovered, we looked around for Kate. She was way across the field sitting on her bike, glaring at us. Hmmmm. I caught my breath, and then went after twin number two. But this wasn't going to be easy. Once again she was refusing to let me give her a push. And then she started to weep as she realized that Em was going to get candy, and a bonus candy at that. Somehow I retained my composure, no easy feat in the face of such dramatic opposition, plus I was sweating like a pig and almost totally out of breath. I didn't know how much longer I could go on. So I started saying things like, hey, come on, focus on the candy, what kind of candy do you think you would like, how about licorice, a whole pack of it, or a big chocolate bar all to yourself, mmmmm, yummy, okay now just let mommy give you a little push, I won't let go, really I won't, well maybe just for a minute but you'll be fine, you can do it, just keep thinking about the candy....and then I gave her a mighty shove and let go, and watched as she froze, legs sticking straight out, screaming her head off, and coasted several yards before coming to a very undramatic stop, whereupon she put her feet down, and just looked at me. While she was deciding whether or not to be completely pissed off at me, I decided that while she didn't technically actually pedal her bike that it was close enough to count and I called it a day. "Woohoo ladies, let's go get us some candy!" I shouted at everybody, and we spent the rest of the afternoon on a comfortable sugar high, all feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. I know that this journey isn't over yet, that I still have to get one of them pedaling, but I am confident that with continued bribery and a fair amount of peer pressure we will soon all be enjoying some summer bike riding adventures together.

July

Good grief, we are well into summer vacation, and it doesn't feel like summer yet, other than the fact I am with my children 24/7 and that definitely makes mommy more than a little stir crazy at times. I had super intentions of "journaling" here daily, in order to get the girls to keep up with summer journals of their own. Well, the girls have been far more faithful than I have. So rather than try to back track and recall every detail of our summer thus far, I will sum up. Sun came out, bought a pool. Played in the pool for a week, then the sun went away and the rain and clouds arrived. Covered the pool up. Only creatures interested in the pool are the raccoons. Devised highly technical plans to keep raccoons away from the pool. This involved sitting up on the deck late into the evening, fortified with wine, covered in bug spray, huddled by the propane heater with a bucket of wet rocks to fling into the wilderness beyond the garage. Was advised to also try stringing empty cans around the pool, but couldn't quite figure out how to do that, so just rattled the plastic bag full of empties now and then in between flinging rocks. Not sure if my plan is responsible, but so far the pool has remained intact and raccoon free. Have channelled my pool obsession to the local outdoor pool as of this week. Was certain that by now the sun would have returned and had visions of spending lazy mornings basking in the heat poolside while the girls took swimming lessons. In reality have found myself hauling several sets of umbrellas, sweaters, lawn chairs and sleeping bags to the pool each day, where we sit damp and chilled, scanning the sky desperately for a break in the clouds, while the steam drifts off the top of the pool, which is apparently the warmest place to be, and where unfortunately I am not.
The weather network taunts me with each extended forecast promising sunshine, only to change by the next day and be postponed just a few more days down the road. Oh, don't get me wrong, we're still out and about, finding things to do, sleeping in etc. But what I am pining for is that put on your bathing suit as soon as you get up, have your coffee on the deck which is already warm under your bare feet, run through the sprinkler, go get a slurpee, smell of the barbecue, taste of fresh salty,buttery corn kind of summer action. You know, where you jump in the pool and then lie down on your towel without drying off because you are going to get to indulge in that awesome sensation of the water evaporating off your body in the heat as you lie there.
Anyway. One more week of July, which doesn't look too special according to the weather channel, so I will focus my summer hopes on August I guess. If I sound glum, I guess I am. Tempers are short around the house, I am not sleeping well, and neither is Kate. Maybe we are both doing some cloudbusting in our sleep. Perhaps today when we get back from the pool I will say to hell with the crappy weather, slather some coconut sunscreen on all of us, crank up some Bob Marley, and hand out some freezies. Inside of course. Meanwhile it is time to go load up the van with rain gear, blankets, umbrellas and heat up some coffee to go.

and so it begins....

Yes, it's the last day of school today before the onset of the kids' two month summer vacation. Actually, it's not even a day, it's an hour and a half, which really translates into about an hour by the time I drop them off, then race back home to retrieve the farewell thank you cards Emily made for her teachers that she forgot and didn't remember until we pulled into the school parking lot, even after I asked them all if they had everything when we were leaving the house....anyway, then I race back to the school to hand over the cards, then home again, and the kids are being "released" at 10:30 after one final assembly which really, couldn't they have taken care of this business yesterday, not that I'm complaining because ultimately it is one last hour of peace before my two month summer boot camp begins. Phew. Some of the other parents asked me if I was staying for the assembly but I just smiled, waved my coffee cup at them and wandered off to my van. I have to psych myself up for summer. Although I have to say, it doesn't feel much like summer today, it's overcast and drizzly, booo. However, as of 10:30am summer is officially on weather cooperating or not, so I'd better get my game on.
Summer tends to be just about the busiest time of year for my husband's business, which translates into us basically spending the summer at home. The girls and I generally become tourists in our own city - I have a couple of guide books to loads of parks, lakes, beaches and trails all around the greater Vancouver area to keep us occupied. We pack some lunch and some water and take off to explore most days of the week. My rule of thumb is, if it's free then I'm all over it! With three kids it's just not financially realistic to take advantage of any of the day camps that run all summer long, much as both myself and the girls would like to at times. Not to mention that even if it were affordable it would still be a logistical nightmare trying to coordinate all three of them into something that each girl actually wants to do, so another good reason to just say forget it, and head off to explore, as I call it. Over the past few summers the kids have gotten used to my system, although it still tends to stress Kate out at times when she realizes that I don't always know exactly where I am...however, so far we have always made it out alive, so I think she has a little more faith in me than she used to.
People always ask if we go away during the summer, to which I say no, other than perhaps one weekend of camping squeezed in somewhere. But I think we stay pretty busy, and I think we have a lot of fun. I mean, who wouldn't want to turn their entire backyard hill into a giant slip and slide? It completely destroys the grass, but hey, this is Vancouver, it'll grow back! The only organized activity I put the kids into is swimming lessons at the local outdoor pool, usually for a few weeks midsummer. We love those mornings, with the girls taking turns in the pool, and whoever isn't swimming is hanging out on a towel with me, reading a book, or whatever. And lets not forget camping out in our own yard, that is a blast, at least for one or two weekends. All in all, summer vacation is a good time, I have to admit.  Being able to be home with the girls is great, I get to feel just like a kid all over again, doing all those lazy summer day things with them - eating freezies, playing in the sprinkler, hanging out at the pool, playing outside on those long summer evenings when it stays light out for ages.
So okay, while I know that there will be times that I long for some peace and quiet all alone, I also know that it will be a great summer. Really, it will. Of course, ask me how I'm doing a month from now, and my thoughts on summer vacation might be completely different, especially if the sun doesn't get into the act and make a decent appearance....but in the meantime I am successfully psyched up and ready to go.
And speaking of going, I have just enough time to top up my coffee and then it's go time - school's almost out!

put me in coach

Well, the soccer experiment has not really played out, so to speak. Back at the beginning of the spring soccer season, I registered a keen Kate, and dragged a kicking and screaming Emily off to their first practice. With one game left a couple of months later, the situation has completely reversed itself; Kate no longer wants anything to do with soccer, and Emily thinks it's the greatest game on Earth. It's not that Kate isn't athletically inclined - she is, but she thinks too much about what she should be doing, and ends up psyching herself out and blowing it. Whereas Emily - as usual - lives in the moment and throws herself with utter abandon into the game, and ends up doing well. Sigh. While it's great fun to watch Emily turn into quite the little soccer player, it's been equally if not more painful to watch Kate retreat further and further away from the game. Every week she cries before she has to go to practice, and every Saturday night she starts to stress because there is a game the next morning. Oh, and just in case I wasn't aware of how my children feel about soccer or how well they have been performing, their coach made it very clear at practice last week. He made his way over to me just before they finished for the evening to ask if Emily was going to be playing winter soccer this coming season. I answered that she was and he smiled and said "oh that's good, she should play, she is very good." Then before I could reply he went on "oh but Kate, she shouldn't play, she can't play soccer." Well. Seeing as how there were other parents present, not to mention several children, I swallowed hard, smiled and said something like, well, that's fine since Kate actually doesn't want to play any more. And I left it at that. But of course, what I wanted to say and swallowed until I have opportunity for either a private conversation or a formal coach evaluation is that perhaps if her coach had been more encouraging, she might have enjoyed the game more. They are seven years old, for goodness sake. However, I did not want to make a big issue out of it for Kate's sake. Which became even tougher for me at the game that Sunday when after almost 20 minutes of play, Kate was still standing on the sidelines, waiting a turn on the field, a turn that every other child had been given. Again, I didn't want to embarrass her by drawing any unwanted attention to her, but when the coach was about to sub in another child who had already had lots of playing time instead of Kate, I had to do something. So I started waving my arms frantically from where I was watching behind her, and pointing at her head to get the coaches attention. Apparently he got the message, and sent Kate in instead, and then looked back at me and said, oh sorry, I must have missed her by accident...and cue the swallowing of harsh words and tongue biting again.
So anyway, one practice and one game left and then she can retire forever if she wants to. I have officially registered both her sisters for the winter soccer season, but not Kate. We are going to find her an activity of her own, one where she doesn't have to compare herself to her sisters at any rate. While I don't want the other girls to think she is getting some kind of special treatment or whatever, I think in the long run it will be a relief for everyone, and hopefully make up for the stress we have all had to endure from Kate for the past couple of months as she suffered through spring soccer. I don't care what she does really, or whether she is actually any good at it or not, it would just be great to find something that she likes to do, that makes her happy and brings some joy to her worried little face.
Anyone need a barely - and I mean barely! - used pair of kids size 13 soccer shoes?

liar liar

Well, here's a new one for my memoirs...we had plans to go to friends for dinner Saturday night with the girls, so before we left I asked them all to get their soccer gear out and ready to go for the following morning, knowing we would likely be home late and that Sunday morning would come way too early and I would be stuck dealing with three kids running around wailing "where are my cleats? where is my jersey?" and we would once again be late getting to the field. Anyway, the girls did as I asked, and when Sunday morning arrived I got up feeling pretty confident that we were organized and on target to get to the games on time. Until I heard Elizabeth say "what the heck??? I know I put both my shin pads here yesterday, and now one of them is gone!" Fabulous. I looked her in the eye, and asked "tell me the truth. Are you sure you put them both here?" and when she answered a definite yes, I could tell she was for real. Elizabeth is a child who can do a great many things, but one thing she can't do well is tell a lie. So we started hunting, thinking maybe one of them had been accidentally kicked off to the side, but after searching every corner of their dressing room, we widened our search path. While a small part of my brain was still hoping at this point that the dog had picked it up and raced off with it in his mouth to greet someone at the door, the rest of my brain was becoming deeply certain that someone else in our household was the guilty party. Call it mother's intuition or whatever. After searching in all the obvious spaces that the dog might have dropped a shin pad, like the entry, the living room, and basically every other room in the house, I cornered my husband in the kitchen and furtively whispered my suspicions to him. He was very reluctant to go along with me however, and just said, well, you'd better be right. At this point he went outside to start looking around on the off chance that the dog had been the one to take it and perhaps had carried it outside when he greeted us the night before when we got home. I didn't think the dog had gone outside when we got home, but whatever. I returned to the dressing room where the girls were continuing to don their gear, and said "okay, if there is someone in this house who knows where the other shin pad is, you need to tell me now. IF you tell me now, I will not be angry with you. However, if you do NOT tell me now, I will be very upset, and you will be punished." No dice. So I start going through the dresser drawers, opening boxes, really digging through their stuff. Emily says, what are you doing Mom? And I reply, I don't think the shin pad is lost, I think the shin pad has been HIDDEN.
As the girls finish getting ready (minus one shin pad for Elizabeth) and sit down to eat, I continue to tear the house apart. I am now 99% sure I am right, and if I'm not, I will apologize on the spot. But I have no luck. By now Kate is in tears and is insisting that she doesn't know where the shin pad is, I PROMISE I didn't do it, she says, over and over, which is not a good sign, as this is her standard response after whacking one of her sisters in the head during a sibling battle. I am not even asking her if she did, after my initial comment to the girls about 'fessing up to the crime. I smell guilty all over her, but what can I do? I need proof. Finally time runs out, we have no choice but to leave if we are to make it in time. As the girls grab their water bottles and head to the door, Kate makes a detour into the dressing room, and Elizabeth is right on her heels. And sure enough, Kate walks straight over to a Disney Princess suitcase in the corner of the room, unzips it, pulls out the shin pad and says "oh look what I found..."
Honestly, how am I supposed to deal with this one? Since the clock was ticking, I just told Elizabeth to put it on, and everyone else to get in the car. I was feeling both vindicated and totally poleaxed at the same time. What the hell??? Crap. If there was a magic parenting genie that I could call on right now, I would, believe me. But since there isn't that I know of, we head to soccer, and I spend the morning biting my tongue, and basically not speaking to Kate at all. I guess I am a mommy monster, but it's like MY mom always told me, if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
Several hours later soccer is over, and we are all home, and I get Mike and Kate alone in my room, lock the door and proceed to ask her how she knew where to find the shin pad. And that's about as far as we get, because she goes into melt down mode and just shrieks I didn't do it, over and over. So we calmly say to her that we know that she did do it, and we want to know why, and we want her to know that if she continues to lie to us about doing that she will be punished. We tell her this is her last chance to come clean and tell us the truth. Which she doesn't do, so our hand is forced and we tell her that she will not be allowed to have any play dates or attend any birthday parties for the rest of the school year - one month basically. Still she refuses to confess. So we carry on with our day, while Kate cries, and wails, and yells at everyone, and tries everything she can think of to get us to back down. And finally, finally, finally, after another hour of this, she asks me to come to the living room and sit with her for a minute. When I do she tells me, okay, yesterday Elizabeth hit me and I was mad so I hid her shin pad.
Well. I took a deep breath, and then thanked her for telling me the truth. Then I tried to have a short simple and calm discussion about how that's not a good way to cope with being mad, and that I had given her plenty of chances to come to me with the truth today. And I explained that while I was glad she had finally told me the truth, that she would still be punished for lying to me all morning.
I was bracing myself for another display of hysterics at this point, but she actually took it pretty well, and thankfully we moved on with our day without any further issues. I think by then she was just relieved to have it all off her chest. But what a gong show in the meantime. I swear, I feel like I am constantly being held hostage in my home by a small terrorist. And you know what they say, we don't negotiate with terrorists, right? Right. All I can say now is, Mommy needs a margarita....

we've got talent

Okay, apparently we do have talent in the family! Elizabeth finally got the news yesterday that she made the final cut to get into the talent show. My normally composed child actually ran up and threw her arms around me after school yesterday when I went to pick up the kids, she was that thrilled. Other than knowing she has a scheduled rehearsal on Monday, she still doesn't know when the show will be. I asked her if everyone got in, or if any of the kids were cut, and she seemed to think that only 17 of the 28 original groups who tried out were selected, but then another child told me that she thought that everyone got in, so it's still all a bit of a mystery. However the kids were told to let us parents know that there will some kind of specifics in the school newsletter next week, so I will wait and see. Anyway, after we got home, Elizabeth asked if she could borrow the karaoke machine (which technically belongs to the kids anyway, but I figured that since they couldn't read when it was given to them that we adults would just take care of it for a while) and shortly afterwards the basement was filled with the sounds of her practicing her song for the show. The twins tried to accompany her on the piano for a while, but eventually either got bored or were asked to leave because they both wandered upstairs looking somewhat dejected and in need of something else to do. Who knows? While this could just be a passing phase, inspired by watching American Idol all season to it's finale this week, maybe we are witnessing the birth of a future star....or not. Either way, she's a star to me. Once again I find myself in awe of her confidence in herself. Does she get the things she wants in life because she is confident that she will? Or is sure of herself because she gets the things she wants? Probably a bit of both I guess. So far her complete belief in herself has worked out for her pretty well. As her mom I admit I sometimes worry a little about how she will handle disappointment when it happens. I mean, you can't always win, right? Although she takes the occasional loss in soccer pretty much in stride, I think she still mostly judges a game by her own performance, and if she's happy with that, then the final score doesn't seem to concern her too much. Anyway, I am fascinated by her, and am thoroughly enjoying witnessing her journey through life. If I can help her out along the way, even better. If she'll let me that is!