tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82870051660122209592024-03-13T03:24:05.011-04:00The childUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger565125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-71242136513041462982019-05-21T10:17:00.001-04:002019-05-21T21:50:56.747-04:00He would have loved Instagram<br />
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have gone full days without
thinking about Matthew. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is inevitable I think. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Life
takes over. Sometimes it’s the madness of the morning routine that propels me
out of bed and insists I execute like clockwork to make it to the finish line
of leaving the house at the exact right second to get to work on time. This must
all be done with precision, without forgetting to sign a note, </span><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">fill a water bottle, ensure phones are
charged and keys are in the right place. </span><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And once I’m in the car, my thoughts are
consumed by the need to avoid construction and traffic, all the while listening
for a text telling me they’re safely at the bus stop. </span><span style="color: #002060; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's hard to fit one more thing into my mind on those days.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's not surprising that after nine years of him not
being here, I do sometimes go for days without thinking of my brother. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But then I’ll catch a snippet of
a stand-up routine on Instagram, see a particularly handsome man on the street or binge something mind-blowing on Netflix and yearn for him to be the one I discuss these things with. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll remember something funny he
did as a kid and tell Shaune and the kids for the hundredth time, knowing they’ve
heard it but decide to tell them anyway because I just <i>need</i> to talk about him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When someone you love passes, it’s
hard to know how to keep them alive in your life. It’s harder when that person
left you too early. I know all that stuff we say about the loss. You know those
things people say like “God called them home” or “ They were only meant to be
here for a short time”. Those platitudes don’t make the fact that he was a living breathing twinkling thread of light for our family who we lost without warning any easier. It doesn't change the fact that it left us shattered and in the dark for a long time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I’m remembering him today on the
nine year anniversary of his passing. It was such a deep and sad loss for us. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #002060;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm thinking about my Mom and Dad because I can't imagine losing a child. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-66329959042571196902018-12-24T19:07:00.000-05:002018-12-24T19:10:01.934-05:00A letter to Eleven on behalf of a Mom<br />
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hey Eleven (<i>cool,
cautious tone</i>),<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Welcome.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I won’t
fight you - I've heard that that never works - but people are saying that you're the new 13 so I just wanted to point out a few things. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So far,
this path has been <i>so</i> good. He came out perfect: gentle (!), and wild (!) and kind (!)…magnificent.
Like a healer, he cauterized my wounds – bleeding so long – <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as if to say <i>“Don’t worry Mom, I’m here. Let
my love graft us together, let my need of you salve your grieving; let me be
the light to guide you to your real self.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eleven, I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">am </i>my real self because of him!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And Eleven, he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">delights </i>us everyday.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Never takes
us for granted. Still laughs willingly at our jokes; understands the nuances in
an uncanny-too-soon, adult way. He is an open heart. Tells us each thing he’s
thinking as if to keep even the smallest secret would widen the space between
us. And he lets us know he couldn’t bear that space.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Eleven, he sits
with us every single night, so close to my side that I can’t tell where I end
and he begins. Pure joy for me I tell you. “Are we watching our show Mom?” he asks.
I don’t remember the last time he retreated to his room or was too busy for us.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And when we
fail him Eleven?…<i>Often,</i> on my part it feels. His forgiveness is steady and predictable
as the sun's rise, deliberate but new colours every time. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">He is beautiful. Breathtaking, dear Eleven.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Please don’t
change him too much. We see that he has a hard time getting out of bed in the
morning, this boy who used to spring out of bed. That's fine. We understand that he needs to argue with the decisions we make. That's okay. We see that he's watching all those badly-acted tween shows. We're taking that in stride. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We can handle <b><i>all</i></b> of this Eleven.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But
<i>please</i> Eleven, if you can manage it, leave this boy's heart intact. Because his heart? So so good. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Love the Mom.</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-84289142261310149872018-11-24T20:00:00.000-05:002018-11-24T20:00:28.435-05:00The soundtrack of my life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was 13
when I saw Queen’s <a href="https://youtu.be/azdwsXLmrHE">Radio Ga Ga video</a>. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We lived in Tucson Arizona and MTV was
new. I didn’t know what the song was about. Google wasn’t around and I didn’t
own the album so had no liner notes to refer to. I liked it though. There was a
sadness to it that my changing body understood. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I’d sit alone and watch your light<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My only friend through teenage nights…<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The quiet
revolution taking place in my body added it to the soundtrack of those puberty
years riddled with uncooperative feelings I wasn't equipped to handle; foreign
desires I couldn’t place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Tonight I
heard it again and it echoed in me that same faraway sadness. Another revolution
in my body 34 years later and I knew it belonged on this soundtrack too. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We took the boys to see <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1727824/">Bohemian Rhapsody</a>. I promised Shaune several months ago to see it in the theater with him. He grew up loving Queen, fascinated by his Dad’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/News_of_the_World_(album)">News of the World </a>record.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I worried
it might be too grown up for Naveen. All the other parents in the line-up
headed to The Grinch with their kids. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Was this good parenting?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Both boys
were spell-bound the entire two hours and thirteen minutes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1785339/">Rami Malek</a> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was</i> Freddie. He blew us away. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I am moved. I want to do my
best. I want to see my kids not through the lens of my own controlling parenty
self but through the eyes of one who SEES them. One who sees <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the great potential that lies in each single
human being and finds a way to nurture it and make it come to life. I want to
rejoice because I can love. Even if it is imperfect and jagged. I can love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You made them laugh, you made them cry<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">You made us feel like we could fly (radio)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank you
Rami. Thank you Freddie. Thank you my sweetheart for insisting we go to see it.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-54193330420479793302018-05-31T09:12:00.000-04:002018-05-31T09:12:51.073-04:00Birthday letter to a boy who is 8<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dear Naveen,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You are eight
today. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I looked for
a picture to show the world who you are right now. But I couldn’t find one that
captures your kind heart. Not a single
one that hints at your gentle, deep nature. So then I looked for
one that would show how big and little you are to me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Big because you asked me
on Sunday if I feel about you, the way you feel about Myrtle, our dog. “Is that
how you love me?” you asked cradling her little body in your arms. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And also
because in the Mother’s Day card you <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.com/2010/10/brown-skin.html">called me Rohima.</a> “That’s the name you
were born with” you said. This gesture, this simple little detail. Spelled
right. So generous. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I knew right then you saw me.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But little
too. Pouting when you can’t sit beside me as if you possess me still - the way
you did as an infant. Or sticking your
tongue out at me behind Dad’s back because your mischief landed you in hot water. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Little because we can't say the word "balls" around you, without you falling to the floor in hysterics. And little because your lanky, long body still fits in my arms. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I couldn’t
find the picture, I searched for the right words. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Words that could explain how much you love
your brown skin and how proud you are to be "the brownest one in our family". I searched
for the words that could do justice to the compassion you model every day. How every single time I apologize for
being a flawed, impatient yelly Mom, you are pure charity and forgiveness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">When I couldn't find the words, I searched for a way to linger here just a little longer. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This place where you still hold my face to see if my freckles are intact. Where you hold my heart because I still have the answers you seek. This place where you still belong to us and not the world.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I searched for a way to hold onto this boy you are right now. But like the picture and the words, it eluded me. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So I'll just say this: </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Happy birthday my big little boy. You are a blessing to us every single day.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="color: #44546a;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-23800871222935015762017-07-18T17:05:00.000-04:002017-07-18T17:05:50.957-04:00When you've loved a dog<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I watched the Dog Whisperer every day the
September we moved into our first house. Sometimes I’d devour two or three
episodes in a row without taking a bathroom or snack break for fear of missing
something. The way <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_Whisperer_with_Cesar_Millan">Cesar</a> could calm any dog, get it to walk beside him; I
was transfixed. I loved everything about the show: how they presented the
problem behaviour, the video demonstration of it and then Cesar teaching the
owner how to help the dog be its best self. It was inspiring. And I knew I could put Cesar’s teachings to
practice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Only one problem: I didn’t own a dog. I was
seven months pregnant and grieving.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I cried every day for the first few months
after we put Judge down. But when there were no tears left, I watched Cesar
Millan train the problem behaviours right out of all the dogs he met. It was a welcome distraction, like the baby boy
growing inside me. Like the new house with its unfamiliar streets. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A relief because I could no longer bear those
old streets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">They reminded me of the tugging of the
leash, the feel of him heavy and sure, next to me as we walked. The old streets
ached in me to feel his breath hard on my face when he wanted me to wake; made
me weep that he’d never nudge my hand again to force my touch if I dared stop
stroking his long back. He was our first baby and the one who gave us a taste
of the family we could be.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xe9cNDjdOT5LfLdpFPEizsZF5H7u5SCnsizn5qq1pnSSK7Rh4dxK9UKh8jt_0w-aYSZhh_bjeOKen2nN3Fkp9iLkySWbu0ZVVQVvCpdhJCTA1fZC-LZ2sdns6jH5naDQGGrgYQbFC3Y/s1600/Kim%252CShaune+and+Judge.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xe9cNDjdOT5LfLdpFPEizsZF5H7u5SCnsizn5qq1pnSSK7Rh4dxK9UKh8jt_0w-aYSZhh_bjeOKen2nN3Fkp9iLkySWbu0ZVVQVvCpdhJCTA1fZC-LZ2sdns6jH5naDQGGrgYQbFC3Y/s640/Kim%252CShaune+and+Judge.bmp" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We loved him desperately for 11 years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He’s been gone ten years tomorrow. Cancer riddled
his sweet gentle body and there was nothing to be done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The kids feel sure they knew him. They
know the stories; the ones Shaune and I tell shaking our heads, laughing and I sometimes
hear them retell these to their friends as if they really did know him. And today,
the pine box that holds what’s left of him sits on Deaglan’s dresser next to a
picture of 22 year old Shaune kneeling beside a big yellow happy dog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We’ve had other pets since then. <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2012/09/the-summer-of-pet-funerals.html">Crash the cat</a>, some fish who’s names I don’t remember and most recently two hamsters named Skibby
and Stephen. We lost Deaglan’s beloved Stephen a few weeks ago and knew for
certain that it was time to add to our family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We picked Myrtle, a one year old Jack Russel Schnauzer, up two weeks ago from the farm she was living on. She was making it very hard for the free range chickens to feel free. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePjmUjmYvF4qF1QRfGQEBZCv8KK3jAVZNs38RzcHxjhU5QIyJim67YxFUOBdbl3gga9YbLvQKWnNa9Hfq1r2kHHMap5nIzj4xjGDMwNy0qNaQfCG4Bj1YO8XbFqtPJkefIZ9iYibp_kw/s1600/20170714_201716%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgePjmUjmYvF4qF1QRfGQEBZCv8KK3jAVZNs38RzcHxjhU5QIyJim67YxFUOBdbl3gga9YbLvQKWnNa9Hfq1r2kHHMap5nIzj4xjGDMwNy0qNaQfCG4Bj1YO8XbFqtPJkefIZ9iYibp_kw/s640/20170714_201716%25281%2529.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">She stole our hearts that first day. My words can't do justice to the the kind of delight she has brought to the boys. They are simply smitten. There's so much goodness on this parenting journey but it's a special kind of joy to watch your kids love an animal. </span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-61287069835600674462017-06-23T12:49:00.000-04:002017-06-23T12:49:46.437-04:00I've still got a lot to say<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">A few months ago, when I could finally watch TV
again (I’ll explain later), I saw an episode of Super Soul Sunday that struck
me. Jimmy Carter, who’s been married to his wife Rosalynn for 71 years, offered this tip on how to keep a relationship
fresh: Take up a new hobby together
every few years like fly-fishing or downhill skiing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I liked this advice. It felt doable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Not completely unrelated, I have been busy doing.
I’ve thought about this space often, and here and there, some of you have asked
me when I was coming back here. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I haven’t not written because I was busy
watching Oprah or doing things. Many times I drafted a post and then second
and third guessed <i>it </i>and myself, wondering if you’d want to know the mundane
thing I’d written about and also if I should tell you about it in the first
place. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Also the kids.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">They’re older and wiser now. They know things.
They know about Facebook. And posts. And “online”. Sometimes their friends tell them about a picture
I posted the night before – it usually goes like this: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Friend-kid peeks over mom’s shoulder while she’s
taking a quick (much deserved) social media break.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Friend-kid recognizes my kid in the feed and asks
mom about it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Friend-kid’s mom chuckles and explains my witty
post.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Next day friend-kid tells my kid about the
post.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That night my kid reads me the
riot act.</span></li>
</ul>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But you’re not here to learn that my kids ate
my homework and that they’re the sole reason I haven’t written in this space
for almost two years. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So how about this? Come back here from time-to-time. Look around.
I’ll start tinkering. I’ll post about some things that aren’t just kid-related. I’ll even update the “About me”
page eventually, maybe design a new header. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Schedule a social media break with
me because I’ve still got a lot to say. Like how we bought a trailer this
spring. And what a good thing it's been.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINw17g93S1QAK_XmNZna6hq_JYIJyKkROfyXc5wdflAG2soCKi8VHE8OAFCKbBcOenxChHQ8UhGlq9t4Mj4gA4esBSH1k4VVzClL1l7O0prBCKKX1R_zxsiDn5RCz9oy4NECSrDS7934/s1600/thumbnail_20170610_203411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINw17g93S1QAK_XmNZna6hq_JYIJyKkROfyXc5wdflAG2soCKi8VHE8OAFCKbBcOenxChHQ8UhGlq9t4Mj4gA4esBSH1k4VVzClL1l7O0prBCKKX1R_zxsiDn5RCz9oy4NECSrDS7934/s640/thumbnail_20170610_203411.jpg" width="360" /></a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The trailer goes wherever the van pulls it. Yet we find that the trailer pulls us. It's a place in our hearts now; somewhere we yearn to go. We are our better selves at the trailer. Maybe it's the fresh air. Maybe it's the small space we must share. Maybe it's the sun-filled light that helps us see each other anew.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Life is simpler there: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Cards or a walk in the woods?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Forgot to bring ketchup? We’ll make do with barbecue sauce.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">There is teamwork: <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“You get the fire started, and I’ll make the
beds.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kinder more gentle voices are heard:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="background: white; color: #212121;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">“Go sit down, you deserve to relax.” </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_Ht5PBFkVH3u9A_cplbXPeABmenM01Xq30lAFS9Qw1GzqsprY5SpOeBFLiBOCMP_Q0MPMT4p-Xvk9UYY-2MBk0T01BqqAhshGJsdAfIHCmwB_CqgeICR3HglXq8B456Oya6cyuy9hkA/s1600/thumbnail_20170610_091054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU_Ht5PBFkVH3u9A_cplbXPeABmenM01Xq30lAFS9Qw1GzqsprY5SpOeBFLiBOCMP_Q0MPMT4p-Xvk9UYY-2MBk0T01BqqAhshGJsdAfIHCmwB_CqgeICR3HglXq8B456Oya6cyuy9hkA/s640/thumbnail_20170610_091054.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It's not fly-fishing but I think Jimmy Carter knows what he's talking about.
You really can find new ways to travel through life together. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-2529376840090324882015-09-06T10:16:00.000-04:002015-09-06T10:33:37.091-04:00The best kinds of summer camp<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The living room is my favorite room in this house. I have
my best 30 minutes each morning, reading in the quiet of the sun rising,
while my people snore softly elsewhere. It’s where I fill myself up for the
day. A few pages from whichever book I’m reading, hot black coffee, and releasing each nagging thought that arises – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">must lose ten pounds</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">should
have played Monopoly with them</i>, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">front
hall closet is a disaster</i>, on and on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Just two more days until this summer comes to an official
end. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The kids spent most of their time fishing in the creeks
around here with Shaune. An intense summer camp of baiting hooks and cultivating
patience, while the sun kissed their necks a toastier brown. I witnessed the
increased learning each evening over dinner – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mom! I had a real lunker on the pole today – Dad said it was huge! </i>Or
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We tried Dingman’s Creek because it’s
supposed to be good for perch but we got skunked!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">That they spent entire afternoons away from the TV and
Tablet nurturing a love for outside fun that didn’t cost a thing, communing with
their Dad and nature – well I don’t know of a single thing more I’d wish for
them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">As for me, I didn’t get much
blogging done because when I wasn’t up to my neck in work, I got busy trying to
connect with the boys in my own, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">squeamish-about-touching-worms</i>
way. I played a lot of soccer with 4, 5 & 6 year olds (I coached Naveen’s
team this year), watched my favorite 7 year- old discover a love for the sport
(Finally. Man can this kid run!) and chuckled to myself as<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shaune, with one arm in a sling, ran drills
with Deaglan’s team, (he broke his elbow at the beginning of July).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s been a good summer but I’m feeling the usual itch and anxiety to get back into the swing of things.
You know what I mean? The things that evoke both dread and adrenaline. Early bedtimes. Rushed mornings. The search for socks and reading logs. Packing lunches. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">God help me: <em>packing lunches.</em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">My favorite room in the house.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPO37XoYy2godT2hSnQymPxkv4w_fNKH_EDq8CeH9xV87AciFZuk3mENs3GwTzE92XurFGfQMxT4oANKK69eBaway1rFtOs_5FY1NRZk7IJqSasmBFgyUlJr-lShNSE633K3AfF4gb9U/s1600/20150705_201342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQPO37XoYy2godT2hSnQymPxkv4w_fNKH_EDq8CeH9xV87AciFZuk3mENs3GwTzE92XurFGfQMxT4oANKK69eBaway1rFtOs_5FY1NRZk7IJqSasmBFgyUlJr-lShNSE633K3AfF4gb9U/s640/20150705_201342.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo8JhTi81WHyMK4jNPWa_u5Z8bwpzILzUMJ9pVY_RYCUPAuhlepxAGCoP-HxYERtghfQvurBpx-CPHFYaLce6ZytD0EvoF6rI8HnAEY94JIJEaCUswqoWMgynWnCgM0g3yULws7J9TOo/s1600/20150705_201353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBo8JhTi81WHyMK4jNPWa_u5Z8bwpzILzUMJ9pVY_RYCUPAuhlepxAGCoP-HxYERtghfQvurBpx-CPHFYaLce6ZytD0EvoF6rI8HnAEY94JIJEaCUswqoWMgynWnCgM0g3yULws7J9TOo/s640/20150705_201353.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsBjksRLr60jkfyyzZuJZmmlnuu6We-R8dA41IBbM8GK0eyzW1JzHRmV4ARnmZOiMfKT4Hp3grxLca0Qe_HpU8cpMexalX5CeNJxI6brkglDXVtsbIkL-MNbbR7lwLY6j-0vS4k8k_S7U/s1600/20150705_201417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsBjksRLr60jkfyyzZuJZmmlnuu6We-R8dA41IBbM8GK0eyzW1JzHRmV4ARnmZOiMfKT4Hp3grxLca0Qe_HpU8cpMexalX5CeNJxI6brkglDXVtsbIkL-MNbbR7lwLY6j-0vS4k8k_S7U/s640/20150705_201417.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Lots and lots of small fish caught and released. We didn't actually keep a single one.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6rrBTUfjoDOUAy0K8SucOHx_UeOtgNHn9HRsYfkonXS-vZkAyy3KebJMRgS8XMCNIBrfF083nQ1g4o5DyhlVQsZuo09c88UM_9qRrBp-12ZEiRp1LUIYLRa4AGmVu-P9OpjSB4_TVu8/s1600/20150510_131039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6rrBTUfjoDOUAy0K8SucOHx_UeOtgNHn9HRsYfkonXS-vZkAyy3KebJMRgS8XMCNIBrfF083nQ1g4o5DyhlVQsZuo09c88UM_9qRrBp-12ZEiRp1LUIYLRa4AGmVu-P9OpjSB4_TVu8/s640/20150510_131039.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hAZRs_p__NFf2AmhDJ1IjAtt3yntg_ZTrqq-Hp2XNSTrZ1ri4JKyCB7j9OnkbTg-eEf33EzWCR4ZlrbPahhrfsFDW-gybhLhD7lFlYVK8EDBkEB4X295J0pH1zAdixjXiBkbUOfPUgo/s1600/20150613_144914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hAZRs_p__NFf2AmhDJ1IjAtt3yntg_ZTrqq-Hp2XNSTrZ1ri4JKyCB7j9OnkbTg-eEf33EzWCR4ZlrbPahhrfsFDW-gybhLhD7lFlYVK8EDBkEB4X295J0pH1zAdixjXiBkbUOfPUgo/s640/20150613_144914.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU85KSreVXMDixyvXB7ASdApeyIUn5JmVAEsUDoK4Jj_m8yij8lsiTJxPPjlNWoWYWnV7Cgpb4TSb6h7fja-tfH0Wzuxi7dk_VyPvTyR_ZJ6ClpUHHaMKCkGMFSP98JNRPP6b-VoCHFCE/s1600/20150819_200113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU85KSreVXMDixyvXB7ASdApeyIUn5JmVAEsUDoK4Jj_m8yij8lsiTJxPPjlNWoWYWnV7Cgpb4TSb6h7fja-tfH0Wzuxi7dk_VyPvTyR_ZJ6ClpUHHaMKCkGMFSP98JNRPP6b-VoCHFCE/s640/20150819_200113.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A photo shoot with the whole family. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7oKsoQrg5ntqeTFwb4Gb8jKxjc1KK9FBx0PEERtpGt04UqSCCYJK8TdCViOxwwANBRQFhhnNO4TVNV79U4sfn0vMY1vqnY6ya5aGTTpbxZpM3tX6Kwh4aargNclWLhCI6P8C13uTSIs/s1600/20150905_192122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7oKsoQrg5ntqeTFwb4Gb8jKxjc1KK9FBx0PEERtpGt04UqSCCYJK8TdCViOxwwANBRQFhhnNO4TVNV79U4sfn0vMY1vqnY6ya5aGTTpbxZpM3tX6Kwh4aargNclWLhCI6P8C13uTSIs/s640/20150905_192122.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvDjhzIPGncQvGyEIvtl6eaATIQmHQj08GZqzM3jlBFdpWWO8sg_D1qqCJFHiyzTD5usCqp70aYk6WzBkroWmcfis-S_e4Hp8OQ2Cn83lU7o_g8uFqyjlCJ-l50q-r195YocxIdxTyRc/s1600/20150905_192142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvDjhzIPGncQvGyEIvtl6eaATIQmHQj08GZqzM3jlBFdpWWO8sg_D1qqCJFHiyzTD5usCqp70aYk6WzBkroWmcfis-S_e4Hp8OQ2Cn83lU7o_g8uFqyjlCJ-l50q-r195YocxIdxTyRc/s640/20150905_192142.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJb4gR-5TZwW7a5A_rqwTgZqWO_-Z6VpYXiV-8gwuaiyQ2qtstkjp3GJRlI17uaMQix-nLrdNgx6hkWzR0neFlbILPOjo0SV0Rfje1VqEB3ilZpaH2NaItBZKh5uwT3UA9bLNHcZjSrtI/s1600/20150905_192948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJb4gR-5TZwW7a5A_rqwTgZqWO_-Z6VpYXiV-8gwuaiyQ2qtstkjp3GJRlI17uaMQix-nLrdNgx6hkWzR0neFlbILPOjo0SV0Rfje1VqEB3ilZpaH2NaItBZKh5uwT3UA9bLNHcZjSrtI/s640/20150905_192948.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the face of Grade 3.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjab_nTx0tsQfkvMrOiZ1syeq_k8XiVtBfb3wySjqFldXnQdK-pIxbg8wSlp8bUxp1g45hpUS5iDys4xwgEZUBvm5IOqdxPNC03j3aYtcEOz7XpmsnewTGaSj8EEEXMcUWO9FVqCotMSoM/s1600/20150804_154814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjab_nTx0tsQfkvMrOiZ1syeq_k8XiVtBfb3wySjqFldXnQdK-pIxbg8wSlp8bUxp1g45hpUS5iDys4xwgEZUBvm5IOqdxPNC03j3aYtcEOz7XpmsnewTGaSj8EEEXMcUWO9FVqCotMSoM/s640/20150804_154814.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-48519293291753961932015-06-15T16:16:00.000-04:002015-06-15T21:16:11.046-04:00The 98 things before Summer<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">There is nothing more
disheartening than making the kids’ lunches and finding out shortly thereafter
that it’s Pizza Day. And that I thought to write an entire post on it, well it
might be an indication that I am ready for this school year to end.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">READY.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the last few weeks
I’ve had to remember no fewer than 98 extra things each morning:</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">$4.00
for chrysalises and tadpoles.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Interesting
but EDUCATIONAL show-and-share items (<i>Not the Droid Gun Ship you got
from Gramma and Grampa)</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Reading
Log.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shoe
box to transform into a rock family’s habitat.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">40
mild chicken wings for the class potluck. (<i>You know you’re raising boys
when)</i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Doing
the reading for the bloody Reading Log.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Birthday
lollipops for the entire class.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Birthday
pin for the birthday boy’s shirt so the class knows it's his birthday on
the weekend.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Signed
and dated math quiz.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Where the hell is that reading log?</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shin
high white socks for tie dying.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">$13.00
for Naveen’s end of the year trip. (Really? $13? Not say, a nice
round number like $10 or $20?)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">$15.00
for Deaglan’s end of the year trip.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Library
books (Every single time the late notice comes, I scratch my head thinking <i>I
have never seen this book in this house</i>)</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And although I want to
weep around this time, each year because it is excruciatingly clear to me that
I did not end up with a career that gives me the entire summer off but my husband did, I’ll be glad when I can stop having to remember 98 extra things every
morning.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I won’t have to keep up
this charade with Naveen (let’s see, what can I put into his lunch today that
he won’t eat because, <i>Mommmmmy, I told you, I HATE pizza
with sauce on it!)</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I won’t have to ask
Deaglan <b>WHY? <i>WHY DID YOU WEAR YOUR INSIDE SHOES HOME? WHY????</i></b></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I won’t have to
apologize for above question because I asked it in <b><i>YELLING</i>.</b></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Instead I can sneak away
extra early to work out.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Or sleep in because NO
LUNCHES.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I can put all wardrobe
negotiations on hold. <i>Those are pajama pants. <b>You have to wear
regular pants</b>.</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And beat myself up a
little less on the drive to work for the <b><i>YELLING.</i></b></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I can expect to come
home to a house that doesn’t look like it’s been robbed and ransacked because
well, LOOKING FOR THE BLOODY READING LOG.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Instead I can come home
to three sun-kissed, shaggy haired guys wearing swim trunks and mismatched
shirts who are very glad to see me. </span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-40725698452122015302015-05-30T17:34:00.001-04:002015-05-30T17:34:36.690-04:00Dear Naveen<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">A
few nights ago as I was changing out of my work clothes, you sat on the bed and
told me about your day. “Mommy, did you know that girls can marry girls and
boys can marry boys if they want?” You actually said “Mommy, did you know that <i>goals</i> can <i>may-wee</i> <i>goals</i>” and I
don’t mind telling you, the way you stumble on those R’s? FAVE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
said, “Yes, I did know that. Are you going to marry a girl or a boy?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">“I’m going to marry a girl.” When </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">asked why, you said “because boys smell like donkeys.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">And
because it was just the two of us having a serious conversation and given your
experience of boys (exhibit </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">DEAGLAN</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> and </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">DAD)</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">, I</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">
</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">shrugged and agreed that it was likely a good thing to marry a girl
because in general they do smell pretty good. You went on to tell me </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">(for the third time this week)</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> that you
would have three sons named Leo (you ADORE this name!), Nathan and Mantartica
(Yes </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Mantartica</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">!) and all of them
would also be named <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2010/06/naveen-and-us.html">Matthew</a> like you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Your
fourth year has been full of me and you moments like these. Me folding laundry,
or perusing Pinterest. You hovering close by telling me your stories. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Things
you learned at school. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Fun
times you had with friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Injustices
you have suffered at my hands (<i>You gave him a bigger piece</i>! <i>You always cuddle with him longer!</i> )<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Hopes
and dreams for the weekend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">And
also the big plans for when you are a grown man (You, all three of your sons
and the “<i>goal you may-wee</i>” will live with Dad and me. Forever!).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">A
funny thing happens to parents when they realize their last baby is no longer a
baby. They start stalling, holding on for dear life. Their perceptions become
impaired. Where others see a growing boy, fully self sufficient, these
desperados are still dreaming of his once chubby thighs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">They ask for things to be repeated just to hear
the mispronunciation of a word. <i>I said we
read a polem (poem</i></span><i><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Arial; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">) Mommy, didn’t you
hear me? A POLEM!! </span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">They smile at a potato chip remembering when
it used to be a “pip”. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">They tell the same story over and over at the same
gathering, laughing just as hard with each telling, blissfully unaware that the
listener could recite it word-for-word from having heard it already on the
other side of the room. Three times.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">It
has been like this for me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">I
am smitten with you. Crazy in love. And also on the brink of insanity every single day. You swoop onto my lap or into my arms with a fierce propriety any chance you get, but you also refuse to put on pants. EVERY WEEKDAY
MORNING. YOU. JUST. REFUSE.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Your
foray into school has been a complete success though...except see PANTS. You love the
teachers, the required change in footgear at recess and adore your two best friends, Logan and Lawson. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Which is all to say, four has been a good year. I was thinking about this yesterday.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">At drop-off I
whispered that I loved you a
zillion billion times around the moon, the world and all the planets. In return, you gave
me a pitiable smile<i>, </i>pecked me dutifully
on the cheek and muttered<i>, I love you too. </i>And as an afterthought: <i>Around our town and up the chimney</i>, Then
you demanded I roll up your pant cuffs and went off in search of your friends. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I
smiled all the way to work. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Happy
birthday my sweet, sweet heart. I am so blessed to be your Mom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Your first ever school picture. Seriously. I can't even.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On the rock in the front yard yesterday morning. You're all about a good cuff on your jeans.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-81835097459663398132015-05-14T17:06:00.001-04:002015-05-14T17:06:10.146-04:00The spring harvest of my forty-fourth year<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Last night the soccer
season started for Deaglan again and as I watched him run for the ball, a blur
of long lean limbs, dark hair and determination, I knew somewhere deep inside
that there was nowhere else I’d rather be. It’s been one of the nicer aspects
of meandering my way through my forties. I’m content to be where I am; my
twenties and much of my thirties were not so peaceful. But now that I’m here, the harder times of those younger days are all a blur too. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I watched the boys on
the field and couldn’t believe they were all between 7 and 8. They appeared still
small to me, their sweet baby faces breaking out in shy grins when they’d tame the ball and kick it to the intended destination, peering back over their shoulders
to see their parents' delight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s been a good spring
so far, our first in this house. At least once a day Deaglan shakes his head
and says: </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Mom can you believe there are
pink and white trees out my window? Who ever heard of pink and white trees? </i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I
agree; it’s like harvest around here. We moved in during the high heat of last summer,
when much of the lush green had withered, then tired and surrendered. But from
this side, the early days of a highly anticipated spring, well it is such a
treat, each of us exalting every flowery bloom and magically germinating
branch. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We’re taking it all
in stride though; getting to each thing when we can. There’s a lot to do.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Open the pool. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Dust off the lawn
furniture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Plan a nearly
five-year old’s birthday party. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Keep up with homework
even though we’ve just about had it with reading logs and spelling tests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Buy new flip-flops.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Track down the
sunscreen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Read a book in the quiet afternoon sun - cold glass of Chardonnay nearby. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I don't know for sure, but I may have a severe case of spring fever.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA9JsApwxkQQTsKpymL3Qa-66vpzJHqC5taNA962a9e3Ld8MvYimr-8qjwt2VG9Y6zNggCxdPK10knBiMnWTkOGSEd5w93rsgJIZvtRLp2z8TqclAKMoSjoo12ljtG3jbk1jZmJnpre3k/s1600/20150428_164523_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA9JsApwxkQQTsKpymL3Qa-66vpzJHqC5taNA962a9e3Ld8MvYimr-8qjwt2VG9Y6zNggCxdPK10knBiMnWTkOGSEd5w93rsgJIZvtRLp2z8TqclAKMoSjoo12ljtG3jbk1jZmJnpre3k/s640/20150428_164523_HDR.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My friend Shannon gifted me this hibiscus plant over three years ago. Just when I think I've killed it with my awkward gardening ways, it rewards me with a bloom so beautiful I rethink everything.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rSGjiM27C4dPJT_2cuHzVnn948KQDrzpbZDvMUBjX5B7jGF1ADGpf0wBtq371ILXCHripdDD68R2jKFoLcJy6944mArXlEOZ3zTCahSquHRcw33O9JfR8KMTgQQGvij8YZ6EzVnnpU0/s1600/20150504_072236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9rSGjiM27C4dPJT_2cuHzVnn948KQDrzpbZDvMUBjX5B7jGF1ADGpf0wBtq371ILXCHripdDD68R2jKFoLcJy6944mArXlEOZ3zTCahSquHRcw33O9JfR8KMTgQQGvij8YZ6EzVnnpU0/s640/20150504_072236.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbzJbq__sqm-FgvczpUFFpsaaCgdcXyTjITo6GjPTsCzQPWVlbXegJi5ZAzKFZfirWgp_fSYa9-XO2PdWSkKhkXq5ZBj3ZD2fzTX8R71iA_okEvsFHpGZK1ZRvz0Wmv1NYNRTaNQN__U/s1600/20150507_075707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLbzJbq__sqm-FgvczpUFFpsaaCgdcXyTjITo6GjPTsCzQPWVlbXegJi5ZAzKFZfirWgp_fSYa9-XO2PdWSkKhkXq5ZBj3ZD2fzTX8R71iA_okEvsFHpGZK1ZRvz0Wmv1NYNRTaNQN__U/s640/20150507_075707.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bb2c9EYRmReHRLNgW9VUbYYdPSMzMqXR5ZeRigVky04uvknb4lNpvXsC__1CGEFwp4pNzSLeWXT4o3dLLV0x_M_DF1bKCW65CCLzrRROOD7GaJhK4HoHx5-mHvO51oJT1Viw6cDX4L4/s1600/20150514_143736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7bb2c9EYRmReHRLNgW9VUbYYdPSMzMqXR5ZeRigVky04uvknb4lNpvXsC__1CGEFwp4pNzSLeWXT4o3dLLV0x_M_DF1bKCW65CCLzrRROOD7GaJhK4HoHx5-mHvO51oJT1Viw6cDX4L4/s640/20150514_143736.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This magnolia is one of my favourite things about our new front yard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">The pink and white trees out Deaglan's window.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrmhB06FF6ineR3M3N-RzU9gJnTPGd28ktLMVB5cuVUdFoSK4lWM89vxdpdiI8tXJuUNzWIjWCd6Z52tB2oqcX4egkxlxqXVYPU0jRq6G1QGA5SVJ03l2x4UtkgTwu4DQ1K6HNPxoHIE/s1600/20150512_203835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKrmhB06FF6ineR3M3N-RzU9gJnTPGd28ktLMVB5cuVUdFoSK4lWM89vxdpdiI8tXJuUNzWIjWCd6Z52tB2oqcX4egkxlxqXVYPU0jRq6G1QGA5SVJ03l2x4UtkgTwu4DQ1K6HNPxoHIE/s640/20150512_203835.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mother's Day paper flowers from my sweet guys.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I told my FB friends that we went fishing on Mother's Day (what else are you gonna do when you're surrounded by boys?). This was the result: each caught me a trout and Shaune barbecued them on a cedar plank and served with roasted peppers, onions and asparagus.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY8AVkCp8KqHQJxTAGpqX0DM6UofGet-zf74RED6wPyC9ZbWCNfExoaHngTPb3yA4Bvlupif0MWpXq5s-9qgwuF2aM3sAbpO_SYiUVwuvtiPQmKFBPURTdcleTkUkmS5n2AZSLsKbs3o/s1600/20150510_181444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibY8AVkCp8KqHQJxTAGpqX0DM6UofGet-zf74RED6wPyC9ZbWCNfExoaHngTPb3yA4Bvlupif0MWpXq5s-9qgwuF2aM3sAbpO_SYiUVwuvtiPQmKFBPURTdcleTkUkmS5n2AZSLsKbs3o/s640/20150510_181444.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this is the harvest of all those early years of parenting: watching one kid read to the other. Sigh.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFcBYFofTF4gNic2rOTTZi1bl0We0UoQwOJKGjfwUjL5gNmA5ybwN0v3Y-PtONTg_dbIFIBhQpIcZN3yaUMYBg9eq2jsVG1eT9Xyo8UXhjyGU_CvNkc3mxwIWAHgVkJJ96SKfXPmlWTQ/s1600/20150511_182205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFcBYFofTF4gNic2rOTTZi1bl0We0UoQwOJKGjfwUjL5gNmA5ybwN0v3Y-PtONTg_dbIFIBhQpIcZN3yaUMYBg9eq2jsVG1eT9Xyo8UXhjyGU_CvNkc3mxwIWAHgVkJJ96SKfXPmlWTQ/s640/20150511_182205.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And speaking of spring blooms. This guy here will be five in a few short weeks. Five!!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqjikfNclKRskPuShDNfopS0aBnQKoieRHWO0G9yXeUhXrsrpFjnGyFHu972nDMfm8NbFzyQo58H5WpGBgyXHyVhyeAoFd-Jxb-ZYZHMejgItGVNccp2vSQkpOXLk8_3yQmumY8nbSHA/s1600/20150502_200128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqjikfNclKRskPuShDNfopS0aBnQKoieRHWO0G9yXeUhXrsrpFjnGyFHu972nDMfm8NbFzyQo58H5WpGBgyXHyVhyeAoFd-Jxb-ZYZHMejgItGVNccp2vSQkpOXLk8_3yQmumY8nbSHA/s640/20150502_200128.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-37372792883804006792015-03-17T13:08:00.001-04:002015-03-17T13:08:57.872-04:00A sick day post<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">I left work just
before noon yesterday. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">I was sick all weekend and though I’d willed myself to
feel better for Monday, by mid-morning I had a fever and chills and could barely
make the short walk from my desk to the printer. I sat there looking at my
inbox filling up, work piled all around me and laboured over having to tell the team that I was sick and needed to go home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s not that my
colleagues and boss wouldn’t understand or that I’m a martyr.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It's this: For us fulltime
working moms of small kids, being sick and taking time off for it is anxiety
inducing. W</span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">hat if the kids are sick tomorrow? </i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Since Deaglan was one and in
daycare, sick days have been earmarked for working from home and taking care of
him, eventually Naveen and as they got older often both of them at the same
time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I got home
on the heels of both kids’ dentist appointments. I’d scheduled them specifically
for this week – Shaune would be off work; it's March Break here– because both boys needed
cavities filled, and also </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">because</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Naveen
had never had a cavity filled, and for days leading up to the appointment, nothing I said, no picture
I painted could deter his fear of </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A
NEEDLE?!! I’M GETTING A NEEDLE???!! </i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I have no idea where he got this but I
wanted to be nowhere near him when the dentist gave him A NEEDLE (!!) to freeze his mouth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Shaune said it was
worse than either of us could have imagined. Even with a sedative that kicked in in plenty of time, he screamed and struggled the entire procedure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So there I was, inadvertently
home on the wrong day. I have never seen anything like it. Naveen was like an
alcoholic who’d gotten hold of a bad batch of crack and a loaded gun. The
active ingredient in the sedative had him swinging from one extreme to the
other – one minute insisting on snuggling in my arms (and only my arms) and then
the next pounding his tiny fists on anything and anyone within his
reach.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Shaune did his best to keep the kids away from
me so I could rest. But when I could hear Naveen crying for me downstairs,
well, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before he stopped crying
for me for good. I wondered how long it would be until his limbs and body were too big to fit in
the crook of my body. I wondered how long I'd possess this elusive power us Moms seem to have. I grasped these last bits of magic and held him for as long as he would let me until the drug released his small body, until he was back to his sweet and feisty self. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And I treated myself to another sick day
today. I'm happy to say my lap has been free all morning – the only calls I
hear from the other parts of the house are to settle the occasional dispute, fulfill a snack request or view the latest progress of the fort they're building. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deaglan is under there somewhere. This is every single pillow, blanket, placemat and foam couch we own.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJdJehC9DpefMzJBTw6vVgLivuf9ygsuC_KNTrDEA9C7WsgCg9wNM8R59YqtD96t54jFKvxMGDqW0bYnUiDqjShCXxQiCNAkUpI9GRzXUV2uP47xmkKqu8C5HfogLT6A0jvSwJMtgNY8/s1600/20150317_123356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrJdJehC9DpefMzJBTw6vVgLivuf9ygsuC_KNTrDEA9C7WsgCg9wNM8R59YqtD96t54jFKvxMGDqW0bYnUiDqjShCXxQiCNAkUpI9GRzXUV2uP47xmkKqu8C5HfogLT6A0jvSwJMtgNY8/s1600/20150317_123356.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still chipping away at perfecting my Selfie skills - where can I get my hands on one of those selfie-sticks I keep hearing about???</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hHpnTBpYna8D0kAD3yLA06aJ9oG3znWRO3ys2yXWRITvSaSpnAt_4oQssvv1wWamPl2O0cyxDZ4G18OGLg3Vi21LksUg82IB_PQKAADNr8dDNaPhdpuc4sC7toXKY5sCCyviapj7JmM/s1600/20150308_142504.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hHpnTBpYna8D0kAD3yLA06aJ9oG3znWRO3ys2yXWRITvSaSpnAt_4oQssvv1wWamPl2O0cyxDZ4G18OGLg3Vi21LksUg82IB_PQKAADNr8dDNaPhdpuc4sC7toXKY5sCCyviapj7JmM/s1600/20150308_142504.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-43365691986203381642015-02-17T18:33:00.000-05:002015-02-17T19:44:49.063-05:00Tell Gramma and Grampa, they love that shit<br />
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Whenever I get a few
minutes alone with Shaune’s parents I corner them and proceed to shamelessly
tell them every wonderful thing the kids have been up to. I tell them about recent
accomplishments, share funny anecdotes and give them accounts of something kind
or endearing one or both boys have done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I do it because I
want to catch them up.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">I do it because I
truly believe they are interested.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I do it because my
boys are absolutely, cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs, head-over-heels, madly in love
with their grandparents and would want me to fill in the spaces when <i>Gramma</i> and
<i>Grampa</i> couldn’t be there to witness their lives first-hand. It’s the only time
I feel really comfortable gushing about the kids.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Okay. I’ll stop here to
give you a second to lower that eyebrow. <i>Umm, hello? This from the woman with an entire blog dedicated to stories about her kids.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">While it’s true most
of the content over the years here has been about motherhood, raising kids and
family life, I’ve tried consciously to stay on this side of humility. I’ve
tried not to write entire posts about how athletic, talented or
smart my kids are because a) I know you’d likely want to strangle
me and b) some of that stuff is private ir at least should be.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At a dinner recently,
one of the parents of the other family at the table announced that the two
oldest kids had achieved straight A’s on their report cards. I looked around to see if the other kids, not included in this announcement, had
heard this. It was out of the blue and it caught me off guard. I busied myself
helping one of the kids with a maze he was working through on the back of a
paper menu and hoped that Deaglan hadn’t heard. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My reaction and concern for Deaglan has nothing to do with how he's doing in school. I worried that this announcement could serve to make him feel inadequate somehow. We looked over his report card when he got it, praised him for working hard and helped him set goals for improving where he needed to. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We made a medium deal about it - not big and not small. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Because although grades are important to Shaune and me, we're more concerned with raising people who try their best, are kind to their classmates and friends, and have a willingness to keep going when things get tough. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We also value modesty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It's tricky though. We, all of us, love our kids deeply and want them to succeed and when they do succeed, we feel overjoyed and proud and also like we've succeeded. It's hard to resist the urge to announce it to the world or to anyone who will listen or at least to all of our Facebook friends. It's tricky and I totally get it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I wonder sometimes though if we shouldn't just wait for the grandparents to come over and blab ourselves silly till it's out of our systems.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3aUIHE4mZHNYFi180sz8t2jldodSTT26AH4hCog8aaQXHMAeRVwjBULcCX_fP-jGln-JfNPprmze59Z6rJHMJSNVYI8TrEft2Ukfu5HOSJdMJXQGs8DOYNGECHqVLPv6Ud3foRn05HY/s1600/IMG_2497-2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3aUIHE4mZHNYFi180sz8t2jldodSTT26AH4hCog8aaQXHMAeRVwjBULcCX_fP-jGln-JfNPprmze59Z6rJHMJSNVYI8TrEft2Ukfu5HOSJdMJXQGs8DOYNGECHqVLPv6Ud3foRn05HY/s1600/IMG_2497-2.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Here are some pictures from iur Family Day weekend.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbOSyHliJrGc0LvbGF6sKbxZAssqYtPmzPb145-IkrvRavAZMxGaeXBCm0adYTCEVoDDmWS8p99be2FKDHMYLG6ZOvqN9WS-E2zZLJOv72LqmjCCpXftADOmIKFP7tLjd4QydemycZHU/s1600/20150216_144207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbOSyHliJrGc0LvbGF6sKbxZAssqYtPmzPb145-IkrvRavAZMxGaeXBCm0adYTCEVoDDmWS8p99be2FKDHMYLG6ZOvqN9WS-E2zZLJOv72LqmjCCpXftADOmIKFP7tLjd4QydemycZHU/s1600/20150216_144207.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-59313316310350045992015-02-13T17:14:00.000-05:002015-02-13T17:14:12.412-05:00Let the real writers write<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">Always around this
time of year I find myself in an emotional rut. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">This is not a euphemism for
depression, friends; I know it’s a rut because though I’m not particularly
unhappy, I’ve grown very, very weary of the daily grind. Each day seems like
something to endure. Mornings are scramblier when you have to locate hats, mittens
and snow pants and then tell the owners of those things that they must put them
on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Over and over.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">And over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The walk from parking
lot to desk is long and arduous and that each work day begins and ends in
darkness, well, it doesn’t help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Two nights ago, I
stopped off to get Valentine’s stuff and after homework we spent the better
part of the evening writing out cards for a total of 43 kids. It meant there was
a lot of spelling supervision, a lot of repeating to a four year old that </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">these</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Valentines were not for him. It
meant telling him this 37 times.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And during this time
of year, when this sort of thing is finally wrapped up and you notice it’s
already 30 minutes past the usual bedtime, you must fight the urge to skip all
routines and send them straight to bed. But you’re weak (due to aforementioned
weariness) and have no fight left, so you promise yourself to have them brush
with twice the effort in the morning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s also the time of
year when writing preoccupies my every thought but in a way that demoralizes
and defeats me so that I actually do very little of it. The internal voices are
louder on bleak cold snowy grey days, almost scolding.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">You
have nothing worthwhile to say</i><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">, </span><i style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">let real writers write.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s precisely the
time of year a person like me needs to find inspiration anywhere she can. A
long run on the treadmill, a few pages from an <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Bird-Some-Instructions-Writing-Life/dp/0385480016">Anne Lamott</a> book and one from <a href="http://www.amazon.ca/Wherever-You-There-Are-Mindfulness/dp/1401307787">Jon Kabat-Zinn</a> too to help quiet those too-loud voices; a helpful post from an
<a href="http://orangette.blogspot.ca/">inspiring blogger</a> (oh and <a href="https://katechristensen.wordpress.com/2015/02/08/let-your-mind-go-let-yourself-be-free/">this one</a>, and <a href="http://momastery.com/blog/2015/02/10/how-to-train-monsters/">this one</a> and <a href="http://www.soulemama.com/soulemama/2015/02/another-tuesday-another-dress-or-two.html">this one too</a> and <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/02/11/elizabeth-gilbert-on-failure_n_6608164.html">also this article</a>!), a rich red
glass of cabernet and if at all possible, a spicy hearty bowl of something good
Shaune has cooked up. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Sometimes a look back
through the archives helps to remind me that I’ve done a good job
of documenting the kids’ lives here and should continue to do so, though I don’t
dare read any post too closely for fear the critics will provide more proof why
me and writing will only ever amount to nothing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">How about you? Are you feeling it too?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Here are some pictures I found on my phone.</span><br />
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<br />
We're spending a lot of time in arenas.<br />
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This is happening.</div>
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<br />
Can someone please point me to a tutorial on taking selfies? What was I doing when you all were perfecting your mad selfie skillz?<br />
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Naveen often demands tacos for every meal. Sadly this plate here would never meet his standards.<i> Salad? I didn't say to put salad on them!</i> Nope these were for Shaune.<br />
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There's a lot of this happening.<br />
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I make this simple salad just about every weekend. Chick peas. Cilantro. Avocado. Juice of two limes. Feta.<br />
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I love our kitchen.<br />
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Web building.<br />
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Our front yard view.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-29670643534965314272015-01-06T14:19:00.000-05:002015-01-06T18:42:21.634-05:00A piece of home or heaven<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">This
morning on the way to school I played Simon and Garfunkel for the kids. I
turned the volume up louder than usual and we rode in silence as we listened to
<i><a href="http://youtu.be/l3LFML_pxlY">The boxer</a></i>. Midway through the song, I
adjusted the rearview mirror to see how they were taking it in. Both boys were
looking out the window, watching the cars slide gingerly along the cold
snowy terrain. I turned my attention back
to the road, lost myself in the story, musing over the genius blend of music and poetry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It
filled me with glory despite the dim, blustery January morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
poked around a second-hand music store, a relic in today’s uber-tech
environment, over the Christmas break and although we were
looking for some inexpensive copies of Star Wars - Shaune has been anxiously waiting for the right time to introduce the saga to the kids, I thumbed through the CDs
hoping to find something on the mental checklist I’d been keeping. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I hit the jackpot
when I saw the familiar cover of their Greatest Hits album; I’d owned it almost twenty years
ago in university. In the days that followed, I listened to it a handful of times, as a
mother and grown woman now, and still it felt like I’d found a piece of
home or heaven, just like it did all those years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
didn’t do much else over the break. I spent many early mornings running outside,
eight or so kilometers and just as many mornings looking for workouts on the
internet, which I did in the basement amid the Lego builder and budding artist who
were given plenty of warning about what could happen should they interrupt me for the 45 minutes I needed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We also tinkered with our new phones (Loving the LG G3!),
met up with family, made it to hockey practices and spent the rest of the time eating
curries, when Shaune felt like cooking, and eating salads when I had to, assembling toys, picking up Lego, assessing dozens of new drawings the kids churned out at what felt like break-neck speed, and lounging around the now familiar living spaces in our home, on this very first Christmas here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It was a good end to the year.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">These guys spent two uninterrupted weeks together. Most of the time they played really well together but if I'm going to be honest there were also many trying moments. Lots of tattling. Lots of fights needing mediation. Lots of tears. Lots of wine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deaglan spent a good deal of time building Lego. Cars, spaceships, submarines and even a Woolly Mammoth. And I spent just as much time picking tiny pieces out of the rug, off the kitchen floor, from the bottom of staircases, out of my hair, my teeth...etc. </span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And Naveen, well he refused to do anything or go anywhere unless it was in his pajamas. So because we understand that he values comfort above all else, together we gifted him four new pairs this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here's what we ate on New Year's Eve. Shaune made mussels in a tomato broth and chorizo sausage topped with scallops and lobster. And because our brother-in-law doesn't do seafood, there was also grilled steak, mushrooms, crusty garlic bread and Caesar salad.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We cut the tree out of the house when all was said and done. It was such a nuisance to get into the house that it made things easier to just trim it branch by branch. Here's how it looked after its substantial haircut. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of haircuts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Naveen's friend Lawson's Mom, Diana is a hairdresser and when we told him she would be cutting his hair he sat still and quiet while she clipped away. It was a first!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I know not to ask these people to smile when I point a camera at them because this is all I ever get, yet I do it all the time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I hope the end to your year was just as good.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-78377213694230403022014-12-23T13:31:00.001-05:002014-12-23T13:31:57.385-05:00The wise and ageless you<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Dear
Deaglan,<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tomorrow
you turn seven and I can’t help but think back to when I turned seven. I had
short hair like yours and was also missing a few front teeth. But I didn’t own
any toys and had never watched TV. I shared
a room with 40 kids and no one ever read us a bedtime story or hugged us goodnight. There were no
birthday parties or cakes; no presents. To be honest, I didn’t
even know my own birth date. It didn’t matter though; no party or present could
give me what I wanted that year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
turned seven in the orphanage and the only thing I wanted was my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We’ve
talked about this a few times. And on
each occasion, your deep self, the wise and ageless you, snapped to attention,
listened quietly and searched my face to find the sadness. Tears threatened your
big brown eyes and you hugged me tight to let me know I was loved. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">A
few nights ago you came home from school, excited about your unity cup, a craft
you’d done at school. You told me that the class had learned about Kwanzaa and
explained how a black lady (whose name you’d forgotten – Rosa Parks I told you)
refused to give up her seat to a white person when the “white” seats were full.
You had lots of questions when I filled in pieces of the story. Why couldn’t
she sit where she wanted? Why did the bus driver tell her to give up her seat?
Why couldn’t the other lady stand? Carefully I told you more about slavery and
racism. We talked about skin colour. We talked about the hardship that black
people have had to endure. You got quiet and sad.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Your
bursting heart and endless compassion fill me with hope every day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">We
live in a world where just last week, Dad’s colleague told him our house was on
the wrong side of town – that maybe someday we’d be able to move to his
neighborhood. People more than ever seem
to feel justified in judging each other based on area codes, the tangible shows of overspending and the
titles mounted on their office doors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I want so much more for you and your brother. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I
want to see that generous heart of yours soar; <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Give
you every chance to feed the compassion that threatens to split you wide open. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I hope someday you do bring "truckloads of food to the starving kids in the world," as you so often tell me you will. I hope this world doesn't change you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">During the next year while I watch you embrace seven, I’ll be thinking about when I was the
same age. Each time I hold you tight, my yearning to hug my own mother will
fade a little. When I see you and Naveen love each other, I’ll thank God my sister was with me through those lonely times in
the orphanage. When I catch you jumping from couch to couch because you think
I’m not looking, I’ll delight that in the best possible way I get to be seven
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">And
each time your eyes sparkle with tears at the mention of where I’ve been, I’ll
know the journey was all worth it because it brought me to you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Happy birthday my seven year old love</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-82489304957791399882014-12-15T21:33:00.000-05:002014-12-16T08:43:27.830-05:00The usual December<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We went to <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2013/12/that-post-i-always-write.html">Sloan Christmas tree farm again</a>. As usual there was a lot of Christmas cheer and music. People wore their Christmas smiles and there were far too many families wearing matching Christmas hats and sweaters. Many hot dogs were roasted and this year Gramma brought hot chocolate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was hard not to love it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure I needed the hat, the overkill parka <i>and</i> the boots. But you know how we Canadians are at the beginning of the season. P.R.E.P.A.R.E.D.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love these two. They were born 10 months apart and this year they've totally cemented their Cousin Love for each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I insisted on the biggest, fattest tree on the lot this year. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It set several questionable events into motion. Right after this picture, Deaglan smacked into that yellow contraption (the one on the right with wheels), bit through his tongue so that blood was spurting out of his mouth like it had released a small bubbling brook. Shaune and I sprang to action like any good parents, holding our foreheads, screaming in horror.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank goodness for Gramma Fran, the retired nurse. She (spiritually) smacked some sense into us, tended to our injured boy and set us back onto the right path.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When we got home the tree fell over twice, once almost on top of little Naveen and broke most of the ornaments we were hanging onto from our first Christmases together over 15 years ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We finally got it to stay up and upright by tying it to the railing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Needless to say, I've had to confirm several dozen times since, what a good choice I still believe it is, praising it's majestic breadth and size.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And as usual, <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2013/12/jesus-isnt-reason-for-our-christmas.html">we threw a birthday party for this Christmas Ev</a>e baby in early December. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Same place as last year, a few different kids. A lot more action.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Angry Bird eyebrows and mustaches.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The birthday boy. Too much adrenaline. Too much energy. Too much cake.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cousin Leo. Not ready for the spotlight just yet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Calm and steady Gramma Fran. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And like we always do, we celebrated Grampa's birthday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It's been the usual, predictable, fun and wonderful December made all better by this little guy - Cousin Leo.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-77860729844049495752014-11-24T17:42:00.003-05:002014-11-24T17:42:42.240-05:00His ordinary days<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I really like Deaglan’s teacher this year. I like her quite a bit. I wasn’t sure at first
but after a few encounters I realized she was the
perfect teacher for him to have this
first year at a new school.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">A few weeks ago, on a Sunday evening, <span lang="EN-CA">Deaglan lay between Shaune and me on our bed and
cried. He was dreading school the next morning and didn’t understand why he
couldn’t just go back to his old school. We explained again about zoning and
reminded him that three of his best friends had also moved schools this year
and were feeling the exact same way – something I was sure of because I’d
texted back and forth with all of their moms. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He was dreading Monday morning because sometimes at recess he found he had no one
to play with. Closer to the beginning of the year, when he was in a
similar predicament, he’d make his way to the Kindergarten playground, and while
away the time, chatting with his brother, separated only by a fence. They’d even
invented their own sport where they threw a hat or sweatshirt back and forth over the fence, a
makeshift game of catch. <i>But lately</i>,
he explained, <i>Naveen is always busy
playing with his own friends</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We told him that this was all a part of the experience of being a new kid – he was
having a harder time establishing a set group of friends because most of his
classmates had been friends since Junior Kindergarten but because <i>everybody</i> in Naveen’s class was in the same boat - they were all new, it
hadn’t taken as long. We tried to assure
him that by the end of the year, he’d feel like he belonged and always have a gang
of guys to hang out with. In the meantime we promised to continue to have
friends over as often as possible to help him develop these relationships. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He cried
for a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our hearts ached. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Up until now his life had been one fluid ride surrounded by
friends, family and familiar places. He loved the old house and was blissfully
unaware of its shortcomings. To him, it was the perfect size, filled with the
perfect people situated on the perfect street. He didn’t notice the graffiti
piling up on the neighbor’s fence or worry about the endless sea of unsavory
characters coming in and out of the house across the street. He didn’t care that we were tripping over
each other all winter long, stuck together in one small living space. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Several days ago, I had to pick him up in the middle of the
day – he had a temperature and upset stomach. I had a few minutes alone with his
teacher in the office before collecting him so I told her about the Sunday
night. Tears sprang to her eyes and she vowed to help out. I
told her that although we tried to teach our kids the importance of all
experiences, that each feeling played an important part in who they were, we felt completely helpless watching our guy go through
this transition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The next night when we were doing homework, Deaglan told me
that he’d felt really special at school that day. Not only had his teacher moved him beside one
of his friends (a kid we’d had over to our house twice already) but she'd also told him
that everybody missed him when he went home sick the day before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At
parent-teacher interviews this past Thursday, I had a chance to connect with
her again about it. After we discussed his academic progress, we chatted about
other potential friendships she saw developing. We talked about our childhoods
a bit, how sweet six and seven year olds are in general , and how important their friendships are at this age. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I left feeling overwhelming gratitude that my son was spending his days being guided by this special person. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We built gingerbread houses to welcome the Christmas season. Deaglan was meticulous with his, taking the time to carefully place jube-jube shutters and M&M doorknobs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Naveen looked like this the entire time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He cared very little about shingles and doorknobs. He wanted us to cut to the chase. "When can I eat my house????"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Which is all to say (as you can see from this picture - thanks Honey!) that I could have used a good stiff Christmas toddy to relax my jaw muscles after insisting over and over the Christmas house was supposed to be a decoration. Oh what fun!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhU9ShfzX7vDVQPBQvJ356J0GZEaBVJft1hMeQkOMzzk8Ei_atsiLsgqYzxjcny2grVST4PqkfP209dlvTyhrcHdtkUDsqnUXQcMi9OU68zw5prUntV5LD9B_GIXnb8iKmMOz8IxQ_ao/s1600/IMG_2236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhU9ShfzX7vDVQPBQvJ356J0GZEaBVJft1hMeQkOMzzk8Ei_atsiLsgqYzxjcny2grVST4PqkfP209dlvTyhrcHdtkUDsqnUXQcMi9OU68zw5prUntV5LD9B_GIXnb8iKmMOz8IxQ_ao/s1600/IMG_2236.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we looked at Naveen's gingerbread house this morning, it was no longer on the tray. The candy and icing were cleaned (read licked) off and there were several bites out of the roof.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-23429669511474341112014-10-19T19:32:00.000-04:002014-10-20T09:15:52.038-04:00Mining<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I get
home from work every afternoon, Naveen shouts out from wherever he is in the
house, “Mommy?!! Is that you?!!” And when I confirm that yes it is, he lets out a whoop, and in his
loudest most joyful voice he lets Deaglan and Shaune know that I’m home. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This
announcement is made despite the fact that usually both are in my plain sight and can see clearly that I
am indeed home. And once my arrival is confirmed and properly celebrated, he
wraps his arms around my legs, looks up into my face and asks in his most sober - <i>finally I can relax</i> voice if he can have a piece of gum and get into his Batman pajamas. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He then
tells me about his day, each event, a 28 minute long story, in the middle of
which, if he senses he’s not getting my complete and undivided attention, scolds
me for not listening and starts the story again from the very beginning.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After
dinner, while Deaglan and I sit together to do reading homework, he stands
behind me against the back of the couch, arms around my neck, chin on one
shoulder listening to his brother’s slow and steady telling of each story.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And on my
luckiest nights, a few times throughout the evening, he either asks to be picked
up or if I’m sitting, plops down on my lap so that he can plant a dozen or so
kisses on my face. His small hands cup my face and he tells me over and over that
he loves me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, we have plenty of other moments too.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tell him
he has to take a bite of broccoli.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He tells me
I’m no longer his friend. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tell him
for the fourth time to put his shoes in the closet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He accuses
me of bad mothering (he really does!).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I side with
Deaglan in one of their arguments.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He promises to cut me off from all affection for good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it occurs to me, in the hustle and bustle of school, extra-curriculars and work where structure and routine must necessarily rule, these moments glisten like flecks of gold in the monotonous terrain of our everydays.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He got new pajamas today.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDPwQTncvCNGscg16wOK0ak8pLCCShj8w909zDCTmBTbjFJh5jSMEGGzriyfoc4c2qbft7qSJ3MdtdCyG3DktBNr9FGKPDMCwfHMzmtZslKvbnmOwTj1lhRyX3fRrXKjvJIe5sLzszKg/s1600/IMG_2164%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDPwQTncvCNGscg16wOK0ak8pLCCShj8w909zDCTmBTbjFJh5jSMEGGzriyfoc4c2qbft7qSJ3MdtdCyG3DktBNr9FGKPDMCwfHMzmtZslKvbnmOwTj1lhRyX3fRrXKjvJIe5sLzszKg/s1600/IMG_2164%5B1%5D.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi26xqoKetz59E9r2RmtyU8kKzm9OUPy7fxqfHaIgDZdhAhjv3LkROGMqputXkzjf0UFomPtzN5ihswfUx4YalNa9irMl6Y2MYjo_wrKBr8rxLy4e1MXDNuXQf_9fnUwzHKaNOXtWoGrjc/s1600/IMG_2166%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi26xqoKetz59E9r2RmtyU8kKzm9OUPy7fxqfHaIgDZdhAhjv3LkROGMqputXkzjf0UFomPtzN5ihswfUx4YalNa9irMl6Y2MYjo_wrKBr8rxLy4e1MXDNuXQf_9fnUwzHKaNOXtWoGrjc/s1600/IMG_2166%5B1%5D.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-83865488494524793472014-10-09T18:05:00.001-04:002014-10-09T18:14:45.176-04:00The loud and gentle voices<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last winter
I gained something like 7 pounds.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On my small,
apple (not pear) shaped, child-birth-ravaged, could-actually-stand-to-lose-15-pounds frame,
that’s a lot of extra weight. To be honest I was in complete denial (even
though my skirts had been screaming </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Uncle
</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">every time I zipped them up) until a very truthful colleague at work
pointed it out. We only see each other every few months, so when she visited
from the Toronto office last spring she asked me flat out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She is soft
spoken with a very thick accent and was smiling while pointing to my mid
section; naturally I assumed she was paying me a compliment. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She must be</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, I remember thinking, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">for there can be no other good reason to so
intentionally spotlight a middle aged woman’s most vulnerable parts.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In response
to what I thought I heard, I told her no, I hadn’t. She insisted that I had and
then, to prove it, she pointed to my face. She was gesturing that it had gotten
fuller.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sirens.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then
light-headedness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-CA">Was I dreaming?</span></i><span lang="EN-CA"> <i>Was this
woman really telling me that I’d gained weight?</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes, I do
still speak to her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it did
hurt to know that the long wretched winter we had last year had left its mark
on me. I can’t say for sure but it might likely have been the many Saturday
afternoons I spent snuggling up with <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0773262/">Dexter</a> and <a href="https://www.google.ca/search?q=ms+vicky+chips&biw=1366&bih=643&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=X4w1VMrdM4KfyAS_nIHQBQ&ved=0CCkQsAQ#facrc=_&imgdii=_&imgrc=ZU9jrFmfjfzTgM%253A%3Bj9RN_CyNbCGDhM%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fblog.onespotallergy.com%252Fwp-content%252Fuploads%252F2011%252F03%252Fmiss-vickies-sea-salt-vinegar.gif%3Bhttp%253A%252F%252Fblog.onespotallergy.com%252F2011%252F03%252Ffrito-lay-allergy-alert%252F%3B612%3B792">Ms. Vickie</a>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A deadly
threesome.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve been a
regular exerciser most of my adult life but it was clear that I could no
longer afford to eat like I did even five years ago. This broke my heart.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sorrowfully,
I unfriended Ms. Vickie.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dexter and
I became exclusive.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I started
adding in a sixth workout when I could and played soccer with the kids most
nights after dinner throughout the summer. The weight did not budge. I read about
perimenopause and how hard it could be to lose weight in the years leading up to
menopause but didn’t want to believe it was impossible. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, I took a good
hard look at how I was eating and accepted that while most of the time I did
make good choices, I was still eating too much.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That’s when
I turned inward.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I started
listening to the voices in my head before each meal and noticed that just before
lunch and dinner there was one particularly loud voice that told me there was
not going to be enough food. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eat as much
as you can</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">, it insisted, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">before it’s
all gone. And eat fast!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Obviously,
those <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2013/06/it-digs-beneath-my-surface.html">first seven years in Bangladesh</a> when full meals were rare and the
subsequent years as <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2011/06/for-long-time-we-were-family-of-eight.html">part of a large family</a> where you had to act fast at the
dinner table, had done a number on my relationship with food.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I started a dialogue.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><span lang="EN-CA">How about we eat this much and if we’re still
hungry in a half hour we’ll grab something else? </span></i><span lang="EN-CA"> I asked
gently at every meal. The voice began to listen and eventually quiet down. That
was three weeks ago. I’m happy to tell you that I’ve shed six pounds.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That’s like
an average sized newborn.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">An uncarved pumpkin. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A small
turkey. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve lost a
small turkey!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The voice (along with so many others) is still with me but we’re learning to co-exist. And I still think about
Ms. Vickie at least a few times every month but so far have not renewed our friendship. But Dexter and I? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We’ve still got some <a href="http://www.sho.com/sho/dexter/season/8#/index">unfinished business</a> - Season 8 is finally on Netflix (!).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XRrTNAlMlDfDwQe9DIrtidY86rmA89JTlVqo14I189GCXf5cG3W5X8fekJsitUMynrya4LZzZZsyBWtu1gbsaxZHj6PWL8LPuhGH7jA7JBxoYm6qEn2WLjqeSYZ6G9nTzhfhsvGblSs/s1600/IMG_2124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4XRrTNAlMlDfDwQe9DIrtidY86rmA89JTlVqo14I189GCXf5cG3W5X8fekJsitUMynrya4LZzZZsyBWtu1gbsaxZHj6PWL8LPuhGH7jA7JBxoYm6qEn2WLjqeSYZ6G9nTzhfhsvGblSs/s1600/IMG_2124.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Here's Naveen yesterday morning in his favorite outfit - the one I mentioned in my <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2014/09/my-spiritual-guides.html">last post</a>. He insisted on wearing it again this morning. Oh how I love to do laundry at 6 am on a weekday!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45MhrbLLRAbj4UtKtdBxBcZ26jYXSxI5giJ83ZxBQGhGxvnAyxCBCkTvuL4p0tMV1-3K-f7nqROKswjQVS4KplM5v60C0KClDdak6QzopGG1RvZc0ZqQ3DHJ63k0pwMKlp3r9LS4Us68/s1600/IMG_2125+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45MhrbLLRAbj4UtKtdBxBcZ26jYXSxI5giJ83ZxBQGhGxvnAyxCBCkTvuL4p0tMV1-3K-f7nqROKswjQVS4KplM5v60C0KClDdak6QzopGG1RvZc0ZqQ3DHJ63k0pwMKlp3r9LS4Us68/s1600/IMG_2125+(2).jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-52552583595309774142014-09-25T19:17:00.000-04:002014-10-08T15:33:26.860-04:00My spiritual guides<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last night
when I told Deaglan it was time to turn his TV off, he lost his mind. He wasn’t
tired, he insisted and besides his friends at school had been discussing this
very thing earlier in the day and they <i>all
</i>get to stay up later than him.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I asked for
specific examples.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Brandon
gets to stay up like </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">really, really</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
late,” he said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“How late?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“12 hundred
o’clock.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He was
completely serious. I bit my cheek and added telling time to my mental
checklist of things I needed to teach this kid.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’m sorry
buddy, but you have a hard time getting up in the morning and your body needs a
good amount of sleep to be healthy.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I hate
you!” he said, “I’m not going to fall asleep. I’ll stay awake all night in the
dark.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Listen, I get
it. I remember how much I used to hate having to go to bed when I was a kid. It
did seem unfair. I especially hated it when I was in the middle of doing something. (I figured this was not the time to tell him I didn't have a TV in my room until third year university) But I’m the Mom and it’s my job to take care of you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“But I’m
not tired!!!” he yelled.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You will
be once you lay your head on the pillow, I promise. It's time.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I left the
room then.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He was forlorn.
He cried out of sheer frustration. He was a kid with very little control
over this circumstance. I sat in my room and wondered if I’d done the right
thing.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Five
minutes later he was sound asleep, snoring softly, long limbs askew. Relieved,
I patted myself on the back for handling it the way I did. I didn't raise my voice. I didn’t react to his anger the way
I typically might. I’d taken a deep breath and found a way to connect with him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve been
practicing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the
<a href="http://www.amazon.ca/The-Conscious-Parent-Transforming-Empowering/dp/1897238452">Conscious Parent</a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.ca/The-Conscious-Parent-Transforming-Empowering/dp/1897238452"> </a> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shefali Tsabary says
there is a way to be firm with our kids without getting caught up in the drama
of the situation.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“As much as
conscious parenting is about listening to our children, honoring their essence,
and being fully present with them, it’s also about boundaries and discipline.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s a
beautiful book.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There’s
such goodness and wisdom on every page. I’ve underlined and asterisked something in just about every chapter. I’ve wanted to call each and every single one of you with kids in your lives to say </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OMG, you have to read this book</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s that
good.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my
favourite things she says is that although we believe as parents that we hold
the power to raise our kids, the reality is that our kids hold the power to
raise us into the parents they need us to become.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I find this
profound.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For me,
parenthood has been deeply satisfying. It’s been hard at times but
so, so fulfilling. I do believe what she says in her book that our children are spiritual guides put into
our lives to teach us to become our best selves. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning my little guides were doing <em>a lot </em>of teaching but I was in no mood to learn a thing.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all slept in. I made the lunches and fed the kids breakfast to help Shaune get out the door sooner. He was grateful and asked if there was something he could do to help before leaving. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Dress Naveen" I said without hesitation. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's the part I dread the most every morning. He's very particular about what he will wear. His most favourite outfit is a vivid green ninja hoodie paired with a pair of Disney-blue sweatpants, a hand-me-down we received for Deaglan several years ago from a co-worker of Shaune's a few jobs ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They have the word DINO written down one leg. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've let him wear this get-up at least three times each week since school began but have had to put my foot down the other days simply because it was filthy and I hadn't had a chance to do laundry. He refuses to wear most of the new clothes we bought him for school.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shaune wasn't successful with the first or second outfit he suggested. I could tell he had to go so I offered to take over. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A lot of crying and angry words ensued. We finally settled on some old worn shorts (I thought I'd gotten rid of these ages ago!) and a hand-me-down red Lightening McQueen hoodie. He let me know a few times that he really dug this outfit. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Great,</i> I thought, <i>your teachers can continue to think I found your clothes in a dumpster.</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know there is a spiritual lesson in these morning struggles somewhere but as a fashion-conscious soul, I am very resistant to learning it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">When I got home, he'd ditched the T shirt underneath and was just Marky Mark-ing it. I'm definitely getting him some white Calvins.</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROq1x_nJjKLV8-HfYshHj69IABHcrbMnF3m7aRsBeDJSbJw-vtMYjVaev9Lpysne5D3cxYkb-eBCEw06PZcxGsv2SKxZMr9Yk6RAn4sgRiuoSTdirEO6z5EYsoODx-jWfSU2qeyFUmHg/s1600/IMG_2112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROq1x_nJjKLV8-HfYshHj69IABHcrbMnF3m7aRsBeDJSbJw-vtMYjVaev9Lpysne5D3cxYkb-eBCEw06PZcxGsv2SKxZMr9Yk6RAn4sgRiuoSTdirEO6z5EYsoODx-jWfSU2qeyFUmHg/s1600/IMG_2112.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiRO28NzVfikl8YnO43_kPCkW4ydxAa-XXgW6pL1EkL_ApZ32TncIq1PUX7C0i4M3Qd73xFErW5Gb_ZahOhqSszaq_PY5_cXBCEJlW1Ib14r8GZrx7UvtnFfkkjitUfh-LySJbOXgHVU/s1600/IMG_2113.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqiRO28NzVfikl8YnO43_kPCkW4ydxAa-XXgW6pL1EkL_ApZ32TncIq1PUX7C0i4M3Qd73xFErW5Gb_ZahOhqSszaq_PY5_cXBCEJlW1Ib14r8GZrx7UvtnFfkkjitUfh-LySJbOXgHVU/s1600/IMG_2113.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The move and all it entailed did Shaune and me in this spring and summer. I've taken no pictures to show you the new house. I wrote no posts to tell you how we're settling in. A sad state of affairs!</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Here's a few pictures I found on our camera. The kids love the pool and despite the crummy weather we had all summer, they used it all the time.<br />
</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxT562BTiFqnAjbUJn13CyjZZVsclGB3x3uHOnq5NGIp5OWhP2sI0ZueKnDIQYkorjy8VG_uXOMlT9JhYcb0OwIckKuBOp_-O2yqkss4wz1IAJL2wFHkxkVhnytUyu-Eascyr1n0ZVhQ8/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxT562BTiFqnAjbUJn13CyjZZVsclGB3x3uHOnq5NGIp5OWhP2sI0ZueKnDIQYkorjy8VG_uXOMlT9JhYcb0OwIckKuBOp_-O2yqkss4wz1IAJL2wFHkxkVhnytUyu-Eascyr1n0ZVhQ8/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the end of the summer, Deaglan was swimming without the floatie. Swimming lessons courtesy of Dad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-54917188201749933662014-08-07T17:32:00.000-04:002014-08-07T17:32:39.161-04:00Will you know my name?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I rarely struggle
with my faith anymore.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel
certain that God is okay with my buffet approach to His Kingdom. I pick what I
like from each religion I encounter and add it to my plate. I hardly ever feel
the need to justify the various snack sized portions I choose to take in.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After all,
I was born on the other side of the world to devout Muslims and less than a
decade later was learning about Jesus at Catholic school in Canada. The change
in exposure did nothing to change who I really am.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This truth has always quieted me in the face
of religious debate. I feel a deep connection to God and sense that He doesn’t
care how I label it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recently,
however, my smorgasbord belief system was tested.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Halfway
through </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1929263/">Heaven is for real</a> </i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">one
evening, Deaglan came into the family room.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I explained what I was watching and told him he should watch too. As
always, he had 57 questions. He doesn’t quite understand the concept of
non-animated television.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Is this happening
somewhere right now?” “Are these people
real?” “Did that guy just say the F word??”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I explained
again that TV is mostly a person with a camera filming people who are
pretending...someone has a story idea and asks people to act out that story in
front of a video camera. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It gets trickier when the movie is based on true
events. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our conversation about this particular movie went something
like this:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did that boy really go to heaven?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, yes, from what he says, it sounds like
that’s where he went.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this movie happened in real life?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ummm, yes.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That boy right there went to heaven?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, not him, but someone like him.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">More
complicated than explaining the difference between the movie and real life versions
though, was knowing how to respond to my son’s pointed questions about my faith.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mom, do you believe Heaven looks like that, the
way the boy says it does?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ummm...yup, I think so.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Should I believe it too?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If you like that idea. Do you like that idea?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think I do. Does everybody go to Heaven?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well...if they believe in it, I guess.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I felt
Shaune's eyebrow shoot up from across the room. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I shot back a look that I hoped said </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">obviously I mean that if the concept of
Heaven is not real for you then you might not care about going there after you
die!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CA">Okay then, I want to believe it too...Will I
see <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2011/11/iris-bride.html">Great Gramma Mac</a> and <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2007/11/in-memory-of-judge.html">Judge</a> </span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>and <a href="http://thechild-kim.blogspot.ca/2012/09/the-summer-of-pet-funerals.html">Crash</a></i> <i>in Heaven?</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes.</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what about you and Dad? Will I see you
there? </span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My son’s
voice was no longer inquisitive. It had taken on something close to desperation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes of course you will!</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-CA">But if you look different in heaven (</span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the boy in the movie saw his
grandfather not as the old man he was before he died, but as a young man), <i>how will I find you?</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His heart
broke open then. He cried heavy hot tears into my chest; hugged me tightly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I won’t be able to find you! How will we find
each other in Heaven?!?</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hey, shhhh...it’s okay. You won’t have to look
for me, sweetheart. Daddy and I will be waiting for you. As soon as we know you’re coming, we’ll be standing waiting for you!</span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Speaking of Heaven, here are some pictures from Naveen's birthday and some from our trip to KOA.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-30569645309129483832014-07-10T20:58:00.000-04:002014-07-10T21:04:15.097-04:00The promise of each new spring<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We’re moving to a new house next week and every time I ask the
kids how they’re feeling about it, Deaglan says the same thing: <i>I can’t wait because Dad says we’re getting
those diving rockets Shannon has at her house! </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And Naveen answers me with a
question to make sure we’re talking about the same thing. <i>You mean that house with the pool that we saw last year ago? </i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Yes</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was the end of May but I remember how time felt as a kid.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Truth is, I’ve been walking around in a daze, reliving our
time here; watching the past seven years in flashes on the projector of my
mind. In the spare room, I only see the nursery it used to be. The sound of lullabies tinkling in the background as I nurse my babies to sleep night after night. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I
walk by walls and finger the grooves left by baby gates, freshly painted over,
but the scars still there. I see each of the boys crawling and eventually
walking up and down the well-worn stair case; stare a little longer at the
framed pictures along the rail, </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> when they were just babies</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Downstairs I sit bemused on the recliner, gaze out the front
window, as neighbors walk by with their dogs, pass the tree I’ve come to love.
The one I eyed up suspiciously that first summer but who has become my loyal
and constant companion in watching these boys grow. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I thank it, not for the first time, for
allowing our babies to swing from its branches, for being the touch
point for all their games, for patiently indulging them summer after summer as they
struggle to scale its trunk. I thank it for its breezy shade in the hot
summer months and for the way it stands proudly through the cold winter, bare
for all to see, clinging to the promise of each new spring.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I hope the new owners
will treasure you old friend</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the evenings, we kick the ball around or I just sit back to watch the kids play in the backyard. My mind takes me back to other
moments we’ve had here. I watch myself walk down the aisle, in a pretty white
dress, past the handful of family and friends, a baby on my hip and six white
roses in my hand; I make my way toward my sweet love to say I do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It felt so right to do it here! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This place that made
us a family, settled us into our best selves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And when I ask Shaune how he’s feeling about it - he’s the more
sentimental one of us – he hesitates. I have to remind him it’s time to move on. <i>We
really did make the right decision</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i>It wasn’t the plan to stay here
forever</i>. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-36234004004258112852014-05-30T06:17:00.001-04:002014-12-22T18:53:38.633-05:00We laugh, we sigh, and we shake our heads<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Naveen,</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few weeks
ago on our way to Daycare, a ten minute drive after we drop Deaglan off, a
motorcycle passed us. “Momma,” you said, “I wish I was a moto-cycle dwiver.” </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Oh yeah?”
I asked, “how come?”</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Because
they’re weally, weally cool.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Several
hours later, that same day, on our way home, you told me that </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Adam*, a boy in
your preschool room, had slapped you in the face. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Did you
tell Ms. Katie or Sarah?” I asked.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“No, but I
wish I could have @*#$ him.” You
replied. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“NA-VEEEEN,” I said, “when someone hurts you,
you need to tell a teacher.</span></span><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You don’t wish ____”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That night
when I had a few minutes alone with your Dad, I told him the two stories. His response and I hope you’re reading this
as a grown man, sitting behind a mahogany desk, taking a well deserved break from
the stacks of blueprints for your next skyscraper, or relaxing after deposing a
very rich client’s husband, was to put into words what I’d feared all along: </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I told
you” he said, “that kid’s gonna be a Hell’s Angel one day.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here’s the
thing. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your
brother ruined “normal” for you. He was a
pretty predictable as three year olds go. He had the odd tantrum but on the
whole was generally good natured and went with the flow. I feel often that this
has not been the case with you. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I mean this
in the most loving-but-I’m–your-mom-so-I-can-say-this kind of way. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For
instance you hate mornings. I think you would like them if you weren’t expected
to eat breakfast or get dressed. You hate eggs and socks. And most styles of pants.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You also
hate public declarations of love. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From the
time he learned to speak, your brother has told me at least a dozen times every
day that he loves me. You however, could care less about my desperate need for validation.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the
drive home from school, if I adjust the rear-view mirror to see your little face, you scowl and tell me to stop looking at you. If I bump into you
on the way to the kitchen, you accuse me of hitting you on purpose. </span></span><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And lately, when you feel put out by one of
my demands you’ve added the phrase “stinkin’ old” to whatever it is you’re
protesting:</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I don’t
want to lift the stinkin’ old toilet seat, Momma!”</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I hate
stinkin’ old fish. I’m not eating!”</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’m not
wearing stinkin’ old shorts to school. I don’t care if it’s hot!”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You’re a
grumpy old curmudgeon in a Preschooler’s body. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You're never far from me. If we’re in the
same room, you <i>need</i> to be in my arms
or on my lap. If I’m in the basement doing laundry, you’re waiting for me at
the top of the stairs. If I’m inside while you’re playing out back, you come in
every few minutes and demand a hug. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Let’s
pretend I’m a baby,” you often say and insist we talk about the old days when
you used to nurse. You ask me again and again what you used to call breast milk
and are convinced that if I just tried, I could produce it for you even now. You
have no intention of growing older you tell me all the time. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You adore
your brother. When you draw pictures at school, they’re mostly for Deaglan. You
mimic his speech, want the same toys and tell me secretly that your favorite
colour is blue “just like Dekwen’s.” This past Saturday morning, I came
downstairs to find the two of you sitting on the couch, his arm around you,
watching cartoons. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p>I had no words.</o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You’ll be four
tomorrow and I can’t help but mourn a little. </span></span><span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your chubby
toddler legs have gotten lean and strong. Your smooth little forehead is no longer
adorably disproportioned to the rest of your face. You’ve grown into those
gloriously abundant ears and you only sometimes sound like a native Bostonian –
sadly, you’re learning to say your R’s. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This year
you developed a fondness for video games, swear words and grilled salmon. The first two made me
uneasy and anxious while the third was bittersweet because it was short-lived.
Lately you sustain yourself on anything sugary and anything that resembles a
pork chop. You hardly ever mention the vacuum cleaner anymore but you often
wish out loud that you could drive a real car. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't worry, much to my dismay, that time will come soon enough my sweetheart. But for now, I want you to know that your Dad and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you; we laugh, we sigh, and we shake our heads daily, watching you unfold. I hope you’ll always
be your own quirky, delightful, weird and wonderful self. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>Unapologetic. Unconventional. Unpredictable.</em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">And if you do end up joining a biker gang when you're older, then I hope you always stay <em>Under</em> the radar</span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Happy Birthday my sweet baby!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Love always,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Your old lady.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">*The names and events in this scenario were changed to protect you from implication in any future crimes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some pictures of you from this past year.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-53527765255923709542014-05-13T18:49:00.001-04:002014-05-14T08:28:38.894-04:00Before the deep sadness<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last night I had a dream about Matthew.</span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was at a crowded bar when I bumped into him. My heart leapt. He smiled and asked me if I was sticking around. He said he’d be hitting the stage around 7 and I should stick around. I was so glad to see him that I didn’t think to ask questions. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>Of course</em>, I said. </span></span><span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He told me to make sure I stayed late because the fun stuff didn’t start happening till after 11. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He looked 19: skinny as a pole, shy smile, a dusting of brown freckles sprinkled across his nose. Handsome as ever. </span></span><span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After I promised to stick around he tapped me lightly on the back and walked away. When I looked again, he’d been swallowed up by the crowd. </span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I woke up then. And missed him like crazy. I realized it had been a dream.</span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I walked to the kids’ room where they were sound asleep and watched them for a few minutes. Sometimes when I miss my brother it helps me to be near my kids.</span></span><br />
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even though they’re not related by blood, Deaglan reminds me of Matthew. I think it’s because my favourite memories of my brother, the parts I hold nearest to me, are the memories of him as a small boy. He had a great laugh and I hear it every time Deaglan laughs. Back then he was pure, honest and in awe of life, the way Deaglan is these days.</span></span><br />
</div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span lang="en-ca" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was before he felt the deep sadness.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="en-ca">Eckhart Tolle says this of suffering:</span><span lang="en-us"><i></i></span><i><span lang="en-ca"> W</span></i><span lang="en-us"><i>ouldn't it be wonderful if you could spare them [your children] from all suffering? No, it wouldn't. They would not evolve as human beings and would remain shallow, identified with the external form of things. Suffering drives you deeper.</i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I find this prospect of parenting the hardest to accept. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I forgot about the dream when I woke up this morning. I shuffled downstairs, made coffee, got lunch stuff together, watched the news, showered, dressed and got us all out the door. On the way to the Daycare, <a href="http://music.cbc.ca/#/Radio-2-Morning">Tom Power</a> played <a href="http://youtu.be/_caz4qMxTH4">this</a> and the dream came flooding back. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That song always stops me dead in my tracks.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know what the dream was about. Next Wednesday will mark four years that Matthew's been gone. Maybe he just wanted to say hi. Tell me he's happy. </span></span></div>
<div dir="LTR">
<br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
<span lang="en-us" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whatever it was, it feels good to know he's on stage somewhere.</span></span><br />
<br />
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</div>
<div dir="LTR">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was the last picture of us together. I was six months pregnant with Naveen. I'll always be sad that they missed each other by ten days.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287005166012220959.post-47794263006792390982014-05-03T06:45:00.000-04:002014-05-03T07:15:39.159-04:00Grade one reading: a job aide<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A few years ago if you asked me what the hardest part of
motherhood was I’d answer without hesitation, “the lack of sleep.” These days
I’d like to say I’d take no sleep over teaching a six-year old boy to read but
that wouldn’t be completely true either; well, because nothing would be worse
than having to teach a six-year old boy to read on no sleep. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It’s likely not a very parenty thing to say, right? Grade
one reading? What’s so hard about that?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Well first there’s the tiresome negotiation that must ensue
to get said six-year old boy to the kitchen table after your long day at work
when the only thing you'd rather be doing is sipping wine while scrolling
through Pinterest. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Often this means prying whatever toys he’s holding out of
his death grip, swearing an oath on anything resembling a bible to give them back once the homework is done.
It also means telling that six year old boy to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sit still</i> a total of 57 times. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“On your bum, please.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Sit.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Please, on your bum.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">"Deaglan!"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Sit still.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Sit.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Please.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">“Bum.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then 38 reminders to put his finger under the words he’s
reading. And just as many times bringing him back to the right sentence. When suddenly you are forced to focus on the noise in the periphery and find it’s
the six year old’s younger brother in your armpit literally diverting your
attention, small hand on your face, “Momma, you ahn’t <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>listening, can I watch anothoe show?” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This is when you are forced to say very loudly in hopes your
husband, who actually is in the living room in plain view of the TV tapping
away the next day’s lesson plans without a care in the world, will hear you: “YOU
NEED TO ASK DADDY TO PUT ANOTHER SHOW ON.” Often this must be said loudly one
or two more times with the addition, “BECAUSE MOMMY’S DOING
HOMEWORK WITH YOUR BROTHER” to get its intended effect. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">And all the while you are holding back the urge to say: “You
just read that word 25 times!!! Why the hell are you acting like you don’t know
what it says???” This is about the same time you realize you just aren't cut out for this parenting gig. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But then you remember to practice deep breathing and remind yourself
that he’s just learning. You must remember this every time he pronounces the
word “like” as “lik” even though you know with certainty you’ve explained the
function of e at the end of a sentence something like two hundred times. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You pat yourself on the back each time you bite
your tongue recalling how far you’ve come. You can’t
remember the last time you put words to the near rage that “said” is not
pronounced “sss-ahhh-iii-duh” even though it’s a sight word we’ve been
memorizing for the better part of two years.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Said. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">How hard is that?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Instead you cheer him for every small victory. You give him
a bear hug after every book and tell him how proud you are. Because you
are fairly sure he will eventually get it. You convince yourself of this by
remembering that most adults you know can read. To be sure you mentally list all the people you know and try to remember if you'd ever heard them read out loud. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Then you get to that glass of
wine that’s been practically begging you to drink it while Googling Google because you'd heard somewhere that most of their meetings are done while their workers are walking around. You take a few sips of the wine and relax, imagining your fidgety son with a perfectly successful career at a place where everyone can read and hardly any meetings require a person to sit still.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">This year the kids got new bikes for Easter. I know, I know, gifts at Easter now??? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">Also, my birthday fell on Easter Sunday. I try not to get too worried that the sidewalk message below says: Happy birthday Mom.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As always, there was an awesome Easter egg hunt at Gramma and Grampas. This year I had to gently remind Deaglan that he was not to plow past the younger kids and find all the eggs himself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;">And I had to encourage Naveen several dozen times to keep looking for more eggs even though he was content with the first one he found.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Good times with Grampa.</span><br />
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