A few last things

The last couple of days, after the rounds of Christmas parties (we hosted three this year!), Christmas itself – with endless piles of new toys for the kids (where will we put them all?!) have been warm and comforting in our pyjamas all day if we want, nothing to do but eat, watch TV, and play Candy Land.

I baked with the kids yesterday, the kind of baking I can really rally behind – add softened butter, contents of package, water and stir; today I’ve thrown almost all caution to the wind, Deaglan has helped himself to at least five  palm-sized chocolate chip cookies before even 10 am without even a teeny lecture from me.  Naveen has watched episode after episode of Toopy and Binoo on my tablet, navigating the way with his fingertips. A two year old who knows his way around such complex gadgets. It’s the way of the world, I know, yet I’m still constantly amazed. Me, who earned an honours degree in university with just my typewriter.

Shaune and I have been sick for the last week; sinus issues and chest trouble. We’re trying to figure the most strategic way to get the kids sick and healthy before we go back to work next week. I’ve been kissing them full on the lips, breathing on them every chance I get. Wouldn’t you know it they are healthy as cats for a change.

Last night Deaglan and I watched the Chronicles of Narnia – he for the first time. I explained that I’d watched the animated version every year as a kid and then read the books when I was about nine or so. He asked me at least 435 questions and as mildly irritating as it was I was reminded of Matthew. He’d fire question after question during any show we’d be watching so that all of us older kids had to take turns of telling him to shut up and watch what happens next.

The memory of it was so clear that I grabbed at patches of patience when I could and answered Deaglan’s questions. Ma, what’s a half man half horse called? Let me Google it because I think it’s albatross but I think I’m wrong – yep here it is Centaur. (Resist urge to explain to five year old how remarkable today’s technology is because in my day we’d have to take a stab at looking it up in the dictionary – a big heavy book made of paper). 

Is the witch afraid of Aslan? 

Yes and No. 

Why does the witch ride around in a sled? 

She just does. 

Is Aslan really dead? 

Just wait and watch! 

And on and on.

Also, I’ve been thinking some on how I hate that Naveen will be three in 2013, technically not a baby anymore. And I wish I could bottle up the way he says Dora the Explorer– Doe-ah tha Expo-ah, and how he periodically tells me he wants to pretend he is a baby so that I have to hold him like I used to when he was an infant, cradled in my arms while he says “ga-ga, goo-goo” because that’s how babies talk.

And I have been wishing that I’d thought to include some other things in Deaglan’s birthday letter things like:

• He’s one of my favourite people to hang with – maybe stating the obvious I know but still
• I hate that he realized the correct term was speed limit not speed lemon as he’d previously thought for a long time
• If you ask him what his favourite thing about Christmas is he’ll say it’s spending time with his family – originally he’d said the presents were his favourite part but changed his mind after I told him the right answer. Oh the power of parenting the very, very young.

This evening I’m going to run my first 10K race.  I wish it was a morning run but it starts at five. Then we’ll celebrate New Year’s Eve with some lobster, scallops and champagne. We’re sick and will likely be in bed by ten the latest. We got hats and blowers for the kids. It promises to be a real party. I’ll let you know how my run goes.  

Oh and Happy New Year!

We celebrated Deaglan's birthday (for the 48th time this month) with Shaune's family.

I had to include this shot of me because it's a pretty accurate portrayal of my reaction when Shaune breaks out the camera. I think this might have been Christmas Eve night when I realized I wasn't feeling well and there were a hundred things to do (assemble toys, fill stockings etc) before I could go to bed.

The thing about Pinterest

This morning on my run, I decided that when I got home I was going to bake Halloween cupcakes with the boys. I took mental inventory of the ingredients we had in the cupboards– a Betty Crocker cake mix, a handful of chocolate chips, food colouring and sprinkles and enough icing sugar to make a simple frosting. 

The endorphin high around the seventh kilometer had me envisioning a Pinterest worthy scene, where the boys were licking batter off mixers while I pulled light fluffy golden cupcakes out of the oven to cool. I imagined us sitting at the table, happily decorating each cupcake with colourful frosting, a little dab on Naveen’s nose, while I snapped adorable pictures to post here.

I hate when the kids deliberately ruin my good parenting moments. I mean don’t they understand I’m trying to make memories here?

If I wasn’t begging Deaglan to stop eating the cake mix to which I hadn’t even added the wet ingredients, well then I was chasing Naveen around the house to retrieve my measuring cups and spatula. And after I fished 48 pieces of eggshell out of the bowl because Deaglan was being such a great helper, I practically had to put him in a headlock to find out where the vanilla extract was. He’d shoved it into one of his rocket ships so that I had to use the skinniest tongs we own and with the precision of a surgeon liberate the small container from within the bowels of the toy.

Finally when I’d set the sprinkles and icing on the table, told the boys they each had a decorating station of their own there was a five minute stretch of arguing about who had more sprinkles. Pinching and shoving ensued so that wearily I had to threaten time outs and promises that no one would be eating any bloody cupcakes if this continued.

It made me think of something my brother Craig’s wife posted yesterday -  one of those signs you see everywhere on facebook these days. It said:

Someday we’ll find out that Pinterest is a conspiracy created by a group of men who are tricking women everywhere into cooking, cleaning and working out.