The long road to Spring

We’re more than halfway through a new month of a brand new year and you’ll be comforted to know that nothing much has changed around here. Mornings are still harried as I race against the clock to get myself and two boys out the door looking our parts: me – business casual, them – ready for running, jumping and whatever they do that has worn out the knees on just about every pair of pants they own, all the while remembering everything it entails: a packed lunch and backpack, dry mittens, hats, zippers and snowpants, homework and signed notes, and often, a toy or well-loved stuffy to bring the familiarity of home to where they spend their days.

Many mornings go as smooth as these things can, meaning I’ve used minimal bribery for cooperation, I’ve not had to yell (too much) to be heard, and our goodbyes are said without tears or resentment.

But many mornings have been the exact opposite of this.

Our nights fare about the same: pick-ups spent gathering wet mittens and hats, slapdash dinners from whatever we remembered to put on the grocery list, homework and note-signing, bath-times and bedtimes, and a generous glass of wine to tie it all together.

Always a glass of wine.

Since I posted last, I’ve read halfway through two books, built three Lego vehicles, straightened out four junk drawers, donated five bags of clothes, and ice skated for the first time in almost 26 years. I also started drinking more water, and watching The Guardian on Netflix.

Two words: Simon.Baker.

It’s that long, hard part of winter and I’m doing my best to make the best of it. By practicing radical self-care (as Anne Lamott calls it), I’m hoping to cheat the system. I’m cleaning and purging, organizing and hydrating, reading and sticking to my routines. I'm also staying far, far away from sugar and cuddling the kids as much as I can.

And if I can remember to do it, I’m thinking good, wholesome, positive thoughts. Sometimes it's the only way to neutralize the winter blues.

One morning last week, I woke Naveen up, and held his sleepy little body on my hip.  With his arms around my neck he asked me if it was the weekend yet. It was only Tuesday. I kissed his head and tried to think of a way to answer that without making it sound like Saturday was eons away. 

It sure felt like it to me.

Santa left Jenga under the tree for Deaglan. We played the intended way a few times but he found more fun ways to use the wooden pieces.

Please ignore the empty raisin box. And the empty playdough container. And the unswept bit of floor.

That's a tiny Lego Mutant Ninja Turtle on top of that tower.
 Leonardo, to be accurate.

There's been lots of time spent in our favourite pajamas.

Lots of time spent watching our favourite shows. With Raphael.

 

Are you impressed with my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle know-how? Naveen always is...he asks me at least five times a day who my favourite Turtle is. I always say  the same thing. Hands down Michaelangelo, Dude!

 

And I got to wander a thrift store for a few hours to start this gallery wall.

 

What about you, what are you doing on these long cold winter days? 

 

Shaky commitments

On my run this morning I was listening to some of the greats –you know, Ludacris, Jayzee, P Diddy, when a city bus blocked my path. The driver got out and strolled into the Starbucks. The passengers looked on, they didn’t seem the least bit peeved. It was Saturday after all.

The driver’s body language was unapologetic, he walked with one hand in his pants pocket, slow but deliberate, his hair trimmed neatly; he was handsome, maybe 35. He likes a good strong coffee, I thought. Maybe he’ likes a coffee joint who gives its employees a decent wage and benefits. Maybe he's an advocate of fair trade. Who knows?

I ran past, crunched the snow-covered boulevard, and went back to admiring Sean Kingston’s rapping. I had no clue what he was talking about but liked it nonetheless. 

I considered what I wanted to accomplish this year. I don’t bother much with resolutions but it’s almost impossible not to think about them a little when you’ve got a fresh new year ahead.

Over the Christmas break Deaglan called me out on one of my failings. “You never play with me anymore,” he said. Shaune looked up from his phone. This oughtta be good, he probably thought. I’ve said it before; I just don’t know how he does it. He plays with the kids all the time. Me? I cuddle. I kiss. I snuggle. I read. But I can’t seem to get the playing part down.

It feels like swimming to me.

When I’m in a pool for exercise purposes, 15 minutes feels like seven hours. And I keep looking up at the clock. But after that day, I tried harder. I started with the easy stuff. We played Candyland over and over. We did Spiderman puzzles. I’ve been working my way up to role play, the hardest kind of play for me. 

I just never know what to say when I have to be the evil Batman.

And I’ve been thinking about how little I wrote last year. It bothers me every single day because I think about writing almost all the time. But I don’t sit down to do it because well, because there’s laundry to fold, dishes to put away, the kids to snuggle, and I’m at work all day.

More play. More writing. Sounds good doesn’t it?

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.

A look back at 2010 and a look ahead

This year has been bittersweet. Bitter because in May I lost Matt. Even though I've had a rich life already, peppered with loss and renewal, joy and sorrow, this passing devastated me. I grieve for him everyday.

And sweet because I was blessed with Naveen Matthew . He is a daily reminder of how good life is, how fortunate I am to be his mother.

I always think it's been a successful year if I've stretched myself a little. If I was willing to learn how to be different if something I was doing wasn't working.

I tried to let go of my selfishness a little, not give my ego centre stage when possible and allowed the idea that I might not always be right lead me a little.

I learned that standing by a belief, unwavering no matter what, might not be the best way. That pliability is more humane.

I hope that in the new year I can find new ways to do better. Be kinder, gentler, quieter. I hope that I write more, complain less, and spend most of my time striving to be the best me.

I found this quote on a friend's blog:

Let no one ever come to you without leaving better or happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile.


Mother Theresa


Happy New Year to all of you who take the time to come here. Thank you!