I'll Take New Math Any Day

Do you have a child in school? Have you heard that the 'new' math will make your head hurt, that even if you have a university math degree you will be challenged with the equations and theories of the looming math curriculum? I read an article in MacLean's recently that talked about parents attending 'tutoring' sessions to learn, understand and have a hope in hullabaloo of helping their third graders with numbers.

None of this scares me. I have a box of cheerios in the cupboard, worst comes to worst I can dump them on the table and we will get the answer the old fashioned way. Run out of cheerios, I'm not beyond having the entire family remove their socks to get the job done. Math doesn't make me sweat.

Technology does. I'm not daft when it comes to clicking a mouse, downloading files and uploading data, videos and photos. I'm pretty comfortable with it actually and if I run into an issue beyond my scope I call my brother, he's a programmer. If we are still up against a wall we put the question out to social media circles, someone out there always knows what to do. Even armed, technological homework is migraine inducing.

This week E has been creating something called a 'glogster' (yes, we don't know what that is either) The best description I can give you is an electronic poster. A screen shot. The basic work was well completed but E wanted to use the 'add a video' feature. He clicked the button and after take 64, was happy with his performance. He clicked the button to add the video. The little scrolly 'transferring data bar' began scrolling. It was taking a really long time, more than 15 minutes so we clicked stop and started from scratch. This time I clicked the buttons. The scrolly bar began and we let it go, 20 minutes, 30 minutes 45 minutes, I sent E to bed. The video was 2 minutes long after 2 hours I cancelled the transfer. In the morning we tried again this time we recorded the video on my phone and tried to upload it to the site. Fail. E decided to skip the video and replace it with a photo and some separate audio. Picture success, audio fail. Once, twice, three, four, nine, twelve times. Eventually we saved what there was. I wrote a note of extreme frustration to the teacher and I think he might have gotten to school on time.

If this had been a one time event I could cruise through, chalk it up and move on but this is reoccurring techno-frustration. We do this every month. A wiki, a voki, a glogster, a bitstrip. I can't do it anymore. I get that technology is in the classroom, I get that it is pertinent. I don't get how a family that might not have some savvy, a programming brother or the social webisphere is suppose to support the initiative. There is no box of something in the cupboard you can poor on the table to do things the old fashioned way there is only failure to understand and succeed.

For the record E can manipulate the computer and Internet better than a great many adults I know and even he is getting frustrated with the untested - uni-tried sites and spaces that are suppose to be delivering his technological learning.

Needless to say Gratitude today for the personal knowledge that my son will grow up to be a fine technical savvy young man despite failing to impress his fourth grade techno-teacher. Oh, and for my own creative efforts to express frustration in words that don't begin with 'F'.

Michelle

Dreaming the Hotdog Dream

The time has arrived in our world for Lula and KJ to begin selecting their courses for the next year in high school. I never panic too much about the process, I let them choose whatever they want basicly. I know that's not how you are suppose to do it. I understand that you are suppose to work with them to develop a post secondary strategy and then guide them in selecting the courses that will get them to their goal. I understand that is how the good honor roll, ivy league parents get the job done. I also don't care.

When E-man was little (or littler than he is now) he had one desire. He wanted to be a hotdog. Not the guy showing off on the basketball court or the hockey rink, or a guy who makes hotdogs, not even a guy dressed up as hot dog. He wanted to be an actual hotdog. A real live, lips and arsehole tube steak on a good old fashioned enriched white roll with ketchup. It was hilarious! In his defence he was not quite three years old and being a hotdog was as plausible as being a princess, a juggler at the circus or a mermaid. We got such a kick out of it we used to use him like a party trick... “Grandma, ask E what he wants to be when he grows up.” For 6 months anytime someone asked his answer was 'A Hotdog' there was no wavering. Something else that never wavered was the reaction. “That's silly, you can't be a hotdog!”

At first E was adamant that 'yes he could so be a Hotdog' he would argue and defend his dream. By the end of his 6 month hotdog dream he was answering with 'I know.' Looking back it kind of breaks my heart, he didn't know he couldn't be a hotdog, not until everybody told him it wasn't possible, not until everyone told him that his dream was silly. Eventually he wanted to be a policeman like every other little boy.

We do this, in the name of securing good futures for our kids, we rob them of their dreams or rather opportunities to dream every day. We tell them what they should be pursuing, guide them away from pursuits that seem pointless, fruitless and time wasting. We redirect them and tell them them when they want to be a hotdog that their dream is silly and not achievable.

How on earth do you discover that you have a passion to climb a mountain if no one ever lets you wander in the foothills with a rope and a carabiner?

High school is an amazing opportunity to try everything and anything on. Where else can you be a chef in the morning, an account executive before lunch and an auto mechanic in the afternoon. I have one rule when it comes to picking courses. Pick whatever you want, as long as you go, as long as you give it your all. It's your life, your choices, your future. If I steer your ship, you may never discover the land that excites your passion. There will always be time to reroute, pick up the courses you need and re-chart your course. They may very well be in high school for 8 years, I get that. I also get that is so much easier than waking up each and everyday heading into your job as a pharmacist wishing you were a hotdog.

Gratitude today for the freedom to dream.

"Dream, all things are possible for those who believe"

Michelle

It Takes a Pineapple Some Days to Raise a Family

Parenting met desperation Monday evening and to quote my 14 year old KJ "You can't even know" I swear you can't.

There is a saying in our home, "It's a short walk from laughter to tears" That phrase was coined for nights like this. It started innocently enough with the regular bantering and bickering around the supper table. The kids poking fun at one another, Dad getting in on the act. KJ spilling chicken noodle soup on her freshly self laundered shirt and pants.  A few ohhs and ahhs, a smart remark about karma and KJ was quickly to terms with her need to perform laundry duties again.

Best line of the night goes to Lula. Just after the soup incident she looked across the table at KJ "You have a Jabba The Hut on your shirt, You know... like how some people see Jesus in their toast? Like that, only it's Jabba"

I laughed so hard my sides hurt but I wasn't in tears, not yet. We arrived at tears less than a minute and a half post Jabba sighting.

It started with a chicken soup noodle which lead to a child covered in mustard. You don't really need me to expand in detail, suffice it to say the decibel level in our home reached heights attainable only by teenage girls furiously vieing for fairness, consequence, expressive contempt and the title of 'right'.

Insert tears, internal gut wrenching - I've had enough tears (mine mostly).

Welcome to Mom-rant.

I was already there waiting for everyone else to catch up with me. I ranted about personal respect, appropriate behaviour, clogged toilets, plungers, cellphones, dog pee, homework, laundry, vacuuming, chores, suitcases, blankets, pop cans and socks. By the time I got to maxi pads and backpacks I had 2 cell phones, an Ipod and the first born child of each one of my kids.

I also had a huge case of "who decided that I was capable of this doing this job?" That's a bad place for moms. It leads to one of two destinations; 'I'll show you' or 'My kids are doomed'. I turned left and march right into 'I'll show you.' I stood in the heart of the house and summoned all inhabitants back the table where the wheels fell off. I had some things to say. Mostly things like 'I've had enough' and 'there are going to be some changes around here'. I have some really great tools in the 'family tune-up' kit.

Nobody rushed to the table. For a few minutes I sat there alone organizing my thoughts, preparing my stance, outlining my strategy, starring at a pineapple. It took Mike a few minutes to herd every one to the conference. In those few minutes the pineapple had talked me down off my ledge.

Instead of launching into my speech when all seats were filled, I left the table to grab a cutting board, my chef's knife, a bowl and Mike's brand-new-never seen before-who knows if it works-pineapple slicer. I laid everything out in the middle of the table and sat back. Somebody was going to pay for the atmosphere in the house, it might as well be a pineapple.

Within a few minutes three kids began working together to figure out the gadget and produce a long curly spiral of pineapple and a nifty pineapple drinking glass. We weren't heading to 'This place sucks' anymore we were heading back to laughter with a gentle reminder that it as easy to spiral up as it is to spiral down you just need to change direction.

Gratitude today to Mike's gadget, the curiosity of children and a pineapple which sacrificed itself in the name of family intervention.


Gratefully,
Michelle

Wednesday's Example of Domestic Backfire

Usually if I post on Wednesday, I call it Wednesday's Example of Domestic Bliss. Today however, I have a Domestic Backfire.

It is no secret that I have issues with plastic food storage. I have lids, I have containers, I have drawers and boxes of plastic convenience. Never mind that my lids don't match or fit the containers.... the point is that I have them!

Because I am challenged in the retention, compatibility and use of plastic storage, when things need storing I generally turn to this...

This solution is continually regenerated and I do not mourn the loss of container or lid.

I do however miss the butter when Michael accidentally mistakes it as part of his lunch and takes it to work.

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.

Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

A Tuesday Foodday

It has been a while since I did a Tuesday Foodday post. That is because I created a space just for food posting. Smothered in Butter.

However, today I'm going to do a Foodday post because I really need your help!

Please click on the pic below to check out me dilemma and help a mother out!



Taking you to Smothered in Butter for a Mother's cry for help

 

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.


Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

Your Motorcycle is My Cat

For a very long time Michael has wanted a motorcycle. He's been researching and looking. We've had discussions about bringing a motorcycle into the house. He has promised to get all of the safety equipment and to take the courses and to always be responsible on and for his motorcycle. I have been nodding my head, playing devil's advocate and encouraging his research. Truthfully, I've been placating him much the same way you do with a child who wants a pet. Casually agreeing and faining interest are usually enough to be supportive of an idea long enough for husbands and children to move on to some other desire De jour.

Its a gamble, 9 times out of 10 an interest is passing...1 time out of 10 they call your bluff and bring the motorcycle home. 

I like to play that I have a hard time with the motorcycle. It would be remiss of me after all, to pass up an opportunity to be 'difficult.' Secretly, I am really quite thrilled for Mike. He is so excited about his new bike, just like a kid who got a new puppy. 

There is that pet thing again, the topic seems inescapable....I've suddenly had a vision of the future.

Lula has been going on about a cat. A kitten actually. The research of costs, accessories and 'kitten free to a good home' ads have begun. As too, have the promises to love, care and clean up after little 'Mortimer.' (they name them you know, before actual acquisition. It's a tactic, naming something makes it harder for Mom and Dad to say no.) I have begun nodding my head and encouraging the research. Except in this case I secretly am truly encouraging the research, I would love a cat too.

How can you resist?



The suggestion of bringing a cat into the house has incited an uproar from the family's contingent of dog lovers. KJ is taking the bargaining position, offering to forgo birthday and Christmas presents and opt out of back to school clothes, whatever it takes to increase our family by one dog.

E-man is our man on the fence but not without a plan. He is very cleverly siding with whomever seems to be in the best position of getting what they want at any given moment. Dog, cat, motorcycle doesn't matter, he's like the dark horse on survivor, playing to the good side of the strongest alliance. He's going to win either way. 

This all puts me somewhere in the future... riding on the back of a motorcycle, holding a small dog in a purse, while at home, a cat quietly fills his litter pan and sleeps on top of my desk, in the room I've just converted into an office because the last of the kids has left for University, leaving their pets in the capable hands of Mom and Dad. 



Can you resist this either?



It's inevitable! KJ wants a dog like Lula wants a cat. Lula wants a cat like Michael wanted a motorcycle. Michael brought a motorcycle home so we are going shopping for dog tags and litter pans.

Wait until they find out what I want!

Gratitude today is for the art of negotiation and compromise in the pursuit of family harmony.

 Are you in negotiations at home too? What was the last thing you got that you weren't sure you wanted?

This is my post that was lost when Blogger went down...I am SO grateful to have it back!

 

Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.


Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

The 2 Great Food Fights of 2011

It's no secret that I am a conflicted individual when it comes to food. I spend a portion of my days serving up fast food to carb, fat, sugar addicted individuals. I cringe everyday actually that I dawn that polyester uniform and visor. While I realise that my tenure within the establishment was always meant as a temporary solution to an employment problem the guilt is immense.

I can not tell you how many times a day I want to say "have a nice day, I do apologize for contributing to your health crisis. Could I ask you not to come again? Perhaps we could meet out back and I could share some healthy eating suggestions. Please stop killing yourself." 

I really want to say this but I don't because truthfully, I need this job for another couple of months until my real job transitions into it's full-time status. I need this job serving bad food so that I can put good food on my table and into my children.

I remember when I took the job initially. My kids laughed, they didn't believe me. They were concerned that I would have an emotional melt down going to the job on a daily basis, they said "isn't that hypocritical?" then they said "You're not going to bring it home are you?"

I felt wonderful. Food fight #1 the daily internal conflict of how I live vs. how I finance it.

Food Fight # 2 is more of a real time battle. Filled with strategy, culinary weaponry and convert operations. I've never gone to war over food in our home. My children eat every vegetable and fruit imaginable (except brussel sprouts, for which I also harbour a strong dislike, so we don't argue) It's been a simple matter of what's been offered up since day one. Babyfood started with vegetables for entree and fruit for dessert, fruits and veggies were the snacks provided to toddlers. Dinner always includes veggies. Lunches get bagged everyday so that lunch away from home is nutritious too. As a result our kids reach for their 5 to 10 without a second thought. Sure they enjoy sweet snacks too but it's a balancing act.

Okay perhaps kids who eat lamb, seafood and quinoa may seem a tad alien to most people but I promise dinners are peaceful. No vegetable battles. Until recently...

Circumstances within our extended family have brought our 3 young nephews to share our home on a routine basis. I was prepared for the changes in family schedule Wednesdays and alternate weekends. I was prepared for the time, patience, laundry, sleeping arrangements and toy chaos. I was not prepared for 'culinary warfare.'

Off the list: carrots, beans, tomatoes, corn, cucumbers, apples, oranges, pears, lettuce, peppers, onions, plums, kiwi, pineapple, broccoli, mushrooms, watermelon, cantaloupe.....perhaps a list of accepted food would be shorter. On the list: Chicken nuggets, French fries, hotdogs, grilled cheese sandwiches, bananas, milk, cookies, dunkaroos, fruit gummy snacks, juice, crackers....well you get the idea.

I was stunned. Determined to introduce my love of healthy food to my young impressionable nephews, they have no idea what they are missing.

It was quickly evident with the number of beans, grapes and peas stuffed in pant legs and pockets, the apples flushed down the toilet and the sweepings from the floor that a little creative presentation was necessary.

First we went to the grocery store so that I could get a handle on what they did like to eat. Maybe they had a palette for fruits and veggies, perhaps I just wasn't stocking the fridge with what they like. Well that was an eye opening mission, clearly I wasn't off track in my assumptions and since I wasn't willing to stock my cupboards with cheezies and dingdongs I had my work cut out for me.

Time to built my arsenal...

I use my kids. I take no shame in dragging them into the conflict. I use their names and food choices. I hold them up as examples of kids choosing good foods.

I use my kitchen. I give everybody meal preparation jobs. cutting, washing, setting the table. Anything to give them ownership of what was going on the table and hopefully into their mouths.

I make sure I offer something I know they will eat along with one or two items I am sceptical of.

I choose basics. No sense going for avocado if I can't get them to eat apples.

We make muffins and rice cereal treats. Yes, I use their own creations against them. These items have become rewards for trying something new at any given meal.

I employed flexibility. The request is that you try everything at least. If you really don't like it you don't have to clean your plate of it but you have to taste it at least.

We have specified battle times. Lunch and Dinner.

So far the Food Fight seems to be going at an even draw although I think I may be gaining ground. My table picnics and grocery store games are having some positive affects on our mutual understanding.

In 8 short weeks we have moved carrots, peppers, peas, corn, pears, tomato sauce (cleverly disguising mushrooms, onions and celery) savory sauces and perhaps the greatest accomplishment FISH onto the accepted foods list!!!! granted the fish was disguised as "fingers" but they know what they were eating and I think we might be able to serve some sans breading!

The War is far from won but we celebrate every minor victory with high fives and mentions of pride. I think we might actually be fighting on the same team to some degree. The struggle is that the time we have to expose their tastebuds to different foods is limited. The day is not far off when they will leave our table save for the occasional visit for dinner. The goal is to change there perception of food so that they are risk takers, willing to try things they haven't before.

So those are the 2 great Food Fights of 2011. One internal and one active conflict. In an attempt to ease my conscious a wee bit and to further fuel my imaginative culinary weaponry I have signed on to Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. Lula gave me the book as a gift for Christmas, knowing how I adore Jamie and my ever growing cookbook collection. Putting it All Into a Bowl of Chili was a post I made not too long ago around this book and I hope to do more. This is kind of why I chose Tuesday for this post. I was thinking about a weekly food centered offering...Tuesdays seem like a good day.

What do you think about Tuesday Foodday? Do you have food battles raging in your home? Any tips or tricks you're willing to pass along? I'd love to add your ideas to my arsenal!

Stop by The Food Revolution site and join your name in the pursuit of better eating!


Spend some moment everyday in reflection of gratitude and happiness. Even if the time found is standing in line for coffee...use is wisely.


Michelle


Did this post brighten your day? make you smile? If so I'd be ever so grateful if you shared it on Facebook or Twitter. Someone else might be in need of a smile - Thanks!

A Celebration a Cause for Question

I woke up this morning in a bit of a funk. Funk and Mom never pair well and I feel an unparalleled level of guilt with today being Easter. Easter is perhaps the catalyst for my mood actually. I am always torn and guilt ridden in the face of religious custom. I grew up in a moderately religious home, the kind where we said grace and bedtime prayers and put on our Sunday clothes once a week. We looked good going to church, just like the sketch on the front of my children's prayer book. Looks aren't everything though and I grew into an adult more concerned with how I felt on the inside rather than how I looked to the outside world. I abandoned (that word seems extreme) organized religion. That is not to say that I am no longer religious I simply believe that the teachings and principals should be a way you live not something you demonstrate.

Michael's religious upbringing consisted of jumping on the Sunday school bus 3 times to help a buddy win a bike. He grew into a man who realised that something is fundamentally missing from a life lived without the presence of a higher power.

This hangs by our front door. Little rules to life.

So we don't go to church. We home-school our family in religion, our take on it anyway. A hybrid of the religious teachings from my childhood coupled with a modernized approach to living a life of grace, respect and compassion for the people we share life with. It's difficult to put into words exactly, perhaps a photo does it better.

This is how we do it and I sleep well at night, I feel fulfilled with my life each day and I am confident that our children are growing up to be respectful compassionate citizens who appreciate that life is about the 'who' not the 'what', the 'why' not the 'how.'  Then a major religious holiday like Christmas or Easter hits and I am derailed by guilt. Should I be going to church? Am I doing a huge disservice to my children by not exposing them to organized religion? Would we be a family of more well rounded people if we participated in ceremony? Am I doing enough to teach them the biblical stories behind the holidays we celebrate?

Couple religious guilt with the tumultuous currents in our extended family relationships and today was a day I wanted to bury face and sleep through. I don't, after all, do drama well. I believe in telling it like I see it brutal honestly and it's not received very well, to put in polite terms. So today, in the interest of peace and doing something kind and helpful for at least one person, we are abstaining from the usual family gathering.

We are looking forward instead to a casual dinner with friends, centered around children and family. We will guild the day in chocolate and wash it down with a glass of wine and before I go to sleep tonight I will say a prayer of gratitude. Gratitude for the promise of Easter. Gratitude that if I am doing life all wrong, there is forgiveness granted through the sacrifice of My Father's Son.