How to Walk a Cat

Where we used to live there was a man who used to walk his cat. This fascinated me, I would see him strolling at a snail's pace down the sidewalk with his black and white short hair on the end of a red leash and I would think to myself, "There is an unbelievable feat!"

I've had cats all my life, they are obstinate, fickle creatures with high self-regard and survival-level tolerance for human beings. In the great who's smarter debate; dogs or cats? I take the feline position understanding that it takes superior intelligence to not be trained. Dogs win in the emotional strength category. Cat smarts is probably the reason for my awe every time I saw this man walking his cat. Either A) his cat had a dog level IQ or B) he had uncovered some amazing secret to keeping a cat on the end of a leash.

At some point in my pinball parenting I told my kids about this neighbour who used to walk his cat around the block. We all make rookie mistakes, a mistake like telling your kids a cat can be walked, is one regretted before the punctuation is formed on the end of your sentence. 'why, why, why did I say something so stupid?' *mom smacks head against wall* This is what I think every time one of my kids says "I want to take the cat for a walk." The conversation plays out like this...

Kid #1 or #3 (#2 knows cats don't walk) "Where is the leash? I want to take the cat for a walk"
Me: "The leash is only for tying the cat out, cats don't walk."
Kid: "I want to try."
Me: "You can not walk a cat, they are not like dogs."
Kid: "But you said one time we had a neighbour that used to walk his cat."
Me: "Yes, but..."
Kid: "I want to try."
*sigh* I know this will end with frustration. Once it ended with a call home..."I got the cat this far and I can't get him back, will you come get us? I tried to pick him up but he keeps scratching me. pleaaaaase!"
Me: "No, walk the dog."
Kid: "Well, how come that man at our old house could walk his cat if you can't walk a cat? How?"
Me: "I don't know."
Kid: "But if that man walked his cat, you must be able to."
Me: "Go to bed."

Really the story of the man walking his cat is just a catalyst for ceaseless Q & A. I have low tolerance for that mind-numbing lunacy.

There is usually a time span between "Cat-walk sessions" unless of course, like now when the air is fresh and the sun is shining, the cat is itching to get out of the house and the kids are looking to escape chores. Then I get inundated.

Part of the frustration is because I really wish I knew how the guy managed to walk that darned cat. It would be cool to take the cat and the dog for a walk.

Tonight the topic came up again. After so many attempts to explain the mentality of cats to my kids and why they are untrainable and un-walkable. I threw my hands into the air and spat out...

"He could walk the cat because he wasn't in a hurry, he was a retired guy who had no time frame on getting the cat around the block!"

Boom... discussion done, never to be had again. In one explosive blurt of frustration I solved two nagging issues. 1st, I halted the conversation forever because #2 I figured it out, by not trying to figure it out.

He could walk the cat because he wasn't in a hurry. He knew he would get home all he had to do was let the cat set the pace. 

Ahhhhhh...that exact moment was like finding out the Caramilk Secret, for a split second my life was complete.

Gratitude today for the sudden gob-smacked understanding that people who achieve great feats do it in their own time at a pace of least resistance, always moving in the direction of their destination.

Here's to a great weekends, clarity and the anticipation of a great week ahead!

Michelle

Slinkys

Raising teenagers is like sending a slinky down the stairs; you know it's going to run off course and get stuck. Guide and nudge that's your job. - Michelle

Image Source Page: http://www.originalslinky.com

There was never a more frustrating exercise for me as a kid than playing Slinkys. I loved them! I loved the metallic swoosh, swoosh, swoosh sound they made. I loved the way they seemingly 'floated' from one hand to the other under their own momentum. I loved racing Slinkys down the stairs. I loved it but really it was more frustration than pleasure. I would poise my Slinky strategically on the top step  and wait for the signal, then give it a nudge to send it on it's way.

Sometimes that dam Slinky would fly over the first three steps and bounce the rest of the way down. One time in six I would get lucky and the first push was precise and set the perpetual motion into effect, my Slinky would 'walk' down those stairs like a commercial champion, get 4 steps into the journey and coil itself back up into a stack and wait for all the other Slinkys to 'sproing' on by. As I write I an trying desperately to playback memory footage to a time when I executed a perfect Slinky run. I can't find one, I'm fairly confident in telling you that it never happened. It never happened but I loved that game anyway. I would spend hours setting my Slinky up to fail, redirecting it's path and restarting it time and again when it got stuck on the journey.

I never won a Slinky race but I always celebrated my Slinky landing at the bottom of the stairs. I celebrated because that was the triumph, not how elegantly your coil got to the bottom of the stairs but that it got there at all. I celebrated because of the one thing every Slinky player knew; every time you launched your spring you ran the risk of it getting tangled on itself. If that happened you were done. You can't untie a Slinky, just any Dad presented with a mass of wire by a sobbing 4 year old. You could probably avoid the whole mess by keeping your Slinky on a shelf and just saying "look, I have a Slinky." I knew kids who did that, but that is not what Slinkys are for.

Gratitude today to my teenagers Slinkys. The game is always fresh, frustrating and fun. Most of all you give me so many reasons to celebrate, no matter how many times I push you down the stairs and how much work it takes to get you to the bottom, you always get there 'untangled' in perfect form. Lucky for Dad...Moms are a lot easier to untie.

Have a fun weekend everyone!

Gratitude, Hope and Smiles are meant to be shared - get to work!

Michelle

Raising a Loser

We've reached the end of our inaugural hockey season, save for a friendship tournament next weekend, our league play is done. Yesterday was a disappointing finish for the kids and this morning you could hear the confusion over their placing. I can't blame them I am also incredibly confused. Our team finish on top of the standings for the playoffs but we won't be playing in the final game because we lost our very first playoff game yesterday. The only game apparently that counted for the series.

I swear I will never understand this stuff, but the Dads who do understand the logistics of round robin play have been busy explaining and reassuring kids that yes, while it makes no sense and seems incredibly unfair it is how everything plays out.

So we lost, and that's okay, or at least that's what we say to the kids, you played hard, you had fun, you did your best. - what a crock, nobody likes to lose, it's not okay. be sad, talk about it, be disappointed, wallow...and get over it, you've got exactly 10 minutes.

I'll give you 10 minutes then we're going to talk about the journey.

Let's celebrate the kids who very literally could not even skate when the season kicked off, and the kids who could not pass the puck. How about those first half a dozen games where you got your butts whooped over and over again, those were fun. Not as much fun as the very first game you won maybe, but they were a place of great learning. What about your favourite moments of the season, lets talk about those; the string of wins, the Christmas Tournament that ended in shoot-out madness, the game at the OHL arena where they announced your names and pumped rally tunes. Those were favourite memories. How about the time your goalie had to leave the ice and you played empty netted for almost a full period and denied the other team a single goal...that was awesome! I personally really enjoyed watching the camaraderie grow. In the beginning the locker room was a quiet, sterile place, months later parents are lined up in the hallway wondering if you are ever going to quit goofing around and emerge.

So yes, I know losing sucks and the way you lost your place in the standings seems unfair and you are disappointed. You also played your best because great volunteers who spent their Saturdays and Sundays  for the last 6 months taught you never to give less. You did have fun because you played with your friends. You fought hard for that loss - you were after all playing to win.

Mostly, you've won so much more than you've lost, it's hard to see right now but I promise it is something you can be proud and happy with!

Gratitude to the coaches, the time keepers, parent taxis, convenors, coffee barristas, Zamboni drivers, the good sports and the referees. Gratitude to all parents across the Hockey Nation this week who are 'raising' losers - it can be hard to remind them that there is no such thing - Well Played!

Michelle

With a Little Help from My Friends

This is a piece I should not be writing. It has the potential to embarrass a child and exacerbate an already tense situation. I'm just so freaked out by the service of *wait for it* ... a cell phone company of all creatures, that I am going to write it anyway.  In the interest of preserving family harmony and respecting the privacy of a teenager I'm just going to pretend it happened to someone else.

So my friend has teenagers, my friend also has grey hair, frazzled nerves, a zest for life and a positive outlook on her current situation and the future. As I understand it teenagers can sometimes test your patience. It is not their fault they really don't have much control over their developing brains or hormones. The poor creatures are continually trying to navigate that delicate balance between stability and instability while trying desperately to separate themselves from the apron strings in preparation for adulthood. I really do have to commend them for the difficulties they face on a daily basis while they navigate through this storm. I remember being there, it was not an easy place to be.

On occasion however teenagers get caught up in themselves. They think themselves braver than they believe and wiser than they think. They test the limits too thoroughly and need to be reeled back in. Right around this same time they also believe they are more cleaver than their parents.

My friend's daughter was riding one of these big for her britches highs recently. Mistakenly deciding that she had attained an age where the rules of family life and respect no long were applicable to one so mature and capable. Oh, my poor friend her children really are capable. The daughter began breaking curfew, ditching responsibilities, balking at simple house chores like pick up your dishes and hang up your coat. She was adopting an air of belligerence and sass. All intolerable behaviours in civilized circles. Routinely such behaviour would result in loss of privilege, most namely the confiscation of cellular devise.

My friend's clever daughter being ever so capable and bright could see this coming in the headlights and ditched the phone. "lost" it. On the premise that you cannot extract blood from a stone, you cannot take what is not there. No phone, nothing to loose.

There is more than one way to skin a cat however and my friend as a parent of teenagers has developed some skills of her own through out this adolescent storm.

I did say this was a story about a cell phone company didn't I? That cell phone company is Virgin Mobile. The phone company with the funky auto-attendants and super customer service staff. Virgin Mobile who earned my friends unwavering loyalty recently when she called to inquire about suspending service to a cellular devise.

Yes, Virgin Mobile clearly organized and staffed by the parents of teens. Service suspended... no additional charge for the suspension or the reinstatement (should that day arrive) Virgin mobile and the very kind customer service attendant who inquired if the suspension was due to the phone being lost? The dear who knocked the monthly bill down to a minimal $15 while on suspension when she was told the need for suspension was disciplinary.

Gratitude today from my  friend for some assistance from an unlikely source. Parenting is hard work she says we need all the help we can get.

I have a feeling that Virgin Mobile understands where the money comes from to pay those phone bills and that like in my friend's case, service suspension is not likely to last very long. It's surprising how a little disconnection can put things back on track.

Happy Friday - It seems like a day for grand adventure - go find one!

Michelle

Bullies are Not Born, They are Raised.

Having a child is the nursery school equivalent of being handed a hunk of plasticine, a pencil and a toothbrush and being told to make something fabulous. There are no clear parameters, you may or may not have the right tools for the job, the beauty and integrity of the finished piece is open to interpretation and at any given moment someone can come along and squish what you have been working so hard to accomplish. But the plasticine is yours and you get to do whatever you want with it.

This week is Peace Week. On Thursday, kids will wear pink in support of anti-bullying. Boys, girls, teachers all wearing pink in an effort to reshape the pieces being moulded by parents who fail to grasp the concept that they have a responsibility to raise healthy well rounded children with respect for society, compassion for their fellow human beings and tolerance.

Think I'm on a soap box? I am! My son gets bullied, he gets bullied by a boy who is half his size, who recruits other kids in a 'hate on for E-man' campaign, He gets bullied because he refuses to play the games that taunt other children, stands up to the kids who do, and asks for help from parents and teachers to put an end to it. The bully lives two houses down the street and so the troubles persist at home, during street hockey and basketball games, on bicycles, skateboards and walks with the dog.

I know that there are 3 reasons people say hurtful things...fear, jealousy, and negative self-worth. I know that two wrongs don't make a right and that the high road is the one less travelled. I also know what it feels like to be a victim, the shame, the sadness, the hurt.

I also understand that it is my responsibility to mould my hunk of plasticine into a well-rounded productive member of society who treats people fairly, with compassion and tolerance.

Lord help me, I get it. I also want lay a great big dose of "in your face" on the bully's father, who threatened my son yesterday and told him to shut the F*#@ up!  Yes, help me because I have to handle things like an adult SHOULD handle things, I have to hold our actions up to our son as an example. I have to hug him and tell him to ignore it, to walk away and pray for this person's healing. I have to explain that the only actions we can control are our own, that bad people will be present in his life from now until forever and that the best he can do is to develop a frame of mind, a personal way to cope. As the words are coming out of my mouth a conflict is raging inside my chest.

Yes, help me, because we are dealing with the situation, empowering our son, talking to the adults, preparing to involve authorities if needed to protect our 9 year old. Help me because I feel like a vein might just burst out of my temple while I suppress my anger so that we can demonstrate civility, compassion and diplomacy to our son and to his bully, who by the shear misfortune of parental neglect of duty doesn't know any better.

People are hurtful for 3 reasons

Fear

Jealousy

Negative self-worth

Raise your kids to be confident, content, tolerant and loved...

You are creating the future.

 Gratitude today, that while kids are moulded they are also re-mouldable. Gratitude to all those adults showing kids a better way. Gratitude, to everyone who will wear a pink shirt on Thursday, to all the kids who stand up against bullying, gratitude to the bullied who don't pay the torture forward.

Gratitude, to my son who will wear a pink t-shirt to school. Mostly because he likes the colour pink and understands that incredibly cool boys can wear pink with confidence, he understands this concept so well that he requested pink laces for his hockey skates. He understands too, that pink stands for something, hope, strength and in the case of his t-shirt this week… acceptance. He's going to wear the pink t-shirt to bring awareness to bullying; he will wear it to show a shoulder to shoulder resolve with his peers to put an end to school yard teasing, taunting and aggression.  

And I know that he will hope secretly that he will be spreading a personal message "please leave me alone."

Borrowed Gratitude

I'm always on the look out for the good that surrounds us everyday.

I captured this beautiful moment from a friend's facebook status....

You can't teach your kids this, but you hope that you show them the right stuff. Last night at the parents meet the teacher, Brandon went to the Book Fair and got a small thing. His friend that didn't have any money said "that looks kool, I wanted one, but really couldn't get one." So what does my son do? He used his money and went back in and bought his friend one. It's a wristband that says 'Stop Bullying'.
Brandon I'm so proud of you and that shows how big of a heart you have.

Gratitude today for the purity of children, from them we could all stand to learn so much. Gratitude to my friend Adam for sharing this moment - it made my day.

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

Recent Lessons in Domestic Goddess

I have done some pretty amazing things in the pursuit of domestic goddess status. I say pursuit, because we all are very aware that 'Momma got no skills'. Okay I can cook, but it is safe to say that all of my domestic talents are wholly invested in this single ability. Thank goodness an exceptional pot roast has the ability to erase the horror of perpetual basket diving for matching socks and that if you are eating a cookie you are blinded to the smeary nose and finger print covered sliding door.

The job of a family is to encourage you and challenge you to improve your short comings. My family is exceptional in this regard, they develop scenarios continually to exercise my domestic muscles. They get gum stuck in their hair, spill nail polish on the bathroom counter, draw notes on the bathroom mirror with chapstik and lipstick, launch entire jugs of grape juice skyward in the kitchen (purple rain is not metaphoric in our house). There are the hunting expeditions fit for blood hounds as I attempt to locate lost lunches and missing water bottles. There are chemistry lessons in stain removal and tests of mending...everything from zippers and pant seams to shoes and bicycles. When it comes to improving a mother, my family excels, and I owe them a world of gratitude. I have learned that I am more capable than I believe, that the impossible should at the very least be attempted and that you can surprise yourself with the results.

This week I also learned that when the cat pees in the Lego bucket it's not the end of the world. (as long as someone tells you) I also learned that my family still needs me. (their solution to this problem was to bag up $500 worth of feline christened Lego for the garbage! Ok, once upon a time that would have been my solution too.) This week I learned that I can trust my internal domestic goddess guidance system. This week I learned that you can wash, dry and fold Lego. Ok so I washed it in a bucket of disinfectant soap and water, I let it soak for a few days in disinfectant water (I didn't say I wasn't completely grossed out) on Friday I poured the Lego into a couple of pillow cases, tied the tops shut with broccoli elastics and threw the sacks into my clothes dryer with a couple of old pillows. 20 minutes on perma-press netted me clean wrinkle free Lego.

I knew that I had done well, when I unloaded the Lego back into the disinfected bin and E-man said "Ahh, it's so toasty and fresh." For a moment I thought perhaps a little domestic guru does live within me, for a moment I thought about how grateful I am for all the lessons my family has put before me, they unknowingly set me up for a moment of Domestic Goddessness. Next up...I'm going to move the appliances and face what lurks beneath...while I still feel domestically powerful and capable.

Gratitude to the voluntold family member with the bravery to help me with this challenge, I can teach you what I know about Domestic Goddessing.

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

Lessons from the First Day of School

Our family learned some very big lessons on the first day of school this year.

1. Awful people exist in this world
2. Good people exist in this world
3. Gratitude exists even in the depths of sorrow

I was nearing the end of my day at work, looking forward to getting home to the first day of school catch-up. I love all those papers to fill out and the stories from my kids about who is in their class and how the teachers are. The chatter on the very first day of school always fills a house with a buzz of excitement and pure joy.

Just past 3 o'clock my phone rang. Instantly upon hearing Michael's voice I knew our day had taken a sharp turn in an opposite emotional direction.

"The vet just called me... Clara has been hit by a car...she didn't make it."

My heart sank to my knees, as I thought about the big lovable, floppy ear basset hound, who just last month came to be part of our family.

The details were very vague. I understood that a neighbour was at the vet clinic, as was at least one of my girls, someone was picking E-man up from school and Clara was gone.

I shut down my work and raced out the door. That 15 minute drive to my kids felt like a million years! Pulling into the vet clinic my heart sank again, immediately, I recognized our neighbour Ed's truck and the car of my good friend Patti. Please tell me it wasn't one of them, I prayed, knowing that the only thing that could make this situation any more devastating was if one of my friends felt responsible.

Inside the clinic I was greeted by a visibly upset receptionist and an equally upset vet and technician who took me to my kids. They opened the door to a tiny room and there they all were. My three babies with tear stained cheeks, Patti with her mascara stained sweater, Ed and Colin clearly deflated. I hugged everyone, asked a few questions and sent the kids home with Patti. Ed stayed behind to catch me up, and hold me up while I dealt with the unpleasantness of saying goodbye and making arrangements with the clinic staff for Clara's burial.

I learned, that the dogs had managed to somehow escape the fenced yard,  thankfully Ed spotted them and let the girls knows. I knew that an army of adults and kids would not have been able to return those dogs home if they got out. They had only been with us a month and while we were working on obedience, when it came to some things they listened like teenagers.

I learned, that the person who hit Clara did not hesitate, did not stop, did not even look back...and my heart broke a little more. I learned that Ed picked Clara up and carried her back to his truck. I learned, that Colin helped Ed the last part of the way and comforted Clara in the back as they raced to the vet clinic down the street. I learned, that KJ accompanied Ed and Colin and Clara and that Lula went to get E-man from school. I learned, that Ed had to use colourful explicatives with a complete stranger at a four way stop and that KJ was touched by that gesture. I learned, that Shawnie took care of Cooper while Patti headed to the Vet clinic to take care of my family.

I learned, that thankfully, Clara did not suffer.

Around the table (when we finally got around to supper) Michael and I tried to focus the conversation around the first day of school. It was clear that most everyone's food was going to be cold rather than consumed and E-man excused himself time and again to blow his nose and wipe his eyes.

I asked KJ to start our gratefuls for the evening. "I am grateful that I didn't get lost on my first day of highschool today" she said.

E-man left the table again, this time sobbing.

Lula was furious with me. "We shouldn't be doing this today, it's too sad, there is nothing grateful about today"

I explained that this was the most important day to acknowledge some gratitude, that even on the very worst day of your life there exists reasons to be thankful.

E-man returned to the table.

Lula conceded and offered a grateful "The first day of grade 11 went pretty smoothly at school."

I offered my Gratitude "I am grateful that Dad didn't get hurt in his motorcycle fender-bender this afternoon." (yes other things also transpired that made the first day back to school one we'd rather forget) I really wanted to grateful for the vet clinic staff and our friends but I did not want to open the flood gates of emotion any further.

Clearly Michael didn't want to either, for his grateful was "I'm glad everyone's first day at school was okay."

E-man's turn came. He choked up terribly and for a minute I thought maybe Lula was right, this was a bad idea. Then came his gratitude....

"I am grateful that we have such good neighbours" he said.

And I learned.... That my son gets it. That even in the face of extreme sorrow he can choose to focus on the space between the raindrops.

The first day of school 2011 was filled with lessons...

1. Horrible people who would rundown a dog exist
2. There exists also wonderful souls like Ed, Colin, Patti, Shawnie, and the staff at Williamsburg Veterinary Hospital.
3. Gratitude exists in all circumstances

Our extreme gratitude to Ed, Colin, Patti, Shawnie, The Staff at Williamsburg Veterinary Hospital and to Lorraine and Sarah who blessed us with the company of Clara. I know this is heartbreaking for you as well and I am sorry.

Breaking A Leg

E-man is about to break out of his comfort zone, in a very BIG way.

You may remember my request for school age appropriate humour. The request came in an effort to help E-man prepare a routine for the end of the year school talent show. (you can revisit that post; "Is This Thing On?" )

I can not speak for all of us but I can tell you, that I myself, am absolutely amazed at his interest in putting himself on display. This is my young man who suffers from debilitating stress induced migraines. The boy who can chew a red ring around his lips in less than an hour in reaction to nerve wracking circumstances. He is the very last of my children that I would have pegged the family Thespian. Yet here we go...

He stated his desire, he asked for our support. We scripted a 'bit'; A Rick Mercer inspired comedy news skit. We made props, sourced wardrobe and solicited practice audiences. E-man has been practicing his heart out!

Auditions were held two weeks ago for the talent show. When I inquired about how the audition went, E responded "I think I nailed it!"

Nail it he did...he secured a spot in the show and the real work got underway. More practice, more rehearsals, more pretend performances, He has mastered the timing and the choreography of the 'Bit'...He is ready! The show is Thursday, I've booked time off work to see it unfold, Lula has her video camera charged and  ready to capture E-man's stage debut.

I am still trying to figure out how a child who can't call his Grandpa on the phone has found the nerves and ambition to perform in front of an audience of a couple hundred peers and teachers. I understand that certain performers like Tom Hanks, Lucille Ball and Jim Carey where once upon a time, incredibly shy people. What I can't figure out is what possessed them say "Hey, I'd like to perform for people!"

Regardless of whether or not I can bend my head around it, I am incredibly grateful that he is feeling confident enough to take the risk. So many of us carry that nagging conversation around in our hearts..."If only I had....(insert that thing here). 

I think I just learned one of life's biggest lessons from my super shy, nervous wreck of a boy who has committed himself to breaking a leg (and hopefully a life time cycle of apprehension)

Stay tunes for the video after Thursday's Big Show!

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!

Remember When...

...Life was this easy?

Wishing everyone a weekend where the living is easy.

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!

Holocaust - A Spoken Word Poem

This Poem was written by my 13 year old KJ. Some days I'm not sure what I will be grateful for in my post...then there are days like today.

I should ask to check homework more frequently. KJ will not be happy that I've used her Poem and posted it here for everyone to read, she's a very private person that way but sometimes as a Mom...well you just do things because then seem right.

Holocaust

Imagine you were born in 1920
Your family is Jewish
and you live in Germany

In 1933, a few months after you turn 13
Hitler and his Nazi Party gain power

But you're not worried - not yet

They make promises of wealth
and "economic recovery"
so you're not worried - not yet

You can't go to the movies,
Your Dad lost his job
You're getting worried

By your 15th birthday
most of your relatives are dead

Imagine you were born in 1920
Your family is Jewish
and you live in Germany

In 1935, a few months after you turn 16,
They've found you
They've found you hiding

Your family has warned you about this day
the day you will be taken away

Sent to a camp
A camp without tents, or fires, or s'mores
this camp
is a concentration camp

Imagine you were born in the year 1920
Your family is Jewish
You live in Germany

You have a job now
but you're not getting paid

Your job
is to shave people's heads

Friends, family, strangers come around
you shave their heads
not to speak one word

No one knows whats going on
that once they enter through that door
they won't come out alive

No one knows when their life will end
You could be killed today, tomorrow
or next week

You might die from starvation
This is not a pleasant situation



Not often does homework bring me to tears...today was an exception

Chalk One Up for the Big People

I've spent the greater part of 16 years engaged with children. My own children of course but also a string of infants, toddlers and school age wonders who spent time with us during those 'stay at home mom' years. I can hardly remember how many there have been, I lost count somewhere around 35. I do know there have been hundreds of boo-boos kissed along with dozens and dozens of musical ditties composed on situation command. I calculated at one point, that I have changed close to 14,000 diapers without a single bout of E.Coli infection.

It's been a good run.

Even if your entire world revolves around a single child there are things you learn as a parent, caretaker or guardian.

The first thing you learn is that the word "gross" is a verb. Secondly you learn that you cannot master your gag reflex. Evolutionary generations of children have perfected bodily ooze yet to be revealed.

Thirdly you learn that children are the human equivalent of that jelly crystal stuff they fill diapers with, which absorbs 90 times its weight in fluid. Essentially children are sponges that will soak in whatever they are exposed to.

Number 4...Children hear EVERYTHING. If you question this because the 8000 words of instruction you've wasted today have been ignored, try one 4 letter explicative. They will soak that in and spit it out right in the middle of your next parent teacher interview.

Lesson 5: Time-out is for grown-ups. All the parenting books will tell you that time-out is an effective behaviour modifying strategy. Anyone who has ever read a parenting book knows that they are written with language and phrasing meant to empower and instill confidence in the bruised parental ego. (parents only pick up those books in desperation. When things are good we have all the answers and could write our own books)

The one and only time that time-out has had an impactful affect on a child in our home was recently, when Darthvader was banished to "time-out." It was a moment of pure parenting genius on Michael's part. After hours of my attempting to correct an undesired behaviour in our 4 year old nephew, Michael picked up the object of young "Tippytoes" affection, a palm sweat covered Darthvader Lego-man, and put him in time-out.

Tippytoes WAILED! "Uncle Mike... poor 'Vader...(sob, sob)...why is 'Vader in time-out?"
Uncle Mike quietly said "'Vader is encouraging you to make bad choices so he needs a time-out."

Tippytoes, devastated that his behaviour landed his pal in jail did a complete 360.

The sixth thing you learn is that there are very few moments when the caregivers triumph over the little people.

Number 7...when it happens, it's magic.

Gratitude today for a single event of parental supremacy displayed in a moment of desperation by my husband...you have restored my faith in the power of the 'big people


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


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