That Would be a Waste Because....

On one of our rare warm days, Mackenzie complained, "I'm sweating." She had a "solution" as well. "I'm going to pour my (lunch) milk over my head when I get home." I started to explain that it would be a big waste because cows had to make that milk and the farmer had to gather it. Taylor surprised me by continuing the milk process chain, "the farmer collects the milk with tubes, puts it in big cans, takes it to the factory where it the milk is treat it it so there are no germs in it to make you sick. Then it is put in containers and taken to the grocery store. So it would be a waste if you dumped it on your head." - It's nice when I don't have to do all the lecturing. Now, will Kenzie listen to her sister any better than me? Well, she didn't have any come back argument nor did she pour any milk over her head. Likely spoiled her fun. - And I did tell them that some people drink raw milk without pasteurization.

"You're Freaking Me Out"

The time came when we figured it was time to tell the girls that their fratenal grandma was ill (from cancer), was having surgery the following Friday (two surgeons, all day, on Friday the 13th) and likely wouldn't survive the surgery (with her heart problems, low immunity, collitis, etc.). Plus it was believed to be secondary cancer. Taylor took it in stride, "so she might die? But we hope she won't. What do you mean she has cancer in her belly? Where else is it?" Mackenzie on the other hand replied in typical 6 year old form, "but who will take me to see the Newfoundland dog?" Then she got quiet and covered her ears, "Stop talking about it, you're freaking me out. I don't want to hear it." I know when she's ready she will ask questions. Minutes later she came to me and said "we don't want people in our family to drop off. We'd miss them because we love them." Mackenzie is familiar with death. She has had her fourth fish die this week. They're class fish died a couple of weeks ago (it was hers as well). Her teacher's dog died a couple of months ago. And her classmate's mother died two months ago. She knows about death, just not this close to home. We hope and pray that she gets a chance to spend a week alone with her gandmother, without her family, as Taylor did when she was six years old. A good woman like her should be around for a lot more years; someone who cares for others and loves her family more than anything in the world.

How Tall Am I?

During Kenzie's swimming lessons, Taylor said they were learning how tall they were at school today. She said I'm 136 feet tall. No it's not feet. I'm 136 kilometers tall. Um, no that's not it either. So I (Daddy) told her it was likely centimeters and she agreed. - Taylor's measurement units are obviously a product of her parents; feet and kilometers. Isn't she a product of the metric system in centimeters, kilograms, and kilometers? yet she speaks in feet, inches, pounds, and kilometers. Influences...go figure.

You Have The Voice

Last week, shile driving he girls and I to my work, Mackenzie spoke up and said, "Mommy, you have a really good voice.And a good talking voice. You should be on the radio." I had to ask what she meant by that. You have a good singing voice, you should have a cd because you have a good voice, you have a good voice for everything. blush, blush. "Thank you, Kenzie."

There was a bit of a pause as I basked in the warmth of this complicment and Mackenzie continued to ponder.

"Mommy, I think you should be on Canada's Worst Drivers." There goes that bubble. "I know you would be the first one to get your liscence back and you know stuff that people on the road don't know how to do. And then you'd be a really good driver." ah, that's better.

Taylor added her thoughts to this train of thought: "You would learn stuff on Canada's Worst Driver because they learn stuff that other people don't have to learn." She has a point. But I don't not want to be on tv. "You aren't as bad as the people on the show. They're scary to have on the road driving. And you're a good driver."

Ah, this is the stuff of conversations I need to remember; hense the recording of it here. I wonder if these musings would be worthy of a book someday.

What's More Important?

I was dropping the girls off at school last week, right on time, no room for dilly dallying. Taylor leaned forward from the back seat as she usually does, for a see-you-later kiss. Mackenzie was not impressed for she couldn't access her backpack that was in the front seat. "Mommy," she began, "What's more important, school or a kiss?" I of course replied with, "a kiss of course, because it shows someone that you love them." She didn't agree. "You can get a kiss later." "But, what if something happens to me or you and I don't get to see you later?" "Mommy, school is more important." Well, I'm glad I instilled the importance of school yet sad that she hasn't learned to value a good goodbye. Well, at least when she's the one leaving. When I'm leaving, it's another story.

Gone in the blink of an eye

Mackenzie came home the other day with tragic news. I wondered if
she got the message correctly and if so, was there anything we could do?
Mackenzie said that a classmate and friend's mother was killed in a car accident near the end of the spring break. Conversing with her teacher revealed it to be all too true. What horror for the boys, the dad. We just saw them last
week at the pool playing volleyball together. The car accident that ended her life made it to the news and the local papers. Before I knew it to be someone I have met, someone I kinda know, I saw the pictures and shuddered. I can't imagine. I don't know why such tragedies seem worse when I have some connection to the people
involved. I suppose people would never have a chance to recover and move on if we mourned all of life's tragedies. Shocking just how fragile life is, and how life can change dramatically in a second.

Mackenzie didn't want to talk about it beyond telling her sister why Gabe wasn't in school for the week (and she misses him) and that they had made cards for him. Taylor wanted to explore what it would all mean to the family and what such a loss might mean to other families. Mackenzie asked us to stop talking about it. I wonder how she and her classmates are taking it.
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There is an education fund set up for the boys thru the funeral home,
J.Snow Funeral Home on Lacewood.

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Sometimes I wonder, and worry a tad, at what my children come up with. On our drive to school, Mackenzie raised her voice and asked, "Mommy, can I have our house when you and Daddy are dead?" I had to ask why. "I don't know. I like it." But what about your other sisters? Maybe you can by their part of the house from them. But sure, you can have the house, if you still want it. I suppose having a consistant home helps one to feel grounded. Yet the girls have weigh the advantages from time to time of living closer to their school and friends. Hey, why was she more concerned with getting the house than our dying? Maybe having our cat and several fish die has made it understood to her that death is unavoidable. Perhaps death isn't real to her yet. Where do these questions come from, eh? :)

Me, Myself, and I

Last week when the girls and I were at home, storm-stayed on the girls' first no-school-due-to- snow day; they were getting restless beyond my patience. Not atypical. I had the brilliant idea to get them started making their Valentine's. I was fortunate to have the items on hand already. I set them to work with foam heats, ribbon, and stickers of various sizes, colours and sparkle. Taylor sat down with her classroom photo to remember all the names. Mackenzie handed me paper and pen to write down the names as she remembered them; boys column and girls column. She knew there are 20 in her class. She was ble to get all the names up to 19 by picturing the classroom and who sat where, as well as by following my suggestion of going through the alphabet. But no way could she remember the last missing person. They worked all afternoon, surprisingly, and made all 20 Valentine's in one sitting. Once they were nearing the end Kenzie piped up, "Mommy, I know who I forgot. Me!" lol Figures.

Selective Vegetarian

Mackenzie hasn't been eating much lately. She used to be the one who ate everything but now she's quite choosy. I think she subsists mainly on chocolate milk; her comfort food. The other day she didn't like what was on the menu. Taylor asked her why she didn't want to eat pork or whatever meat was on the table, "it's good. You used to eat it." Mackenzie answered with," I know but I don't like to eat animals any more." "But you like chicken nuggets, that's meat." "I know but that's different." Hmmm. How so? Oh, the logic (?) of children.