Little Expert

Last weekend, Mackenzie had her three years old, almost four, cousin over for a sleep over. Being the youngest in our family she will still make baby whimpers for attention and asks people to turn the bathroom light on for her. Well, her more matronly instincts come out around Malachi. Her other cousin, Jake, same age, brings out other instincts which I shall not mention. Mackenzie began taking care of her guest by buckling Malachi into her car seat for the drive to our house. She unbuckled him when we arrived home and then took him by the hand to lead him in. Once inside, she helped him take off his coat and put it where the kids' coats go and she took off his shoes and put them on the shoe mat. Now why doesn't she do that for her own clothing? Yeah, I know, because she can get away with it. She also explained that "Malachi is our guest so he gets to pick what we do." However, I'm not certain that is what was carried out. When he needed the washroom later, she was quick to run to him and ask if he needed the light turned on, pulled over a stool, and turned on the light. I've been had! The next day when it was time to get in the car again, she buckled him up, again. On the car ride, she began to not only care for her cousin but to watch my driving. Little show off. "Mommy, this way," she indicated with her hands, "now this way. That's it! Now go straight. Keep going. Keep going. Be careful. Now stop. (This when the stop sign appeared.) Mommy? Remember when I teached you to drive?" "No. When was that?" I figured this answer was going to be good. "Oh, a long time ago. I teached you so you'll be careful and not crash into another car." Right.... I guess I don't have to worry about her self-esteem. Now how do I teach her that I, as parent, don't always have to say please when asking her to do something, especially when she is misbehaving. Maybe I should ask Mackenzie since she seems to have all the answers. :)

Not Taylor's Fault

Taylor has now completed a year and a half of formal education. It used to be a real struggle to make it to school, and not be too, too late. For the last month we've been able to arrive at the first bell, most of the time. Well, on Thursday past, Mommy was tired from her standing in line at 5:30am to get Mackenzie into French Immersion next year, and Mackenzie was being a four-year old Mackenzie and easily side-tracked, putting on lipstick, changing her skirt three times, and so forth. Taylor got right to business. She packed her lunch into her back pack and got it to the front door, brushed her teeth and put toothpaste on Mommy and Kenzie's tooth brushes, then she got dressed in her snow pants, coat, hat, mitts, etc, before making a pile for Mommy and a pile for Mackenzie. Mommy's coat and shoes and Mackenzie's coat and shoes. Taylor had all this accomplished and was patiently waiting by the door for Kenzie and I to brush our teeth and get ready. No thanks to Mackenzie and I, Taylor arrived after the second that day, but before "Oh Canada" was played. Taylor told us later that someone was sent from Safe Arrival to her classroom to make certain she had made it to class. Hopefully, once Mackenzie starts school, they'll both be as efficient at getting ready in the morning.

Spring Has Sprung

Mackenzie and I were on our drive home from church, enjoying the sounds and sensations of spring. The windows were down for the first time since fall. Taylor was home recovering from strep throat so there was no fighting in the back seat. It was peaceful. Suddenly, Mackenzie pipes up, "Mommy! I just heard a bird singing a love song!" So I tuned in and sure enough, I could hear the birds singing in conjunction with the hum of my winter tires. "I heard another bird!" Mackenzie fell into quiet observation for five minutes and then calmly noted, "I like the breeze. It's re-laxin'." Yes, spring is finally on it's way to Nova Scotia. Mind you two days later there were school closures and our world was again covered in snow. But spring is on it's way. I imagine that mom from the playground on Sunday is wishing she didn't get her tires changed just yet.

Not a Self-Conscious Bone In Her Body

When I arrived at Grammie and Grampy's yesterday to pick the girls up after work, Kenzie was eager for me to come and watch her perform. The girls' true personalities stood out for me more at that time than any other. Taylor sat on the sidelines operating the music, a wind-up, Fisher Price, record player and made the occasional appearance "on stage" to assist her sister. Mackenzie danced, twirled (great twirls), posed, and was spun (standing and carried) by her sister to the music of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." She was very focused and serious about her performance. When asked how she got her twirls that good, she replied, "I've been practicing all day." All day wasn't when I had her with me until 1pm. Mackenzie sat back at one point and announced, "Okay, Taylor, your turn." Taylor looked up shyly from her seat next to the Fisher Price record player. I filled in for her, "I think maybe Taylor prefers to help out." Taylor quickly agreed and Mackenzie, equally quickly, took to the center stage again. Of course, there was more of this performance immediately after Mackenzie finished her supper. And when Grampy didn't arrive right away she went and dragged him into the living room. Ah, where is a camera or camcorder when you need one?

Mommy's Nurse Maid

Mommy was the one sick this time. Fortunately no one else seems to have caught the bug that began with a really sore throat - reminded me of strep because I didn't want to swallow - followed by chills and sweats, congestion that led to a cough as the throat was trying to heal on antibiotics, and then a lack of balance or dizziness as my ears filled up, as well as overall fatigue. Well, after ignoring my little voice for 24 hours, I gave in and visited the walk-in clinic on Monday. Skipping the gym for the usual workout and risking low points for the March Nutrition month competition at work, I went home, put a movie on for Mackenzie and crawled in bed. Well Mackenzie, then took care of Mommy. She brought me two extra pillows and tucked them under my head, brought me a drink of water, took my temperature (only 38.7), gave me a teddy bear to cuddle, made me gargle my throat medicine, pulled up the covers, and gave me a kiss. Two hours later she asked me to come downstairs because she wanted to play. How could I refuse after that great nap and quality care?

"Freckles" by Natasha Bedingfield

I used to care so much about what others think about
Almost didn't have a thought of my own
The slightest remark would make me embark
On the journey of self doubt
But that was a while ago
This girl has got stronger
If I knew then what I know now
I would have told myself don't worry any longer it's OK

[Chorus:]
'cause a face without freckles is like a sky without stars
Why waste a second not loving who you are
Those little imperfections make you beautiful, lovable, valuable,
They show your personality inside your heart
Reflecting who you are

Who you are
Who you are
Who you are

I wondered if I could trade my body with somebody else in magazines
Would the whole world fall at my feet?
I felt unworthy and would blame my failures on the ugliness I could see
When the mirror looked at me
Sometimes I feel like the little girl who doesn't belong in her own world
But I'm getting better
And I'm reminding myself

[Chorus]

Reflecting who you are
Reflecting who you are
Hmmm
Whoooooo whoa hmmmm oooooo

[Chorus]

It Makes Me Sad

This year, the empty lot at the entrance of our subdivision was cleared of brush, a driveway entrance put in, and a Christmas tree lot was put up. A trailer with a wood stove moved in, lights were put up, and trees erected. I seldom saw cars there buying Christmas trees. Well Christmas came and went and not even the first of two truck loads of trees sold. The trailer and the "Mieser's Trees" sign disappeared but the trees, tire and tire rim stands, and railing remained. And they remained. Today, two men were there with a wood chipper clearing away the dead trees. It is now 16 March, almost three months after the Christmas tree season ended. I felt it was depressing driving past the lot at least once a day. Even Taylor spoke up last week as we drove by, "it makes me feel sad to see those trees." I wonder if the tree sellers managed to break even. I wonder if they had a part in the clean up or if someone complained enough to their councillor. I did see someone on Friday taking photos of the abandoned lot. I wasn't looking forward to watching the trees turn brown and dropping their needles as the weather warms up; leaving tree skeletons behind. Now it will be less saddening to drive by. I hate to see trees that slowly grew, and were trimmed and cultivated for years, but cut down only to die. I love a real tree in my home but allergies make it necessary to use an artificial tree. And that contributes to the loss of sales for Christmas tree growers and to the increase in needless deaths of living trees that help cleanse our continually polluted air. I imagine Taylor's comment only reflects a small portion of my thoughts that sadden me when I see unappreciated, dead Christmas trees.

Doodlebops Concert

We've been waiting for four years for the Doodlebops to come further east than Ontario so that we could attend a concert. They finally came to Halifax this winter. Warren was able to get advance tickets and we had seats at center isle, row B. Taylor, who's 6 years old, after the concert reported that it was "great! I've never seen the Doodlebops that close before. They look different then how they draw them on television. Rooney's neck is skinnier." She also said that she enjoyed the Doodlebop dancers. She said they had some great moves. But I don't know why we couldn't have seen more of the Doodlebops in the 1.5 hour concert with at 15 minutes intermission (to sell more stuff I suppose). Small children and Kenzie would ask the same questions when the dancers came on, "where are the Doodlebops?" I know that when they came on stage, I was disappointed. We paid $138 for four seats and the group was up of imitators. The Doodlebops weren't THE Doodlebops. It was also typical concert with overpriced condiments that we weren't allowed to take into the auditorium: Chocolate bar for $2, chips for $1.75, and juice for $2; all small sizes. They also had the expensive souvenirs; none under $5. The t-shirts, Rooney toy guitar, and 12 inch Doodlebop dolls were all $20; the light necklaces were $10 and the coloring books were $5. Not surprising. I also heard children besides mine voicing their expectations based on the CBC Get Set For Life Tour; where were the toys to use while you were waiting? But this wasn't being put on by CBC. The Doodlebops are just shown on CBC. But I'll try to keep my thoughts to myself and let the kids enjoy the show from their own perspective; a less cynical one. At least they are old enough to remember this concert, the way I remember going to see Mr. Dress-Up when I was a kid.

Mother's Helper

I'm not certain if it's an older child learned behaviour or a genetically programmed behaviour. Taylor has always been a lot like me personality wise. For example, she likes order. She used to arrange the bubblegum packs in the check out lines; sorting pink with pink and purple with purple. She also has an interest in arranging her room and craft drawers. Mackenzie has no interest in it at all. Taylor is also far better at putting her clothes away; boots on the mat, coat in the coat basket, dirty clothes in the laundry. Better, not perfect. Mackenzie is always coming up with excuses not to: I'm too tired, I can't, you do it, I don't want to... Well, after 1.5 years of Taylor going to school she is used to routine and what needs done to get the three of us out the door in the morning by 8am. At six years old she will usually make her bed (allowance by points helps this) and get dressed in the morning. It takes prompts to get her to brush her hair but she'll show up with a brush and ponytail elastic without being asked. When breakfast is over she disappears only to reappear with all three toothbrushes in hand, with toothpaste on them. And there's two different kinds of toothpaste; the kids' toothpaste and my toothpaste. She is also quite adept at getting her backpack and then dressing without reminders to get snow pants, mitts, hat, scarf, etc. Taylor has also attempted to help Mackenzie along by picking out her coat, hat, and mitts but Mackenzie, being Mackenzie, doesn't want help nor what anyone else has picked out for her. Taylor has also now reached the point where she asks for my car keys so she can go start the car. Of course she is environmentally aware so she doesn't start the car until Mackenzie and I emerge from the house; she doesn't want to waste gas and pollute the earth and drown polar bears but that's another story. Taylor's behaviour could be learned for she is my little helper being the elder child and she likes to please. Her behaviour could also be a result of being motivated to get to school on time. I can't help but wonder what some time at school will do for Mackenzie. We'll find out next year. In the meantime, Taylor is a great help to getting us out the door without the tears and frustrations that once were the norm.

Stubborn by Birth and by Genetics

Mackenzie is a constant challenge to my patience. Last week I was trying to hurry her to get ready to pick up her sister at school and snapped at her when I had to ask her for a third time to hurry up. She crossed her arms, firmly planted her feet, looked me in the eye and said, "Mommy, you didn't say please!" Oh, boy. How do I teach her that there are times when a parent doesn't have to say, "please"? Then Sunday, the girls and I are finally not running late for church and calmly walking across the parking lot watching the gulls circle overhead. Mackenzie stops and announces she sees a baby one while Taylor and I plod on. Next, Mackenzie is screaming at us that we have to wait for her and to come back. It's a struggle of wits as I tell her we are walking slowly, she'll catch up, we won't leave her alone, and so on but she continues to tell us to come back. Finally I tell her I'm not going back and she can catch up if she wants to but we're going. She actually does cave and runs up only to hit me in her usual mad fashion and continues to rave. We manage to get inside and I tell the calm Taylor to get ready and go join Grammie and Grampy. Fortunate that they are usually there so I can remove Taylor from this confrontation. For fifteen minutes, I try to figure out what to do while Mackenzie rips a strip off of me. I try to time out on a nearby chair but it causes more ruckus in the attempt. I try to think of a room to use that wouldn't be a reward and is available. I can't think of one. I finally say I'll have to take her home if she doesn't start behaving. She then says she wants to go home so that threat doesn't hold any weight and I'd have to leave Taylor behind. It would also be difficult but not impossible to get a message to her to come back out or to go with Grammie and Grampy (hopefully they have room in their car or it will be a return trip for me). I also don't want to support they staying home on Sunday mornings that Daddy would so be supportive of. Somewhere in Mackenzie's tantrum she tells me, "Mommy you look silly. I want you to wear dresses." I have no idea where that came from. I know Mackenzie likes to wear dresses and skirts herself but why me? An elder comes over, someone I know well, and starts talking with Mackenzie. He tells her that next time Mommy won't walk ahead without her and it wasn't nice of Mommy to leave her behind. I don't approve of his supporting Mackenzie's side but she calms down and finally she will take off her coat and boots so we can go into the service. I'm disappointed that I missed going up front to put my change into the wooden church money bank for it being my birthday this month. This is my time and I actually remembered to bring change. Mackenzie and I excuse ourselves past two friends to get into the pew next to Grammie and Grampy. We muddle through a song and it's children's time already. Mackenzie goes up for it but is now feeling insecure after our fight and returns to me rather than going up to Sunday School. A few minutes later she wants me to take her to her class and to stay so I miss the entire sermon and arrive back in church for the final prayer. What a day. What a kid. And it's this way with her every day, some days more than others.

Rejection

Things are happening to girls too commonly at an earlier and earlier age. To my six year old Taylor, sleepovers are an event of fun and acceptance. I didn't have my first friend sleep over until I was turning ten. This past weekend I told her she could have someone over Saturday night. Taylor phoned Sarah Friday afternoon and learned that she was going to Grace's birthday party and couldn't come over. Saturday morning before I left for work, Taylor began phoning again. At lunch time she phoned me at work to say Rebbecca was going to Grace's sleepover party and couldn't come. Could she phone Julianna? In my mind I thought, "ouch, rejection, being left out." When I arrived home, she told me that Julianna was going to Grace's sleepover party. Oh dear. She then phoned Parker and no, Parker wasn't allowed to sleep over. Not surprising as she's never been over nor Taylor to Parker's house. This was beginning to remind me of when my then eleven year old step daughter was living with us, phoning friend after friend trying to reach someone available to be with. Taylor then phoned her cousin with whom schedules often don't allow us to spend time together. I had thought their church was no longer being held Saturday night due to relocation and he'd finally be available. Turned out, not yet. Taylor was put out but not as badly as I anticipated. I suppose taking the girls swimming after supper helped. I wonder if Taylor took it personally or understands that it is difficult to find time available when your friend/s are also available. I'll have to ask her later.

Little Motivator

Another day began and the three of us were on our way to drop Taylor off at school. Mackenzie and I were heading for the gym and daycare again. Hey, we were out of the house and nearby anyway... Mackenzie was telling her sister about the "fun" we had the day before packing up Christmas decorations. She took items from me as I had undecorated the plant shelf and handed me boxes for the attic or from the attic for the next batch of decorations. The fun part was that she got to play with the plush Santa again. I started complaining that I wanted to stay home today and be lazy. I had hoped with the forecast of freezing weather would create a storm day (they closed school at 11:30am, prematurely in my opinion). Mackenzie added her two cents: "Mommy, grownups need exercise to stay healthy and to get strong." Oh... I thought, I guess she has been listening to my ramblings. But at least she hasn't learned to focus on weight, just yet. Way to go my little motivator!

I Don't Want It!

This is the first year that Christmas actually meant something to my three year old; Santa who gives presents and presents. Unfortunately this present fixation is fed by the fact that her birthday is the week after Christmas. Yahoo. Also, being young, she wants some unusual gifts, like a rainbow mommy goose. Mrs. Claus had to do some sewing for that; $2.00 and 6 hours later she had one and a favorite, so far, of Mackenzie's. She also asked for purple bubblegum which I have yet to find. And a crawling My Lil'Pony that she put in her toy box Christmas night, not in her bed with the Webkinz. And I swear she asked for a Baby Alive. I rushed out to get one in October when they were on sale from $59 to $48 and tucked it away. In late November I discovered that they were now selling for $30. What?! and Ouch! Of course there's a no returns after 20 days policy. I could likely get around that after Christmas. Anyhow, Christmas morning arrives. Taylor wakes at 7:11am and crawls in with Daddy and I. She ignored the presents under her tree in her room and she patiently waits for Mackenzie to get up at 7:40am. Mackenzie then goes through her gifts like the Tasmanian Devil; dumping out her stocking in the middle of Taylor's bedroom floor while Taylor goes through her bedroom gifts, then ripping open anything with an "M" on it under the tree. From time to time she'd stop and spin around asking, "where's another present for me? There's no more presents for me?" Well, she excitedly gave her goose a hug and a kiss saying, "Me love it! It's so soft!" And she excitedly said that the crawling pony was, "just what me wanted" before tossing it aside and moving on. Well, she tore open her Baby Alive doll, just had the front paper torn off, took a peek at what it was and tossed it down in disgust as only Mackenzie can express it, "I don't want that! I don't like babies!" Well the poor doll sat to the side of the living room, in the box until boxing day. I had been thinking I might get my $15 back after all and take the doll to the store, it was a Christmas present and yes I have the receipt. As I folded the clothes in the bedroom wondering when returns were permitted, Taylor came in and asked if she could have the doll. I suggested we could take it to the store and get the crawling pony she wanted and didn't receive and still have money left over. Taylor paused considering her options, "no, I want the doll. I'll take good care of it." Well I thought this could be dangerously interesting. So we unpacked the doll undoing all the twist ties and tape and so on. Taylor then set about feeding the doll that came with only two diapers and two packages of food. Mackenzie surprisingly only wanted to have a turn feeding the doll and then moved on. Taylor on the other hand has been quite attentive to her doll and will talk to it as it talks to her and rushes around trying to attend it's every request. I had to tell her that she could put it down and it would go to sleep and give her a break. Taylor will have to give her a name after all, all her new Webkinz received names. Daddy asked what we should get to replace Mackenzie's present. I told him not to worry about it. She should learn to take what she gets and has too much anyway, plus there's more gifts in her future with a birthday around the corner.

Goodbye to a Good Friend

During Thanksgiving weekend 1991, my sister Andrea gave me an early Christmas present, a black, 8 month old kitten with white down his nose and white on his paws. The summer before we had put our 13 year old cat to sleep after he got into antifreeze and his kidneys shut down and my 7 month old grey tiger-striped kitty had disappeared. My sister had rescued yet another cat as this one had been dumped in a ditch. This new feline acquired the name "Ajax" from a Shakespearean play I was reading for English literature at the time. Perhaps ironically, Ajax wasn't the black character in the play "Othello". Ajax came to live with me in my first ever apartment and got to know my friends, roommates, boyfriend, and pet fish at that time. Three years later he travelled from Marc's apartment to our old apartment when I moved without him into a no cats apartment. He somehow survived travelling the main street of Wolfville during this search. His collar tag helped someone nearby to get in touch with me. After exploring my new apartment he was okay with residing elsewhere. Ajax stayed with me while I graduated three times from university (I went back and got my honors when I didn't get into the Bachelor of Education program right away).

Ajax and I moved back home to mum and dad's when I graduated for the last time in 1994. He was with me through the break up of my boyfriend of five years. He also gave me comfort as I struggled to get a teaching job and substitute taught for seven years. Three years later, in late 1997, he moved with me into an apartment in a 100 year old home. He gave me love and companionship as I lived for the first time, alone and single, for three years. He would greet me at the door no matter the hour, he would snuggle with me and keep me warm at night, and he comforted me when I was sick or feeling very much alone. In 2000, he moved in with mum and dad again while I stayed in a cat-free apartment before getting married in 2001. He lived with me again after I married. We lived at that location for just over a year before moving again into my first home (that I choose) and a week before the birth of my first child, Taylor. Ajax kept me company through all those late night nursings and frustrations of a new mother with an infant that isn't nursing well. He was also with me while my step-daughter lived with us for 11 months in 2003. Ajax lived with us in Lucasville through Taylor's birth and growth until I was pregnant with my second child, Mackenzie.

I am allergic to cats. A discovery I learned after I already had Ajax for awhile. I was advised to give him away as I was highly allergic to cats and that he could still live for quite a while. Warren is also asthmatic. To top things off, I wasn't to be near kitty litter while I was pregnant and Warren - mister anti-cats - wasn't going through another nine months of kitty litter duty. I tried to find Ajax a new home and in the end mum and dad adopted him. Three years later or during this past year he developed hyper-thyroid and lost his hearing. He went down hill health wise rapidly. Apparently Dad wasn't ready to let him go and Mum continued to pay for his medicine at $80 a month until this past week. Ajax stopped eating last weekend and had a visible growth on his leg that he kept chewing at. Monday 22 December 2008 at 4:40pm, I took the girls with me to meet mum at the vet. We all went in the exam room to pet him and say, "goodbye." Then mum stayed with him for the needle and we returned shortly afterwards to say, "goodbye" again. I fell apart when I wasn't expecting to but Ajax had been my comfort and friend for years. I also won't be getting another cat to ease the transition. Mackenzie said it was scary but now she won't be asking constantly where is Ajax as she did when Maddy died past spring. Taylor said it was sad and had a lot of questions going to the vet and since then, mainly around how sad am I and how sad she is. I found comfort when Taylor reflected the words I had spoken to her earlier as I tried to explain why we were putting Ajax to sleep or killing him, letting him die, "his medicine wasn't helping any more, so he won't hurt any more." She also added her own thoughts, "and now he's in heaven with Jesus." I would also like to add that she also asked me why we don't do that for people, let them die when their medicine isn't working any more and they are in pain. Good question, don't you think?

Grammie, I need money

Mackenzie never has no likely ever will be known as subtle. While shopping yesterday for Angel tree gifts, Santa was spotting in his large chair, waving at girls and boys. Mackenzie started walking right up the red carpet until I stopped her and said we should ask Grammie if we could borrow some money because I didn't have any cash. Taylor hung back a bit not sure what to do. While I was telling her of our cash dilemma, Santa picked out two reindeer antler hats and candy canes and waved her forward. Taylor didn't hesitate then and went up to Santa, excited at his gifts. Mackenzie then returned with a twenty dollar bill, gave the money to me and went up to see Santa and what Taylor had. Santa put together the hats for the girls and was fitting them on when the photographer asked him to wait as we'd like to get a photo. I had been chatting with the photographer. The girls sat pleased as punch, for the first time ever, on Santa's knee. As there was no line up they had quite a chat as well. Taylor keeps reminding Mackenzie that she told Santa that she would be good until Christmas eve. Taylor also adds that she told Santa that she would try her best because we all make mistakes sometimes. - Grammie appeared later and explained that Mackenzie had found her in the Dollarstore, came right up and abruptly said, "Grammie, we need money." I don't think I've ever not been afraid of Santa, a stranger in a stranger beard. I also don't think I've ever been that bold asking for money. Who is Mackenzie related to anyway?

Serious Adult Conversation

I had to smile yesterday as I watched my two girls playing make believe. Mackenzie was seated on her wooden chair beside the coffee table, pretending to sip her tea from her toy china cup, "...and you'll be my sister forever" was the end statement I caught as I tuned in. Taylor was standing, the skirt of her dress pulled up to show her striped tights. She held her baby kitty stuffy to her breast as she looked at Mackenzie and continued in a serious tone, "does it hurt your nipples when you feed your baby milk?" Mackenzie replied in an equally serious tone, "yes, me do!" I have come to understand just how much children hear when you think they can't hear you from the other room. I also realise that, at least in this case, this isn't a bad thing. From observing my sister and I my girls have learned a lot such as a) nursing one's own baby and some realistic expectations such as pain being involved yet still its still being a good thing for Mommy and baby and b) sisters are great to talk to about anything.

Babies

The pregnancy of my sister with her third child has raised a lot of questions, formulations, and memories (either real or unreal) from my eldest. While driving to the hospital tonight to visit our newest addition, Josiah, Taylor started talking to Mackenzie about being in my belly. She told Mackenzie that when she was in Mummy's belly that she talked to her. Taylor also asked Mackenzie if she remembered being in Mummy's belly and Taylor talking to her. Taylor said she told her, "hi, baby." Mackenzie piped up and added with her side of the story, "and I said hi. Hi, Taylor" in a babyish voice. - Later Taylor repeated to Andrea what I had explained to her, that babies can hear the voices of people around them when they are in their mummy's tummy and then they aren't scared when they come out of their mummy's tummy.

Another One?

For today's tale I will start with some background information: my sister is expecting her third child any day now. This pregnancy has found her in Nova Scotia and my girls and I have been able to observe Andrea's growing belly and with permission, even touch her belly. Sunday, Mackenzie was on the couch with Andrea quite interested in where the baby was in her belly and pushing her little hand into Andrea's belly along side of Andrea's (and sometimes my) hand. This morning, as kids do, out of the blue, Mackenzie announces with certainly, "Mommy you're going to have a baby. And you and Daddy will go to the hospital and come home with a baby. And it'll be so..... cute. And I will have a little brother or little sister. I can't wait." My heart ached for her as I too once wanted a little brother or sister and I once thought I would have three children of my own. I only told her, "I don't think Mommy will be having any more babies." I didn't tell her, of course, about finances of raising children, birth control methods, or possible complications related to my recently found abnormal cells (further tests will tell). She doesn't need to know those aspects of life just yet. I wonder how she will be with her new cousin when he or she arrives.

Finally, of Age

Every year I try to get formal photos taken to give the relatives an updated photo of the girls in their Christmas card. Every year it is a challenge to get them to both sit together and to look at the camera while not making an inappropriate facial gesture. This year, by golly, it worked. The girls were co-operative and smiled. Though I have no idea why Mackenzie wanted to pose with her duck toy rather than the deer Webkinz she drags around everywhere. He was in the car so it's not like she accidentally left him behind. Another thought, why is it that per pose, photos are cheaper to buy at Superstore than through the school, we have a half an hour for photos to be taken, we get to select from a variety of poses and suggest poses to be taken, and the pictures are ready the next day? I'm still waiting for Taylor's $16 school photos, one pose, one sheet of pictures.

Is It In the Genes?

When Taylor was little, just able to walk, she would find misplaced items in the store and insist on organizing them. She would put all the pink gum together if a stray one was in the green and so on. She also used to line things up at home: spoons in a line, rubber ducks in a line, broach pins in a line, and so on. Today she disappeared while I was warming supper and I naturally started to wonder what she was up to. Surprisingly she was cleaning and organizing her room. I had to give her a hug and tell her that was very responsible of her. Her clean clothes have been stacked by her dresser for days and were still waiting to be put away. However, her empty bunk bed, floor, and desk were cleared. She had this comment, "I still have a lot to do and it's a lot of work." - I used to spontaneously clean and organize my bedroom too. Odd, aren't we. No, don't answer that. :)

Mommy!

The clock radio went off waking me from a deep sleep and a bad dream. I wasn't happy to get up again. I needed more sleep; as usual. I sat up and began my "old person stretches" or I'd be walking on my toes. I had barely started when I heard Taylor begin screaming, "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" I was glad to be awake already rather than be woken up by her hollering yet again. She doesn't always wake up happy whether it is the fact that someone turned off her light before daylight, or her radio came on too loud or on a French station or some other offensive occurance. I went and checked on her. Peering into her room, I saw Taylor's red, tear-streaked face looking over the end of her upper loft bed. "Mommy," she sobbed, "I didn't get to cuddle with you." sniff. "I kept looking at the clock and it said five but it never said six." I had told her she could come in and snuggle with me after six am. Many mornings she is awake before her or my alarm clock radio and has a chance to come in and snuggle. This morning she never had the chance and for some unknown reason, it was an upsetting occurance. I told her that she'd have to snuggle with me another time, after school, in the evening reading a book (she always wants my arm around her as we read), or another morning. "Alright," she said as she resigned and recomposed herself.

Mommy, I Don't Want to Get Bigger

In this mornings breakfast rush to eat and get to school on time, Mackenzie sat in her sparkly purple dress at the dinning room table, starring at the television with her big blue eyes, and announced, "Mommy, I don't want to get bigger. I don't want to get married. I want to stay with you." ah.... I remember having a similar conversation with my mother when I was about four years old. Mom told me then that I would want to leave someday. What I told Mackenzie was more selfish, "But I need you to grow up and take care of me when I'm older and pee my pants." Taylor piped up and said, "You'll have to move in with us." I told her she could put me in an old people's home. :) One needs to cherish these little moments in the fast pace of life. They are far too few and often too soon forgotten.

Mommy, you should...

With the colder weather upon us, the girls and I have been driving into the fog every morning as we head out of our subdivision and into town. From one location on the road, it looks like my sister's subdivision is on an island surrounded by a mystical fog. Well, I guess my eldest daughter listens to me for she threw back my own words at me the other day. Mommy, do you have your lights on so you show up in the fog? The front and the back ones? It's nice to know she was listening as I explained how driving lights don't light up the back of the car, only the front. I'm now sure I'm keen on her getting after me about it but at least we'll be safer.

The same week, Taylor had more advice for me. She looked at me first thing in the morning and the first words out of her mouth were, "Mommy, you look tired. You should go to bed earlier." Ah, out of the mouth of babes.

Idiot Driver

We had changed our plans several times early this afternoon from going to Windsor Exhibition to Shubenacadie Wildlife Park to Victoria Park in Truro. We decided that Daddy's asthma acting up would make an exhibition a bad place to go. Enroute to Shubenacadie, Daddy asked if we'd like to go to Victoria Park. I guess we should have stuck to our original plan.

We had a great time at the park. Taylor climbed Jacob's ladder (all the way up and down) four times. The rest of us went up once and then just cheered Taylor on. We visited the falls and took some great shots along the way. Mackenzie, of course, had to stop and pet every dog that passed: "can I pet your dog?....what's it's name?" At the top of one steep set of steps the girls watched a teenager going down a steep hill after his fallen belt. His female friend told the girls that he was being bad going that way and to stick to the steps. Mackenzie came back down the steps going on and on about "that bad teenager..." We ended the day at the playground and then packed up to head for home around 5pm. Daddy's breathing was acting up and he had forgotten to bring his puffers. So we weren't going to stop at the Wildlife Park on the return trip but go straight home.

In the middle of town, we heard a horn and while looking around at what it was about, bang. Someone rear-ended us and then drove off. I guess we should have stuck with our original plans for the day. While on our way to the police station to file our report, Mackenzie was commenting on the accident and I heard her use the phrase, "that idiot driver." Now, I wonder where she's heard such a phrase before this day.

I Want More Milk

While having our usual bath together, Mackenzie started giving me a strange look then tried to latch on. I told her, "there's no more milk left." She told me, "I want more milk, chocolate milk. You can put chocolate milk in there." I had to ask her how since when I drink milk it goes into my tummy. "Like this," and she traced a line from my mouth to my neck to my nipple. She makes it seem so simple. I'm surprised that she remembers nursing. But then again, she was 27 months by the time I got her to stop.

Did You Have to Look Pretty?

I wasn't expecting these kinds of questions for a long, long, time. However, Monday morning, Taylor was going through her clothes and came apon a pink and orange dress. "Remember you said I looked pretty when I was in this dress, Mommy?" "Yes." A few minutes later, "Did you have to look pretty to find guy to love and marry?" Oh boy. How was I to answer that question? I told her that when her dad and I met that we were just friends and that I wore clothes that I was comfortable in, that I usually wear. But it is fun to dress up and look extra pretty for those you love and to feel extra pretty yourself. This time I didn't add it, but it's a phrase I try to use for my girls self-esteem in this looks fixated society, "you look pretty in whatever you wear, even when you're naked."

I Didn't Do It

Well, it was an enjoyable but exhausting weekend. I think it was our first camping trip this year with no rain - other than during the drive down. On our drive home the girls fell asleep and if it weren't for the fact that I was cold with the air conditioning on (to keep Warren alert), I would have been asleep to. Warren pulled into the driveway and then backed up with the back window blocked with camping gear. With my eyes closed I felt a slight bump, like when one puts the brakes on too quickly, and then we continued on, backing the newly, returned-to-our-use (no swing set on the back any more, after three years of storage) trailer into it's parking place. I opened my eyes to get out and start unloading and looked out my window at my car. "What did you do to my car?" I asked Warren, not knowing who had done the damage. In front of the passenger side door was a large, visible dent. This is not our year for cars. The thing is, no one will believe now that it wasn't me that put the dent there. Dents must be becoming common place for us for when I asked Taylor to look at what happened to my car, she walked bast the one foot dent three times before she noticed it.

Taylor Two-Wheels

Taylor began riding a two wheeler, with training wheels last summer. We have a busy street and don't use our bikes nearly as often as we'd like. Taylor did use her bike on a very long bike ride (6 km) on our first day at Keji in 2007 and a few tumbles on the uneven trail made her extra cautious. I feared it was one step forward and two steps back. This year we took her bike along more often: to Newfoundland, to Keji, to Shubie Campground, and to Jellystone. At Shubie, Warren realised that Taylor wasn't using her training wheels at all, in fact they may be getting in the way. He suggested taking them off but she wasn't up for it. Well, this past weekend, Taylor, now being six years and two days old, decided to go for it. She rode like she'd been riding a two-wheeler forever. She did have a tumble later when Daddy suggested she wiggle her handle bars back in forth. It was observed that she's likely not ready for anything fancy yet. Fortunately she did get back on her bike again in spite of her vow to walk the rest of our weekend camping trip. Daddy only complaint about Taylor doing so well is, "now we don't get to help teach her." He missed out on teaching his first child to ride a bike and now he didn't have to teach his second.

Sweet Dreams

The night before our very early morning ferry crossing, Mackenzie was having trouble getting to sleep. Daddy and I were in the washroom getting ready for bed ourselves and we could hear the girls bouncing around, especially Kenzie. In typical Daddy form, he whipped open the bathroom door and in his mean voice, hollered, "Get to sleep!" Well this scared and upset Mackenzie making it difficult still for her to get to sleep. Now instead of being full of giggles and bounces she was full of sobs and her unfortunate, common comment, "I don't like Daddy." Big sister Taylor went about doing her best to calm Mackenzie and sang to her with her sweet, quiet voice to calm her down, "Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep my..." In the end, Taylor, in my sister's usual fashion when she was the same age, fell asleep herself way before Mackenzie did. So when I reappeared into the room, Mackenzie climbed in with Daddy and myself, kissed me on the cheek, saying, "sweet dreams, you're sweet, don't let the bedbugs bite."

Yeah, Mommy

The day we had been waiting for had arrived. For two weeks I had been planning with my sister and mother for the eleven of us to go camping at Keji for five days. The longest spand of time I've spent in a tent with my own family. We were pumped. We had to wait for Taylor to finish school though at 10:30am Friday morning for her to pick up her report card. I figured mum and dad with no kids would arrive first and be able to pick out sites for the three families. Without working the night before and not having to wait for a child in school, I thought Andrea's family would also be ahead of us. Warren was working until 4pm but he intended to come down and join us Saturday as his eldest daughter was arriving by plane at 8:30pm Friday. I was dismayed that I had to get gas after picking Taylor up (late) and then return home to drop off her treat container (she had taken cupcakes for the class). Fortunately the girls were older and we didn't have to stop for a pee break. I did; however, miss the first exit and had to take a longer side route through Bridgewater before getting back on track. We were stopped at the first kiosk to get our people passes and then moved onto the campsite kiosk. I now had to use the washroom and had pulled over to the side by the kiosk for a pit stop before checking for messages on the bulletin board. I gave Taylor my cell phone and had her call Grammie who told us they were pulling in behind us. Soon afterwards, Andrea's crew arrived. They had driven in around the campsites and then came back to coincidentally join up with the rest of us. This was perfect timing in spite of delays and the weather was looking a lot better than had been fore casted. We found three sites in a row, paid our site fees, and were on our way. I was the first in the lead and had been given the site in the middle. Ever since pulling out of Mum and Dad's driveway in October I have been conscious about backing into parking spots when I can to make it safer pulling out of parking spots. Our car was packed to the roof and I couldn't see out the back window. I could only use my side mirrors and then the bikes' handle bars and wheels were blocking the view of trees in the angled driveway. I considered asking Taylor to hop out and direct me in but thought she might get in the way more than anything. I thought of waiting for the others to help me out but figured I was independent and could do this on my own. So slowly, barely tapping the gas to drive almost blindly, in reverse, uphill, and running on excitement, I backed in. There were trees on my right side and I wanted to leave room to walk by on the left. Watching the trees on my right I backed up a little bit, a little bit, a little bit more.... Then bump! Crack! Shatter! Warren's bike wheel had caught a tree (I wrecked his bike, bent frame etc.) and pushed the other bikes into the car. My bike's handle bars had pierced the bottom edge of the car's window and the safety glass had shattered. Needless to say, I was not impressed. This was the second of Warren's cars (he had the larger station wagon, suitable for camping) in less than six months. I haven't had a driving record like this in the 20 years I've held a driving licence. I phoned Warren right away and he wasn't happy either but seemed more bothered by the fact that it needed repaired in a week for us to drive to Newfoundland. Well...Warren found it was cheaper to buy an off-coloured door (we have a two-toned gray station wagon now) and install it himself than to replace the glass only. My brother-in-law helped me to clean up the glass shards and we had it all to the side in a tarp provided by mum by the time the clean up crew arrived. The clean up crew had been called in by a staff member driving by when I broke the window. The matter continued to haunt me and I was distraught by the fact that I had not the skills nor the financial means to fix my error myself but we carried on and went to the beach, hiking, canoeing, and more. Once, while returning from a walking spot we had to drive to, I backed into our site and Mackenzie, sitting behind me began to clap and cheer, "Yeah, Mommy. You didn't hit the tree!" I wasn't sure if I should laugh or be offended. I chose to laugh. Life's too short. To top things off, she did this a second time as well. Oh brother.

Too Flexible?

I don't know how she did it. This morning as Taylor and I were rushing about trying to get ready to leave the house on time and Mackenzie was still in bed, Taylor sneezed a great sneeze. A sneeze brought on by the colds all of us have. Well, somehow when she sneezed she brought her right knee up and her head down. Her mouth collided with her knee and blood was drawn. Taylor had managed to hit her lip hard enough with her knee that her lip pierced her upper lip and set it to bleeding. She wasn't impressed but I was. I wouldn't be able to get my knee anywhere near enough to my lip to do that kind of damage. Maybe there is such a thing as being too flexible.

Instructor's Demo Girl

As we arrived, late again, to Taylor and Mackenzie's swimming lessons, I was puzzled to be unable to spot Mackenzie's class in the little pool. Then I heard my name being called by the mother of one of Kenzie's classmates. They were over by the big pool, standing around the big slide. Mackenzie's instructor, Kayla, was standing in the cold, big pool ready to catch kids who were brave enough to go down the big slide for a fun event on their last day of lessons. Her helper was standing by the slide's steps to assist in climbing. I was both surprised and pleased that they were over here. One girl was in her mother's arms, clinging in apprehension of the task being asked of them. Owen, a little more brave, was holding onto his mother's leg but standing on his own. I walked to the edge of the pool and told the instructor that Mackenzie had just done this on the weekend and could go under, pop up, and swim to the side. Kayla asked Mackenzie if she wanted to go down the slide. Without hesitation and a big grin, Mackenzie went over to the slide, climbed up to the top of the big slide, slid down in a blur, plunged into the water of the pool, bobbed back up, put her head down into the water and swam to her instructor. You go girl! Mackenzie emerged from the pool with Kayla's help and came over to me, "Mommy, you proud of me?" "Yes. Give me a high five." Upon seeing Mackenzie go down the slide, Owen gained some confidence and removed himself from his mother, walked over to the slide, climbed up to the top, paused, then changed his mind in spite of coaxing, and climbed back down. Mackenzie beamed as her class changed activities and headed back to the usual little pool. This day Mackenzie received her report on it was written, " Mackenzie, you're an amazing swimmer, cutie! Thanks so much for being my demonstrator all session long! Good luck next time, hope you had as much fun as I did. Kayla."

I Want One Too

On a road trip with Daddy we visited the Bargin Giant. A store full of junk or wonder depending on your point of view. Both girls have attained a thick, fuzzy Caillou blanket at this store. Our last visit included Taylor emerging with yet another pet of the stuffed toy variety, a toy tabby cat with a pink bow. Mackenzie wanted pretty much everything and ended up failing to make a choice. Weeks later she sadly revealed that she wanted a kitty like Taylor's and wanted Daddy to get one. Taylor in her new technology wisdom suggested Mommy send Daddy a picture of her toy kitty so that he might be able to buy one for Mackenzie too. Taylor is often offering her advice to solve problems as they arise; except for how to leave the house on time for school.

New Hobby Through the Eyes of a Child

We've begun a new hobby this spring with a renewed interest in catching and looking at moths and butterflies and with the introduction of Painted-Lady butterfly caterpillars into Taylor's classroom. Our first identification challenge began with a moth Grammie handed to us in a jar commenting that it was the largest she'd seen and wondering if it was harmful to the environment. It was the twin-spotted Sphinx. Next we came across a pink and cream-coloured fuzzy looking moth perked on our door frame. It was the Rudy Maple Moth. My moth and identification book helped identify the first but not the second. Thanks Google. Taylor is full of questions about these critters. When do they come out (night or day), what do the eggs look like, what do they eat, how long do they live and so forth. I'm learning more than I ever took interest in learning before. Life through the eyes of child can be rather intriguing and even awe-inspiring.

Murder or Accident?

Mackenzie and Mommy were home one day, doing laundry and other things. Mommy left the second load of laundry in to soak while she hung out the first. When she returned, at first glance, something didn't look right in the washer. So before closing the lid and letting the cycle continue, she took a second look. "Mackenzie, come here!" Mommy had something to show Mackenzie, something they usually found outside under rotten logs and rocks. There on top of Mackenzie's fleece sheets was a red-backed salamander. Mommy went and got the camera for a photo would help to retell the story later. Photos done, Mackenzie and Mommy tried to get the salamander out of the wash tub. Mommy got a fish net and a small fish container and tried to coax the salamander into either one, closing in from front and back. The sly salamander dove under the water. Mommy was glad she hadn't added borax to her whites this time. After poking some clothes this way and that, Mommy decided to let the salamander climb out on its own like it did the last time and went to phone Daddy. Contemplating how the salamander got there, Mommy decided the salamander must have been in the fallen sheet that was fetched from the puddle in the backyard - the backyard and put back into the wash. Daddy suggested taking the laundry out one piece at a time. So... back to the laundry room an hour later and no sign of a salamander. Mommy picked up the empty laundry basket and started carefully pulling pieces of laundry out of the tub, one piece at a time, dripping water everywhere for she dare not wring out any laundry. Upon removal and inspection of each article of laundry, still no salamander, just a need for a mop and rubber boots to get around the laundry room. So Mommy started the washer draining, watching the water closely, and stopping it every few seconds. No sign of the salamander. Mommy then decided to recheck the wet laundry and put it back in one piece at a time, inspecting corners and all sides. No salamander. Sigh. Mackenzie and Mommy were getting worried. Where did it go? Where could it go? What could they do? Mommy started the washer up again, new water and new soap, no borax for her mud-stained sheet. It was soon time to rush off and get Taylor from school. When Taylor appeared at the car Mum told Taylor the story about the salamander in the wash and then realised something. Uh oh. Maybe the slim salamander went through the holes and into the filter. Thinking out loud brought chastisement from Taylor, "Mommy, you shouldn't have done that!" The salamander was likely drowned now. Something only scooping the water from the laundry tub would have helped. Arriving home, Mommy checked the washer filter and was more than dismayed at seeing the pale head of the missing salamander amongst the lint. And Taylor had wanted to keep it for a pet. What was the worse fate? Doing laundry will never be the same again; especially laundry that has fallen into the backyard mud hole.

Water Rat

On Saturday, 30 May 2008, Daddy decided that he wanted Mackenzie to go off the diving board before she's four. Taylor went off the diving board and rope at the pool when she was four. Well, with coaxing Mackenzie stood in line with her sister for the diving board while Mommy waited in the pool (Mommy was in the pool because Daddy can't tread water.) Mackenzie walked to the end of the board without hesitation and then backed up, came forward again, and backed up right off the board. She did; however, jump in behind Mommy from the side of the pool while Mommy was looking the other way watching Taylor. Mackenzie didn't go far from the edge and bobbed up in her usual fashion and soon climbed out to go back in the warm pool with Daddy. A little later, Mackenzie stood in line again for the diving board. Taylor stood behind her and Daddy was beside her. Mommy was still in the cold pool. Mackenzie again walked right to the end, but not as closely to the end. We coaxed and reassured her but she wasn't ready and backed up. The young teens in the line were quite patient waiting in line. Daddy reached out a hand to Mackenzie and she grabbed on expecting to be lifted off the board and clung on. Daddy shook her loose and Mackenzie landed in the pool next to Mommy. She wasn't upset at this landing in the pool but soon climbed out. Next Daddy encouraged Mackenzie to try the big slide. Mommy was trying to spot Taylor as kids under the age of 9 are to be "within arms reach of a responsible adult." Mommy noticed Kenzie on the top of the slide and dove under the line around the bottom of the slide. Soon after catching a smiling Mackenzie, a lifeguard informed Mommy that kids aren't allowed on the slide unless they can swim outside the ring by themselves. Mommy told the lifeguard that Mackenzie could if she wanted too. Mommy tried to find Taylor in the pool as Daddy called, "you better hurry." For Mackenzie was at the top of the slide again, determined to go down. Mommy was less than thrilled that she hadn't been redirected back to the warm pool. But, true to form, Mackenzie slid down the big slide into the pool and without hesitation put her face into the water and swam outside of the ring to Mommy. So there Mister Lifeguard. Now can we put her back in the nice safe kiddy pool?

Where's Taylor?

This past weekend Taylor went to Sparks camp where she professes to have had a hundred, kadrillion, million funs. Whatever that number is. When asked what she liked best, she said, all of it. The entire family drove the hour to take her there Friday night and stayed long enough at campfire for Mommy to learn a new song (black socks, and it annoys daddy) and to smell like smoke. Saturday morning, Mommy heard the squeak of Mackenzie door, the padding of her footsteps, followed by her call, "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. Taylor where are you?" Mommy had to update her as Daddy was already gone to work at 7:30am. Once Mackenzie was informed or reminded where Taylor was she was fine and denied missing Taylor whenever asked. Hey, she got to have both Mommy and Daddy to herself at the family swim, and to play with Taylor's friend Oliva without any jealousy being an issue.

What's That?

I am forever teasing my husband that he has a cartoon outfit in that he wears the same thing everyday. In cooler weather he wears a t-shirt under a denim shirt with black or blue jeans, all well worn, and with a black leather belt. In warmer weather he removes the denim shirt. It is only in the last two years that I have seen him wear shorts and he only owned one pair until I bought him two more. He also favors only two pairs of shoes and one of two jackets; leather for warmer weather, Columbia jacket for winter. One can never accuse him of spending too much on clothing; especially since his second-hand-clothing store skilled mother finds him and buys him most of his clothes; including new socks and underwear. So to continue with the story now that the necessary background is covered.... the other day my husband steps into the kitchen where our daughters are doing their usual, watching tv. Mackenzie points to my husband and asks, "what's that?" He looked around not knowing what she was referring to and after some repetition of the question, "what's that?" he came to realise what she was talking about. He had delved further back into the recesses of his closet and came out with something from his 10% category. Something outside his typical clothing. He was wearing not a denim shirt but a polo shirt. When a three year old comments on your clothing using the terms, "what's that?" I think maybe one should consider the fact that their clothing is predictable. But then, so what? However, I still find it hilarious.

Female Superhero Shortage

My nephew's third birthday was coming and he wanted to have a super hero party. This is a very popular theme in my nephew's home. The last time my girls dressed as princesses. This time I wanted to make them a super hero costume. Then came the challenge; trying to find a female super hero that was predominant and not vague in her moral character and didn't get on my nerves. That left out The Powder Puff Girls, The Power Rangers, Poison Ivy, Cat Woman, Supergirl (who?). I didn't want them dressing like Zena Warrior Princess or She-Ra though I suppose I could add more cloth to their usual costumes. And the girls weren't interested in being Invisigirl or Elastigirl. That left Wonder Woman, my heroine of years and years ago. And the girls actually knew who she was thanks to watching retro cartoons. Retro. shudder. Way to feel old. So we managed to throw outfits together for both girls as they both wanted to be Wonder Woman. The most difficult part was finding star stickers. So, they arrived at the party and the two other girls there were dressed as a princess, and Wonder Woman. Girls today, apparently, are in desperate need of female super heroes to look up to.

More Money

I had no idea this year that when my daughter went to school this year that it would cost me more money than I had been spending on a sitter. I had expected to save money. Ha! I only had to hand over twenty dollars for school supplies but then it was book orders (I'm a sucker for children's books), hot lunch and milk orders, fund raisers (magazine subscriptions and coffe), green Christmas, and school photos. Silly me, I thought school photos were only in the fall but now they have spring ones as well. And well...instead of writing a note and saying this is just another way to solicit money so I won't give my daughter permission to have her picture taken, I signed the form. Now she brings home her proofs and it's so.... cute. What parent doesn't like photos of their kid, even when they're crying? So, out I fork more money to send photos to the grandparents. And with a divorce in the mix that isn't two pictures, that's three. Then I'd like one for the half sister who lives in another province, one for my daughter of course for her memory album, and me. I think my sister had many reasons for deciding to home school her children, and this is one of them. Don't we pay taxes so our kids can go to school for free? Yet we send in boxes of tissues, wrapping paper, photo copy paper, and I drive my daughter to and from school because there is no busing for French Immersion. Money, money, money, always money, in a rich man's world.

Now We Can Go!

On Sunday both the girls had a long chat with Grandma on the phone about what they wanted to do when they go visit her in early June. Trying to explain when we were going proved difficult. We told Taylor another 87 days or three pages on the calendar, when school is over, and it's warm outside. Mackenzie, as a three year old, was more difficult to explain to. Monday morning Mackenzie was in the flyer getting dressed to take Taylor to school when she started getting excited, "now we can go to Grandma's. There's no snow." Oh dear. Time is going to go very slowly for Mackenzie as she waits for her trip to Newfoundland.

JUST A MOM? (email forward)

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 's office,
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

"What I mean is, " explained the recorder,
"do you have a job or are you just a ...?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.
"I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation,
'housewife' covers it,"
Said the recorder emphatically.


I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself
in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.
The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised,
efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like,
"Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know.
The words simply popped out.
"I'm a Research Associate in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in m midair and
looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,
in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest,
"just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice,
I heard myself reply,
"I have a continuing program of research,
(what mother doesn't)
In the laboratory and in the field,
(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family)
and already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,
(any mother care to disagree?)
and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).
But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers
and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,
testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom."

Motherhood!

What a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.


Does this make grandmothers
"Senior Research associates in the field of Child Development and Human
Relations"
And great grandmothers
"Executive Senior Research Associates?"
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts "

Associate Research Assistants."

Pool Crasher

Easter Monday came and I needed a way to keep us away from the candy and baked goods and to burn off some energy so we headed to the sports stadium for a workout and a dip in the pool. I picked the girls up at the daycare and we headed for the pool to meet up with their cousins. As usual, Mackenzie was so excited to get in and got herself dressed in her suit in record time; beating me. We put our towels on the counter, showered, and headed for the water, each of us picking up our own towels as we went. Also as usual, Mackenzie headed for the edge of the pool and fearlessly jumped in. Then she held up her right hand and looked at me puzzled; she still had her hooded animal towel in her hand, now sopping wet. Good thing I always take a bath sheet rather than a towel; enough to share with a friend or daughter.

Silly Bunny

This was the first year that Easter and more specifically, the Easter egg hunt, meant something to both my girls. Taylor was advising Mackenzie on where to look for eggs. She says the Easter bunny can be tricky and likes to hide things up high like on the top of the pictures. In the morning, the girls slept in until 8am. Taylor had to wait a grueling 30 minutes for Mackenzie to wake up. The second Mackenzie awoke, they were on their way. They searched the upper floor then, missing many eggs on the way, they went to the basement to check the laundry room. They found one chocolate egg and headed toward the window ledge for the pink chicken egg. The second they approached the motion sensor detection window, beep, beep, beep.... I had to stop my movie making and run to turn off the alarm. They alarm monitor person thought it was funny and asked how the Easter bunny managed to not set the alarm off. Taylor asked the same question and then decided it must have been magic. That shock over with, and the basement searched, the girls retraced their steps and found more eggs they had overlooked. Mackenzie found a Cadbury egg in her winter boot and bent over, hands on hips, laughing, "silly bunny!" She is still telling everyone she meets about the Easter bunny putting an egg in her boot. Now I just wish they would stop asking me how many days until the next Easter.

Non-Competetor

More and more, Taylor exhibits some unfortunate traits of my own. sigh. For the last four weeks of skating lessons she has been asking, "is this the last one?" and saying with conviction, "I don't want to go." I used to love skating lessons, I just never liked the competition or the grand show off event at the end. At least she doesn't have to endure that. Well, the last day of lessons came and she was most excited to receive her level two badge; however, she also had to ask, "is this the last day? Can I not go to lessons any more and just go after school?" Works for me. She's in enough activities now and it's rather cold for me to sit and wait in the arena for her for an hour. Here's for moving onto warmer activities. But are swimming lessons really warmer?

I'm Getting Smart!

Taylor announced to me the other day, "I'm getting smart. I know lots of things about penguins, and seals, and...." She has taken to asking about the animals she sees on tv and in books and I have to opportunity to check out books on the library about the animals. I have to admit, I'm getting smarter too for I now know lots of things about seahorses, seals, penguins ...."

Opportunity or Disappointment?

Over March Break, Taylor was given the opportunity to go with her cousin to Kindermusik. Her aunt was teaching and able to get her two children in in exchange. She opted to trade her youngest for my eldest, thus giving Taylor a chance to try it out. For the week before Taylor was pleading not to go. Finally when asking why she didn't want to go, she said she was too shy. She didn't seemed convinced that it would be OK even though she had attended one class before at the library and that both her cousin and aunt would be there. The night before she was excited when told that Grammie had made capes for all the kids who were going including a pink one. What a turn-around in attitude! Well she had a blast the first day though my sister said she was hard to read as she is very quiet. But Taylor was very happy when she got home and excited to go the next day and the next. She was not happy when on the third day she wasn't allowed to stay all day like the other kids. My sister only kept them there in the mornings. Then there was none on the fourth day. That evening Taylor wanted to know when her cousin could sleep over. Well, I began, he can't stay over tonight because he has Kindermusik in the morning. Her face lit up as she asked, "am I going too?" Her face fell just as dramatically when I told her, "no, you just got to go to the camp and he's going to his regular classes." She then wanted to know if she could sign up too. When told she's already signed up for a lot of activities she wanted to know if she could take it in the summer. The poor thing, for it isn't offtered in the summer. She seems content, for now, with my promise to look into it. I'll have to check the website soon.

Mommy's Going to Be Mad

On Sunday, my husband found a table and chairs for sale that are similar to our own. When it comes to family dinners we often don't have enough chairs to go around. So he went and snatched these five up at $6.00 a chair. They aren't as sturdy as the ones we have so he took our youngest and went off to buy some good wood glue before taking on the challenge of gluing them back together. He wrote me at work to say, "Two of the chairs have had the legs removed and glued back in place. Kenzie thought you would be mad that the chairs were apart. She said it was silly when I got her to sit on one of them with no legs." It's funny how little one's minds work.

Where Are My Cousins?

What is in a name, a title? On Wednesday afternoon past, friends came over for a visit. The mom's used to chat while the older girls played together, usually in the Burger King playroom. Our second children hadn't been born yet. We have invited them to all our birthday parties and have made a point of getting together on a regular basis. While they were visiting on Wednesday, Kenzie fell asleep on the rec room floor. Our company left and then it was time to go to Taylor's skating lessons. I scooped Kenzie up and she awoke when we arrived at the stadium. When we returned back home, "you-hoo!" Mackenzie called and then turned to me in bewilderment and asked, "Where are my cousins?" Puzzled, it took me a moment or two before I asked her, "Do you mean Joy and Hope?" "Yes," she answered. I guess, closeness isn't in being related but in time spent together.

Prescription Medication for Dummies

For three nights in a row, my youngest daughter, Mackenzie, has been running a fever hovering around 40 degrees Celcius. It's odd, but she hasn't had a fever in the day time other than Sunday afternoon. So, my husband was going to take her to the walkin clinic on Sunday afternoon while I was at work but Mackenzie slept all afternoon and when I got home it was too late to go. This morning I thought I'd have an excuse to get out of going to the gym but her temperature was normal, 37.2. So off we went. She did her usual things of watching tv, sitting in my lap, joining me in the shower, and then getting speedily ready to go pick Taylor up at school. Mackenzie, like usual, fell asleep on the way to school and keep on sleeping even when I moved her into bed once we got back home at 3pm. At 4pm it was time to get her ready for swimming so Daddy went in to get her. She was a bit whinney but who isn't when they are woken up (even though daddy said he didn't wake her). We packed up and took off, late for lessons. While dressing Mackenzie in her swimsuit I realized she was hot to the touch, again. She tried lessons anyway but unlike herself she got upset about being splashed and wouldn't blow bubbles. Ten minutes later, I scooped her up in a towel, then rinsed her off and dressed her for home. At 6pm we found ourselves on the way to the walkin clinic. Mackenzie slept the entire way there and on my shoulder in the waiting room. In the exam room she woke up wanted a drink of water and saying she was too hot; so she dramk from the tap and stripped out of her coat and shirt. Once examined, ears, chest, and throat I learned that her cough wasn't the problem, her lungs were fine but she has strep throat. Oh dear. I just wanted to be put out of my misery when I had that. But she wasn't complaining about her throat. Hmmm. Oh, uh. What about the kids at daycare? Guess it'll be a sick day for work. We got her prescription filled and put it in the cart under the infant seat for she was back to sleep again. I then picked up oralgel for Taylor who is getting her new teeth coming in front of her baby teeth and she finds it rather painful. I had to pay for my second purchase at another cashier. When leaving, I scooped Mackenzie and my second package up, forgetting the first with the prescription medication in it and our reason for being here. It was under the infant seat and I couldn't see it. Halfway to the car, I remembered it. I hoped no one had noticed my oversight. I went back in the indoor, carrying my sleeping three year old, my purse, and my second package. On my way I had to pass the magazine and book section. On the end of the display, in a bright yellow with black was one of the For Dummies series, "Prescription Medication for Dummies." I thought this quite funny. - I better go for Mackenzie crawled out of bed and came looking for me and is now passed out at the top of the stairs.

The Quiz

That seemed to be very, very easy even without taking notes and only took me about 10 minutes. I wish quizes were that easy going through school.

Thing #23: Twitter - the final thing

Instant messaging "stuff" again. sigh. As I said before, I have no patience for instant messaging. Use the phone. What happened to that personal contact? I can understand instant messaging's purpose if one has to contact serveral people quickly like when the storm cancelled my Pampered Chef party last week but many if not all of those people don't have instant messaging. Instant messaging is just encouraging and further developing the growing trend of "I want it now" in today's society. We have fast food, faster cleaning products (that create more waste and harm to the environment), priority post, quick fixes, etc. What happened to taking your time to do the job right or looking forward to the moment or savoring the present time? I don't want an instant message Valentine greeting, a fast food meal, and virtual flowers for Valentine's Day this year. It leaves something missing. Rush, rush, rush. Like in a song I like, "I'm in a hurry to get things done. I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I gotta do is live and die but I'm in a hurry and don't know why." I'm also wondering what gets left out when their is no body language or intonation to help interpret what one is saying. I know that I have often been misinterpreted in email without those two key elements. I've heard that 20% or meaning is in our body language. Smilies can't make up for that.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twitter

Yes! I'm finished all the challenges! Can't say I'll remember enough to complete the quiz though. I should have taken more and organized my notes.

Thing 21 and 22: Meebo

I found I couldn't do much with Thing 21 to try out meebo without going onto visit HRL Meebo chat room. It figures that once I take the time to go there and for once in my life try instant messaging, that there is no one there. But I'm used to talking to myself. But typing is more time consuming and I can listen to the lilt of my voice. LOL Seriously, I have no patience for instant messaging. I'll use the phone if I want to talk to friends or family and email or facebook allows us to exchange communication without being available at the same time.

http://blog.meebo.com/about

Thing #20: Folksonomy part one

The Wikipedia site describes Folksonomy as the practice and method of collaboratively creating and mangaing tags to annotate and categoize content. This method of tagging makes a body of information increasingly easy to search, discover, and navigate over time. Folksonomy enable Web users to label and share user-generated content, such as photographs, or to collaboratively label existing content, such as Web sites, books, works in the scientific and scholarly literatures, and blog entries.

The Term folksonomy is generally attributed to Thomas Vander Wal. It is a portmanteau of the words folk and taxonomy that specifiaclly refers to subject indexing systems created within Internet communities.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Folksonomy

Now, I'm not sure how to find "a folksonomy" in order to describe it here.

Thing #19: Friend Someone

I have done this already using facebook. Facebook did cause me some trouble though when a stranger was able to read, copy, and forward my communication. I have since learned that there are many privacy settings so that various information can be seen by everyone/friends only/ or only me. I have also learned that wireless conncections and public computers increase the risk of privacy breeches. Facebook also told me that no one should be able to read my email unless they have access to my account or the person I am corresponding with. I am also able to block certain people. There are many privacy features in other online services as well such as blogspot. In my blogspots, I have one that is viewable by everyone, and three that are by invitation only. I have also discovered there that I can invite up to 100 authors to my blogspots which is very useful for members of my girls' night group.

Mommy's Nurse

Yesterday I was beginning to feel what Taylor was complaining of Monday, crampy stomach, nausous, and just plain tired. I left the girls in front of the tv and went to bed. Taylor (who is 5 years old) came in shortly after telling me they would be in the kitchen if I needed anything to just yell and they would empty the throw up bowl if I needed them too. She also went and got a stool so she could close the blind and the curtains, saying, "there, is that like night time?" She then left shutting the bedroom door behind her. Minutes later she came in saying, I thought I'd get you some books in case you'd like to read. She then went to my bookshelf and filled a container with my books and placed them beside me on the bed, "Are these your favorites?" Mackenzie also ran in carrying what they called bedtime books from her own bookshelf. Again, Taylor left with Mackenzie, returning shortly after, "Here's the lamby (the hot water bottle) in case your tummy hurts." Again, she left, and a little more time passed before she returned with Mackenzie at her heals, "Mommy, here's a get-well card for you." They had both made one. Then they left and didn't return for over an hour. At that time they returned saying, "We're bored and hungry." So I got up and hurried through getting their supper and putting them to bed. I felt weak but better after my rest and Taylor's care. Where did she ever learn to bed so empathetic?

Skating Pro

I have been taking Mackenzie skating Friday mornings since October 2007. We usually only lasted on the ice for about 20 minutes and during that time Mackenzie was usually being pushed on a chair by me. "Faster, faster!" she'd ask. For the last month she has been taking her chair support and hitting the ice before I have my skates on. Also, for the last month I have been taking Taylor along as well, switching from morning skates to the after school skates. Both have been gaining in self-confidence and can now out-skate me. Yesterday, Mackenzie abandoned the chair minutes after getting onto the ice and only the last five minutes was being pushed around on a chair. She even skated once around the entire rink with me. She has also learned to get back up without holding onto anyone or anything when she does fall down. Now, now, I have to learn to skate again. My two girls don't need me any more and without pushing one of them on a chair, I no longer have it to hold myself up. I had to send Taylor after Mackenzie once when she crossed the barrier between the beginning skaters and the practiced skaters. I just can't keep up. However, we are all getting better. I can now stand up after a session on the ice for my legs are no longer reduced to jello. They are ;however, frozen for I'm not skating as quickly as I could while using a chair to hold myself up. As for Mackenzie, she has declared, once again, "I'm a big girl now. I'm five. Are you proud of me?" We must invest in a proper hockey helmet with a cage for she just skates full out. Even the supervisor commented that she could use a caged helmet for "she has no fear and she's cute as a button so I'd hate to see her fall on her face."

Things #17 and #18

Thing #17 says to try flickr. I set up an account but I do not have photos of my own at work to use flickr at this point.

Thing #18 requests that participants "tag" something. I have tagged people in photos on my facebook account. I hope this counts. This tagging helps to share with others with brief clicks rather than forwarding something that requires a lot of memory.

Mommy Sandwich

Way.....back when I was single (about 12 years ago) my bed often seemed to be very cold and lonely. I now long to have some space to myself even after moving up from a single mattress to a queen. Sunday night I was awoken by the slow creak... of my bedroom door which was then followed by a click with its closing, the pitter patter of bare feet, and tense silence as my little one stood next to the bed waiting to be addressed. "Hi." "Mommy can I come in with you?" As Taylor crawled in we had the usual exchange of I had a nightmare, what was it about, and I don't know, before we both succumed to sleep again. Sharing my bed with my girls is such a regular occurance that I don't always wake up when they do climb in. An unknown amount of time passed before I was rudely awakened by a smaller someone climbing up over the bed and me. "Hi, Kenzie." "Hi, Mommy." she replied as she roughly wedged herself in between her father and I. Now I lay between Mackenzie, on the left, and Taylor, on the right, making me the sandwich filling to this family submarine. The rest of the night was a bit rough. One arm was pinned under Taylor's head, at her request, and was falling asleep. I was also incredibly hot wedged between two young ones with high metabolisms. The limited space was hurting my hips so I rolled over on my side to release the pressure. Oh, to have my bed to myself again. But for now, they are both still so very little and still want to cuddle with Mommy. I shall take their affections while they are still willing to give them. In addition to this, they are both sick at the moment and only Mommys will do. But when is there cuddle time for Mommy and Daddy? And how much bigger do they have to grow before someone is falling out of the bed?

Thing #9 & 10 Capture an RSS feed

Yes!!! Thanks to help from a co-worker (here's to quiet Sundays and helpful co-workers) I have completed thing 9 and 10, capture Challenge 2.0 and an RSS feed. I can see how this could save a frequent internet user a lot of time closing and opening windows switching from one site to another. Where has this feature been all my web-surfing life? But then I just learned about control tab in firefox...

A Little Off The Top

Taylor had her first school concert last week and as she was standing there in her dress, necklace, and silver braclet between two young fellows in their spify ties, it occured to me: Taylor needs her hair cut. She looks raggedy and I should have had it cut before the concert. Ahhh..... So, since then I have been mentioning on and off that when I get paid next we'll have to go get our hair cut, that Taylor's eyebrows have disappeared, etc. Yesterday Taylor asked if I could cut her bangs. I told her that I used to cut my own but I don't want to cut hers because when my mother used to cut my bangs they would be crooked so she'd trim them again and again and they would end up way....up at the top of my forehead. Well... later that night I was on the phone talking to my on-the-road hubby and Taylor made a rush for the bathroom. A bit later she hadn't returned so I called for her, "Taylor did you get stuck in the toilet?" No answer. "Taylor!" Still no answer so I went to check. What to my wandering eyes should appear, but a pile of hair trimmings all over the floor, and a pair of fine scissors in my daughter's wee grip. Oh my. "Look, Mommy, I trimmed them myself." I couldn't understand how she got by me to get the "hair scissors" out of the kitchen cupboard while I was in the kitchen and then returned to the bathroom to trim her bangs almost up to her scalp in a jaggedy line and around her ears in a haphazard manner. sigh. "Good job Taylor but they're a little short. I thought you wanted to grow your hair out and only trim your bangs." "And I trimmed around my ears too." "That's going to make it hard to grow your hair long. Come here and we'll trim it up a bit." So...to make the most of it, I had a seat and trimmed off the stray bits still floating around her forehead, leaving the patches around the ears to remain as is. I just hope she doesn't get teased and tormented at school today. I suppose, in another month or so, her hair might not look too short any more.

Me a Big Girl

Sometime last week after the girls were put in bed for the night, I heard a banging sound. I sent my husband to investigate. He found Mackenzie kicking at her collapsible bedside railing, "me no like that no more. Me a big girl." I folded the railing up and put it in her closet. She has managed not to fall out of bed, yet, but I wish her blankets would stop falling out. Mackenzie has also declared, after a month of "accidents" that, "me no pee on the floor no more. Me a big girl now." That girl can be determined which is both a blessing and a curse at times. But true to her word, she hasn't had any more "accidents." Now I just hope she'll soon be able to finish her breakfast before it's ready to leave for her sister's school in the morning, "Mommy! me not ready to go yet! Me not finished!"

Deferred to Grammie

More and more lately, the girls are saying, "take it to Grammie, she'll fix it." I am starting to think they doubt my abilities. If Mackenzie needs her blanket satin edging, it's take it to Grammie. I guess I started it for Grammie's sewing machine and serger are always set up. My sewing machine is in a box in the basement. Then Grammie mended a sock or two while the girls were being babysat. Hey, I've sewn on buttons and repaired socks. But the other day, I will admit, I was a little hurt when Taylor said, "this curls up on my sock. Can you drop it off to Grammie to fix when you take me to school tomorrow?" Indignant, I finished putting Taylor to bed and went and dug out my sewing box, promptly sewing the snowman patch back onto Taylor's sock. The next morning, she turned the sock over in her hands, pulled at the edges of the snowman and asked, "you fixed this?" ugh. I guess a mother doesn't have the time to do those little things between running kids here and there, cooking meals, doing laundry, and trying to have together time. But Grandmother's, they make the time, for they are helping you and your kids, their grandkids, while proving their worth, and perhaps, doing the little things they wished they had done when they were "just" a mother.

Thing #15

I am getting behind on the challenge. I still have skipped thing 9 and 10 but alas, I'll get to it. Thing #15 was to try del.icio.us. It's useful for organizing my bookmarks and still be able to access them from any Internet computer (great for websites used for programming and be able to work for various computers). I can see it being very useful for patrons who use the public computers. It is also useful in that you don't have to use your own computer's space to bookmark. A co-worker swears by Notebook because one can add notes to it as well. I have found; however, that I have added most of my bookmarks to my blogspot already to do the same thing: save computer space and to be able to access it from anywhere. I am also getting tired of all my user names and passwords for I'm losing track of them. Is there a spot to store them? Ah, technology...attempting to keep up is a full time job.

First Lost Tooth

Just recently Taylor discovered that she had a loose tooth; her first loose tooth. Mommy, in all her wisdom, predicted that Taylor's tooth would be out by the weekend. This was about December 12. On our drive to go to the public pool for a swim, Taylor excitedly announced, "my tooth came out! Now the tooth fairy will come tonight!" We then had to scramble for something safe to put her baby tooth in. We found a discarded Christmas card envelope inside our darkened car. Upon returning home from our swim, Taylor had to phone and share her exciting news with her Grandma, her other grandparents, her cousin, and her (half) sister. In the morning, she had to call them again and tell everyone that she got markers, fairy markers, from the tooth fairy. Yesterday, she lost her second tooth. This time it was while sitting at the kitchen table and watching Christmas cartoons. So she sat down and made herself an envelope of her own design for her second baby tooth. When she finished making her envelope, to her great panic, Taylor couldn't find her tooth and was in a great panic, "it's gone forever." Mommy found it on the floor next to Taylor's knee where she knelt searching frantically. This time Taylor only had to phone her grandparents. This morning she asks her younger sister, "do you want to come with me and see what the tooth fairy left me?" Mackenzie in her usual form emphatically answers, "Sure!!!" Taylor soon returned to my room, shoulders slumped, listlessly flapping the item through the air, the tooth fairy left me "just a book." Her second tooth, and already her standards are set so high. She and her sister soon discovered that the book had foil stickers in the back that they had a grand time making up crafts with. Go figure.

Photo Flop

In all our brilliance, we decided to take our own photos this year. Usually I book an appointment in October at the Superstore to take the girls Christmas photos. We have the tripod, a better camera, flood lights, etc. so my husband suggested we take our own photos. We usually have to carefully write down who would like a photo and then decide what package we want accordingly. Then if we want more prints it's either break copyright law and scan it or pay $7.99 for another sheet of photos. It seemed best to take our own. We can even send to photos for printing in various provinces and have the relatives pick them up so they don't get mangled in the mail. So.... I showered the girls, they got dressed in their finery that Grandma bought them, blew dried their hair, added some pale lipstick (Taylor wanted to be like Mommy and look as pretty as she could with makeup), and some hairspray. Tah, dah. Daddy hooked up the flood lights, cleared the wooden bench, attached the camera to the tripod, used Taylor for some practice shots and we were ready. Or so we thought. Warren took two photos of the girls together, and one with me as well, then the batteries died. Figures. We'll have to try again later. Guess I won't be the first one mailing out my Christmas cards this year. There goes my reputation.

Strawberry Obsession

Mackenzie has discovered Strawberry Shortcake, the cartoon. I'm not sure how she learned about her though I did buy her a Strawberry Shortcake jacket last winter. I then bought her a comforter this fall but it just has strawberries all over it. We then borrowed some movies from the library (I have to sneak them back) and found a doll at Value Village. Hmmm.... I guess I started it. I still don't understand why she gets so excited about Strawberry Shortcake though. To me, she's as annoying as Dora the Explorer. They are both just so gosh, darn, chipper. We did lose the doll at Value Village when she got put down for a bathroom break and we were unable to find her again. I then asked on freecycle if anyone had one up for grabs and got a tip to check kijiji. We were able to buy two for $5.00; and one talks! Mackenzie was thrilled when Daddy brought them home. Now I'm loosly considering a Strawberry Shortcake theme for her birthday this month... I think I'll stick to a Doodlebops theme and try for Strawberry next year. There is so much available online for parties. Either way, Mackenzie is just thrilled to be having a party and "all my friends coming!"

Memories

glorified from the past,

frozen in time,

resurface through

reminders of location,

sensation, and activities,

unconsciously in dreams

and consciously through regrets.

I wish to metamorphize

this past relationship

and bring it into the reality of now,

paste over the rose-colored glasses

of yesterday

and capture it in realism.

I cannot pursue what wasn't

for this isn't the time

or the place for it to be.

I will have to take a new direction

of old and aging friends,

to purge myself of our past

that continues to reemerge

and interfere with my present.

I find I cannot turn my back

and let the past be past

so it shall have to change

and it shall have to mature

as my body, if not my mind, has done.

There is no place for that past

in my today.

With it, I cannot move on,

within the relationship I now have.

Brave Girl

Taylor's dentist appointment sadly didn't end with her being posted on the cavity free wall. Mommy's slacking off on flossing Taylor's teeth resulted in a cavity between the tight upper back teeth. Taylor, since receiving her shots for starting school, is rather afraid of needles. She was not thrilled about the idea of having to get a needle to have her tooth fixed. With a quavering voice she asked the dentist if she could have gas instead of a needle as mum had told her that sometimes people have gas instead of needles. She wasn't able to have that option. The dentist explained that she would put a type of jello on Taylor's gums so that the needle wouldn't hurt as much. Taylor said she had to get a needle for school and it really hurt. The dentist then expained that this needle wasn't going into her muscle and wouldn't hurt as much. Mum and little sister had to leave for Taylor to get her work done. The dentist didn't want to scare Mackenzie for any of her future visits. About 30 minutes later when Mackenzie was asking if she could see Taylor now the dental hygenist arrived and said Taylor did well and we could go see her now. Taylor, cheek all puffed up, was rooting through a treasure box of stickers and tattoos for being such a good girl. She wasn't phased by her experienced at all. She puffed up in a big grin when mum told her she was proud of her. Taylor then wanted to call all her relatives and tell them what a great job she had done getting her cavity fixed. She then announced she was hungry and wanted something to eat.

Thing Number 8: try an online processor

I tried google documents and created a xmas shopping list and wrote a wee poem (also published here on my blogspot). I used to do a lot more poem composing. I can see the convience of keeping documents online so that they are accessible from any computer rather than having to download and upload in order to share or to edit. This option has great potential.

Relationships take work.

Great relationships take even more work.

But they're worth it.

The more you put in,

the more you can get out.

Relationships are also a two way street.

It takes two of you to move forward.

Or only one does the work,

and burns out feeling unappreciated.

It takes honesty even when it hurts,

for the imagined may be worse.

It takes understanding;

attempts to understand and

help to make one understand.

It takes agreeing to disagree

rather than having to always win

thereby creating a loser.

It takes respect.

Respect for self so that one doesn't lose

too much of oneself and have nothing to give.

Respect for the other

so that one tries to accomodate,

compromise, and please.

It takes choosing to love

in spite of little things that irriatate

or things we don't agree with.

True love begins when the lust wears off

and we choose to stay

and we choose to do

because we want to.

Wikipedia's view of scrapbooking

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scrapbooking

Thing Number Seven: Wikipedia article

Being the crafty person that I am (take that expression as you wish), I decided to read an article on Scrapbooking. I was very interested to learn the history of it such as that it began almost as soon as printing began and that it was similar to oral story telling only with a more visual and tactile element. Makes sense to me. I'm more a visual learner than oral so it makes sense that I would enjoy passing on my families stories through scrapbooking. Hey, I'm now amongst the elite of Thomas Jefferson and Mark Twain who also scrabooked! Scrapbooking as it is now understood was started in 1976 by Marielen Christensen who made 80 albums in 4 years. And I thought I had too many albums! I think I have 14 completed albums in 7 years. I thank Marielen and her huband, AJ, for starting and devolping scrapbooking as it is known today. It has been an emotional outlet for me, has helped me to find time to be with my friends, and has helped me to capture and preserve the memories and moments of my family. I'm addicted.