Ideas

I'm an idea person.  I throw them out there.  Good or bad, if I get an idea then I put it out there into the universe and let it fall where it may.  My kids seem to have inherited this trait. 

R gets her own ideas...about one a minute, it seems.

"Mommy, can I put a tattoo on my face?" 
"Mommy, let's have a garage sale!"
"Mommy will you take me to a wishing well?"
"Mommy, I'm gonna have an art show!"
"Mommy, I want to yodel at the top of a mountain."

I like to try to encourage her ideas.  So today I took her to yodel at the top of a mountain.  She was a bit disappointed because her yodel didn't come back to her like she expected.  She is convinced that the mountain was not big enough so we are going to have to try it again on a higher peak next time.  It was still fun, though.

B has his own ideas.  His idea of a good time is to go full tilt.  He likes to max out the capacity of fun in every situation and it is infectious. Last night B and I "relaxed" in the hot tub.

I'm proud that my kids have their own ideas.  It makes them who they are and I hope that they are always bold enough to try to make their ideas fly!

Bunny-mania!

Bookworms

I really should wear glasses.  I spent countless hours devouring books as a kid.  Every series you can remember:  Nancy Drew, Sweet Valley Twins, Babysitters Club.  My faves were all the Judy Blume books, everything by Constance C. Greene, and various other choice authors.  I read virtually every book in our public library's youth section.  I especially loved offbeat stories about kids who lived in NYC and took the subway on their own.  Their independence and adventure was unfathomable to me as a ten year old sitting holed up in our house avoiding the thirty below weather outside the door.  Reading was my passion.  I probably averaged a book a day from about age 8 until 15. I simply could not put a book down.  I would smuggle my flashlight into my bed and read under the covers long into the night.  Even if it was not a great story I would still loyally flip page after page until I read the last line.  Glasses or not, I was definitely a bookworm. 

Today was the first day in a long time that I devoured a book, A Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou. I carried it around with me and read it in bits and pieces. I started it over breakfast, continued it while B had his bath, picked it up again while the kids played library in R's room, and then finished it in the afternoon during some downtime. It is not a long book but it is rich. It holds your interest with paradox. Maya Angelou is tough and vulnerable, proud and humble. She is beyond wise and worldly and her writing is so entrenched with her identity that you can hear the rhythm of her deep voice behind the words. Today, I was a happy little bookworm. 

Now that R is four she has a few more responsibilities and perks.  Last week she got a library card and she is so proud!  I gave her a little pink wallet to keep it in and she insisted on bringing it to preschool yesterday to show her teacher.  It is a badge of honour for her.  Tangible proof that she is growing up.  She is on the cusp of reading.  R is a wordy type of kid and she mastered her alphabet early and has been sounding things out for awhile now.  Despite my teaching background I haven't spent much time actually teaching her to decode print.  Right now she is resistant to any type of suggestion, advice, correction from me (I guess that starts young!) so I haven't pushed.  She is picking things up at preschool, though and she definitely has all of the readiness skills.  My hope is that she doesn't just simply learn to read.  I hope that R blossoms into a true bookworm who appreciates the feeling of a crisp page flipping under her thumb and strangely enjoys that musty old smell of library books.  Yes, I daresay we may have the beginnings of another bookworm!

Case in point...

B was being unruly this afternoon and landed himself in a timeout in his bedroom.  It was past nap time for him so I left him for a few minutes to see if he would just pass out.  He was so quiet that I thought he had...then I opened his door to this...
He had ransacked his room and found a tin of diaper cream which I didn't even realize we still had kickin' around.  He tried various uses for this extremely thick white cream.  He painted the wall a bit, then wiped his hands on his clothes.  I guess he must have liked how the white highlighted his clothes because then he moved onto his curtains, and his rocking chair cushions.  When he was done and he had leftover white "paint" he decided to see how it would enhance his coif....

*I took these pictures after some lag time so that he doesn't think we are glorifying his naughty behaviour!
I swear, Curious George has nothing on this little monkey.  Sidenote: If your two year old tries this then shampoo will not work!  Try spraying vegetable oil on his head, let it sit for a while and then shampoo.  You may need to do this a few times.  About 30% of it is still in his hair after three shampoos and one very red scalp!

I also performed a dual pom-pom-ectomy last week to extract art supplies out of his nasal cavity.   Let's just say that we did the "good ol' press n' blow" and a tiny, slimy white pom-pom went shooting across the room.  Then for good measure we followed suit on the other side and out flew a globby yellow one.  It hit the wall before it slid to the floor.  Sorry, no pictures of that, though!

B @ 2.5

One of the perks of giving birth to my second child was that I was prepared for that unbelievable moment when you meet your child for the first time. I knew to relish in it. Hold onto it. To cherish and remember the way my cuddly little boy just peacefully looked at me like I was exactly who he was expecting to see. And I let myself love B completely right from the start.  He was such a calm, cool, and collected little baby.  He was perfectly content...I'm sure my memory has rewritten history but I don't even remember him crying...he was so easy to settle down.  Those are nice memories to have, but things have changed.

Now that B is rounding the bend to two and a half he is no longer calm and collected, but he is definitely still cool.  B knows how to enjoy life.  He really loves life and his winning personality just invites you in to love things as much as he does.  At least that is what he is like most of the time.  Other times B loses his mind.  After all, he is two.  He is testing us and trying out all of the stereotypical two year old behaviours that he can think of.  So we are trying to weather the storm...there seems to be a ray of sunshine behind every thunder cloud. 

There are so many cute and comical things B does in a day, it is hard to keep track but here's a few:

• He doesn't walk anywhere, he puts his little hands up and pumps his arms and runs as fast as he can. 
• He is into introducing himself to people by boldly saying, "Hi, I'm B what's your name?"
• He is a total "me-do" insisting on independence in all his daily tasks from tooth-brushing to putting on his shoes.
• He has one-sided conversations with his toys, like today in the car holding a superman figurine saying, "Supaman - you have booooots, you have undawaya, you have a cape, you have awms..."etc...
• He easily scales to the top of the monkey bars with no fear while I nervously spot him from below.
• If I'm holding him in my arms he grabs both sides of my face and enthusiastically smooches both of my cheeks with a loud, "mwah! mwah!" and then laughs hysterically.

This kid is growing up fast!  Always trying to keep up with his older sister and always keeping us entertained...or at least busy!

The me I wanna be...

I am not one of those super cool moms whose kids molded to fit their life...the kids nor I look like we just stepped out of an Anthropologie catalogue. Shopping with the kids ceased to be fun when they stopped sleeping in the stroller. We don't eat exotic meals together, some sort of noodle seems to be involved in every dish I serve. The mere thought of long car rides or air travel is enough to break me into a cold sweat. My life definitely changed to accomodate my kids.  But now they are two and four and there is a little more room in my life for me...so I am reinventing me.  I like me, but I think I could like me even better.  So I haven't exactly sat down and planned anything out.  No major reinvention - I am trying not to overthink this too much.  Just a few tweaks here and there where things are out of tune.

Health is one area where I need to tune up.  I love pasta, bread, chocolate and wine.  It is a family tradition that goes back five generations to eat a spoon of peanut butter every day as the key to longevity.  Who am I to tempt fate?  My favourite people in the world are those who show their love with food (aka RKA)...We are a group of foodies, the lot of us and I don't know if that is ever going to change.  I don't know if I even want it to...

So I have decided to focus on the exercise aspect of health and I have been shocked to find out that exercise actually can be fun (well, sort of)...I have been running with my mommy friends and they make it fun.  We all strap our little ones into various configurations amongst our strollers and then us mommies actually get a little cardio and conversation.  Believe me, there have been some roadside scenes which would make you wonder.  R has had to ride home perched on top of the stroller (don't ask why).  B has had to be seperated and ride in the storage compartment at the back of our "adventure stroller" (again, don't ask why).  Yes, every run is an adventure.  But there is also something satisfying about getting out there rain or shine.  Yesterday there were four mommies hauling 8 kids around our 5ish K loop and a driver in her forties rolled down her window to cheer us on and shout, "Stroller Derby - Woohoo!"...I'm sure we look pretty comical but she's right - you wouldn't want to mess with us!

I have also been doing "The Shred"...I did thirty days and now I am restarting the loop as a supplement to running and yoga.  The thing about the shred is that after I do it I feel sweaty.  And sore.  After yoga I feel calm and fluid.  Problem is the shred is free whereas my yoga class could get pricy if I went more frequently.  I think thirty yoga classes would cost about $300.  Thirty days of the shred is absolutley free costing me only twenty minutes per day plus blood, sweat, and tears. 

I have other lofty goals.  Like really figuring out my camera and photoshop.  I am trying to teach myself these things by surfing blogs and just tinkering with my own photos.  I think the hardest thing right now is catching the right moments and the right aperture and exposure all simultaneously.  When that happens it is like the clouds parting and miracles occuring (I swear, sometimes I can hear the ethereal music).  The nice thing about digital though is that you can enhance the photos when something is off.  My goal is to be able to get better pictures straight out of the camera without spending much time in photoshop.

I'm a thinker. I mull. I ruminate. I chew on ideas for awhile. I have a feminist rant brewing up inside as I type this.  I've got more to say than to just relay cute stories about the kids...but I think my favourite stories are still the ones about the kids...

Here's R&B today on the unseasonably latest snow day I can remember!

Lola was not impressed...

B was beside himself...

R was actually really excited but was making this face...

....and R&B found peace through a common goal (snowman) and a shared shovel on a slippery bridge...

Snowsuits, boots, toques, shovels...it looks like April is also reinventing itself.

Reinvention is liberating and promising.  Don't worry, I'll save my rant for another day.

Carnival!

Hands down - the best thing about being a parent is seeing the world through your children's eyes.  We took them to the carnival on Friday night and their eyes were smiling...