Monday, November 19, 2007

Where have you gone?

I am somebody's Mom.
Of course I am.
And normally, I'm quite good at it.
I know the right vitamins to feed them.
We have food charts with all 38 of the required food groups.
We use tupperware that is all recyclable for the perfect boomerang lunch.
We have chore charts and allowances.
I belong to the PTA.
We have activities and play dates.
We have a limit on computer time and age appropriate video games.
We have healthy snacks.
We check homework.
We have an "asthma plan".
We wear clean pjs every day.
I try so very hard.

But the kids are whiney. Super whiney.
I don't know how to fix it. I just don't know how.
Is the answer herbs?
Behaviour modification?
Councelling?
Change in diet?

I just don't know. What is the secret?
Do I need to read that Doctor Phil book? Could Dr. P help?
Don't tell me I have to call Super Nanny??!?!

My cousin Amy, who is 30 something now, was the whiniest child in the history of the world. She sucked her thumb until she was almost 12. She pouted for ever. She just breathed complaints. Until she hit her teens. She was the most agreeable person ever come age 16. Now, Amy has 2 kids of her own. She is one of my favourite people in the world.

So, Amy gives me hope. Hope that this is a phase that they will grow out of. I'm sure it is but, frankly, how do we all make it through ALIVE?

I see so many of my friends make bad horrible mistakes with their kids.

I see their kids go off the rails. Get in trouble with drugs and the law. Get kicked out of school or drop out of school. These people thought that they were good parents too.

I can't rely on the hope that my children are anti-social nerds to be the plan for the future.

There is nothing worse than seeing your child hurt. The boo boos hurt physical or mental or social. I can't even seem to handle my own social interactions and friendships let alone those of my kids.

I can't protect them.

I remember when Ben was 3. The little girl next door, Jodi, was 4. He always wanted to play with Jodi and be with Jodi. And Jodi held ALL the cards all the time. One day in particular, Ben asked Jodi if he could come and play and she SHUT HIM DOWN. NO. And Ben started to cry....Jodi won't let me play....and I tried to soothe him - its okay - another day - you'll be okay. Ben screamed "but I LOVE her!" In a voice that made me believe that he really truly did love her. And although his heart seemed broken, I can't tell you how it gutted me. His first rejection - his first unrequited love - and he was 3.

How do you mend a broken heart? Hell if I know.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Humbug Ho Hum


I don't HATE Christmas. The holiday itself doesn't offend me - but, quite seriously, there are so many things about the season that bug the shit out of me, it would almost seem that I do.
Today we went to the Santa Claus Parade in Toronto. I LOVE the Santa Claus Parade. When I was a kid, I watched it on tv. When I lived in Toronto to go to University, I went alone. When I lived in Toronto and had friends, I dragged them along. I even forced my parents to come and bring my cousins when I live right at Christie Pits. I love that parade.
I love that they use the same costumes and floats year after year after year. In person the colours are super human - super flourescent. If you watch on tv, it looks normal - but really, its not.
Pink pinker than pink.
And rightly so.
And who doesn't love the upside down clowns? In fact, this is the FIRST year that Ben noticed that the upside down clowns have eyeholes in their asses. At 9, its starting to lose its magic for him. I swear to you, it will come back!
The Christmas that I don't HATE didn't begin with the parade though. It began yesterday at Loblaws where I fought to get the last two carts available in the store apart for me and some old Papi. They were fused. I had to wait for some poor sap to unload his groceries into his car before I could get a cart. WTF? It is NOVEMBER?
Walmart was a zoo yesterday. People had carts full to overflowing with crap. Toys toys toys.
The kids have started their Christmas Whine. Gimme gimme gimme. And we encourage this by having them write letters to Santa asking for STUFF. Everyone at school, on tv, who calls wants to know what STUFF they want. Always. Gimme gimme gimme....
Bah Humbug!
Because we are SEASONED Parade go-ers, we knew to park and take TTC to the parade. BUT we had to walk through the mall to get to and from the car. The mall was INSANELY busy. We were all starving - and I wouldn't stop at the food court. Too many people too many lines too many too many too many.
I couldn't take my hands off of Sammy - paranoid as I was that I would lose him. In the subway, Sammy, who's had I did have, and I got on to the car. Wayne and Ben did not. We had to wait for them at Kennedy. Sammy sobbed uncontrollably on the super jammed subway car "we lost Ben and Daddy" the whole way there. I'm sure that made everyone else's trip as enjoyable as mine.
And don't even get me STARTED on the radio station that plays only Christmas music from November 1 to January! What the hell? Its like nails being driven not only into my ears but my psyche....I hate is so very very much. Mariah Carey has no place in a civilized society. Even worse - today I heard Rod Steward and Dolly Parton murder "Baby its cold outside". Make it stop.
But, Wayne loves this station. As soon as he gets in the car, on it comes. If I even try to change it he says "Why do you hate Christmas"?
I DON'T!
Wayne wants to buy a set of deer made out of lights for our front yard. This would be in addition to our two 3 foot high candles that say "NOEL", lit bushes, garland and bows and light up candy cane walkway. As I SCREECH "no way!" He says again, "Why do you HATE the holidays?"
I swear to you I don't!
Last year I had 6 parties in 7 days between Christmas and New Years. I was scheduled within an inch of my life. This year, only 5. Much better.
If I don't bake cookies, I stand the chance of being harrassed by both my mother in law and Wayne. Last year, I made 12 different kinds and made gift boxes of cookies for neighbours and friends. Do you think that any of them guess that they are cookies motivated not by love and good wishes but by guilt and intimidation?
My Mother was the Queen of Christmas. This year, I promise you all, I will NOT try to compete with her. I will NOT let Alan Jackson's version of "all I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth" drive me to a homicidal rage. I will not pressure myself into making fudge. I will not buy my kids way too much out of a combination fo guilt and confusion. I will relax.
Breathe. Just Breathe.
I do not hate Christmas.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

labels

I think it may indeed be unfortunate that my favourite thing about my new job is the Brother P-touch electronic label maker. It has 8 different fonts. I love labelling things. Files - that's a no brainer. My calculator. I wish I could stick labels on all my stuff. I have a lot of stuff at the new job
I am also enjoying the industrial strength shredder.
So far I'm only taking joy from the office equipment because I don't really know what the fuck I'm doing. When I know - you'll know.