kids – Page 4 – Tough Bananas

5 Free Valentines For Your Kids

Valentine’s Day is the holiday that helps you get through the bleak days of winter. And it’s also a great opportunity to ~~eat chocolate~~ let people know you care. But do your kids really need more candy or cute stuffed animals to grasp your love for them?

No.

So, this year why not show your offspring how much you love them by your actions? It’s the sugar-free, budget-friendly way to let them know they will always be your special valentine. The possibilities are endless, but to get you started I present:

Five FREE Ways to Show Your Child You Love Them

Announce in the school hallway that you won’t forget to buy your son new underwear, just like he asked. Kids need to know you’ll keep your promises, it helps them feel secure.
Did your daughter miss a text while in the shower? Go ahead and reply for her. She’ll thank you. Be sure to include LOL at least twice to keep it authentic.
Wait to choose your outfit until after your child is dressed, then you can match. Disregard any eye rolls or protests, they secretly love it.
If you don’t already have a cute pet name for your child, now’s the time to create one. Then use it loudly and frequently in public so all of “Poopsie’s” friends know his mom is the greatest.
Start an after dinner family sing-along. Preferably with rounds. Music = togetherness.

See? It’s that simple. Economical relationship-building is so rewarding. Make room on your mantle for all the “Mother of the Year” trophies that are coming (it’s okay to buy a few yourself, just to get started).

Blue Day

It was a typical morning. The beds were made, boys were dressed, I got myself ready and headed to the kitchen to join the family for breakfast. That’s when it all changed. One simple, seemingly harmless observation was all it took.

“Hey! You’re wearing a blue shirt and so is Daddy – did you guys plan that?” I asked Son #3 who was busy eating his cereal.

He paused, mid-shovel, looked down at his clothes, then gasped, “I’m wearing blue, too!”

“Yes, that’s what I just said.”

“I’m wearing blue and Daddy is wearing blue!”

(do I not get credit for stating that very observation ten seconds ago? Nothing? Not even a nod?)

“I’m wearing blue, Daddy is wearing blue and so are you!” and he pointed to Son #4.

“Yes, it’s almost like you planned it. Is today Blue Day?”

“So, Daddy is wearing blue, I am wearing blue, that brother is, but NOT THAT BROTHER.”

“Right, like I said, lots of us are wearing blue today.”

“I have blue on my shirt, see?!” piped up Son #1, clamouring to be included in this momentous occasion.

“But it’s not ALL blue, like Daddy and me,” retorted #3.

“It’s blue. Right. Here,” #1 shot back.

“That means one, two, three, THREE of are wearing blue.”

“And me,” #1 angry-whispered, not willing to back down.

Me: “I’m wearing a blue shirt today, too, but it’s not the same shade.” (What? Why was I still engaging in this conversation? Somebody stop me).

#3 glances at me and shouts, “Hey! You’re wearing blue, too. That means, one, two, three, FOUR of us are wearing blue.”

Are you even hearing me? Maybe they can’t see me. Wait, Bearded Husband just rolled his eyes at me, so I’m definitely visible.

#2 Son strolls into the kitchen.

“Wait, that brother has blue on his shirt so that means, one, two, three, four FIVE of us have blue on. But only me and Daddy are wearing the same blue. ACTUALLY, he has some blue on, too. So that means, one, two, three, four, five SIX of us are wearing blue today. But only me and Daddy are wearing the same blue.”

#2 shrugs and exits kitchen.

#4 randomly shouts out, “NooooooOOOO,” just to be controversial, then struts out of the room.

This will not do. #3 throws his arms up in the air in exasperation, “But it ISN’T.”

I’ve lost track, what were we debating? Is it hot day? Did I put pants on? I’m so confused.

#3, “We all have blue on, it’s like it’s Blue Day.”

Yes, yes it is.

———

The Brother Commission

If you think kids aren’t organizing, you are sadly mistaken.

Brothers, gather round. Our agenda for today’s meeting is quite full, so we should get started on time. Keith, I believe we talked about not bringing our light sabres to these discussion groups. If you feel that strongly, then you should have added that to today’s agenda.

Item one: Play Time.

We are only partway through winter and the novelty of our Christmas gifts wore off weeks ago. Let’s face facts, Mom isn’t exactly bringing her A-game when it comes to our recreation time. We all heard her recent rant about it not being her “job” to “entertain” us and if we are “bored” there’s “dusting” we can do, followed by some muttering about that’s why she gave us brothers. So we are on our own. At least until Daddy gets home.

Everyone loves a round or two of Toilet Tag, but let’s workshop it a bit to make it more fun. No, Keith – you know weapons are not allowed. Keep thinking.

Let’s hear from Littlest. His attention span is the shortest so he will likely leave before we adjourn.

Brilliant! Underwear Toilet Tag. So simple, yet so effective. Same game, but in only our underwear. All in agreement? Motion passed.

Ok, technically the Chair does not recognize Littlest again, but to avoid a tantrum, let him speak.

Another home run idea! Underwear Basement Balloon Soccer. It combines two of our favourite things: physical aggression and pantlessness. Pass him a gummi worm, he deserves it.

I move we continue to workshop this skivvies theme. All in favour? Great, let’s do this.

What else is better in underwear? Speak slowly, the five-year-old is taking minutes.

Restaurant

Pet Store

Train Station

Sibling Sandwich. Someone is going to have to get Mommy on board with us using the couch cushions. She wasn’t thrilled when we made that labyrinth last week and then “forgot” to put them back.

Air Hockey. Probably to do with aerodynamics, further study is needed.

Hide-and-Seek. I think we all remember last Thursday’s unfortunate incident, so a reminder to steer clear of folding doors.

Puzzles

Breakfast

Snack

Lunch

Snack. Yes, Keith, both snack times will be proposed.

Dinner. Let’s agree to keep working on Daddy regarding this one, he’s so focussed on “hygiene”. I think Mommy has just resigned herself, so she’s a potential ally.

Listen, we need to adjourn for Snack Time. Sorry, Keith, for now, keep your pants on.

My 5 Rules for Canadian Kids in Winter

It’s January in Canada, so it’s cold. Really cold. However, it’s nothing we can’t handle. We may be overly polite and apologetic, but we are a hearty people. If your snot doesn’t freeze inside your nostrils, it’s cold but not really cold. If your breath doesn’t crystalize on your scarf when you exit your house, toughen up – you are Canadian.

Travelling anywhere in winter with small children in tow requires a minimum of 12 extra minutes prep time (I’ve done extensive research on this, trust me). If you are running late, it will take them 27 minutes because science. And so, I present to you…

My Five Rules for Canadian Kids in Winter

1. Layer. Two pairs of socks, extra mittens. We all know it feels bunchy, just do it.

2. Wet mitts won’t dry in a bin. They go on the dryer – every time. Remember? The dryer? Any good Canadian household will have the standard minimum of two such contraptions.

The house will still smell like wet dog, but for a shorter duration.

3. Shut the door. All the way. Right away. JUST SHUT THE DOOR.

4. Tiny mittens that stretch when you put them on are not really mittens. Real mittens impede all fine motor skills. They also prevent frost bite. Hold still while I tie your scarf tighter to muffle your complaints.

5. Put on your snow pants. Forget that, just put on any snow pants. No argument, no excuses. We all agree that they hinder movement, but they also prevent your skin from burning on the walk to school. And snow pants always go on first, it’s the law.

Yes, it’s cold out there, but we can get through it together. As long as you SHUT THE DOOR.

The Perfect Super Villain

Small children are cute, funny, energetic, and sweet. Sometimes they are exasperating, some days inspiring. But they are never, ever subtle. Of all the adjectives available to describe tiny human beings, “shrewd” does not top the list. Preschoolers would make horrible spies. However, they would make excellent super villains.

Here are my top 5 reasons that preschoolers would be fantastic at over-the-top-subterfuge.

1. They cannot keep their intentions a secret.

“Oh, I have had too many jellybeans already? Don’t look at me. No particular reason, I just don’t want you to look at me at this moment. Close your eyes. Do it. And no, I won’t be eating candy, I just want some privacy.”

2. They tip their hand far too early in the game.

“When you tell me that it is nap time then I am going to tell you that you are STUPID and to SHUT UP.”

3. Outrageous punishments for perceived injustice.

“You refuse to buy more Goldfish crackers because ‘allegedly’ we have ‘lots at home’? Watch me throw myself on the floor of this grocery store and FEEL MY WRATH.”

4. Outlandish plans.

“When I get bigger I will buy ALL THE SKITTLES IN THE WORLD AND EAT AS MUCH AS I LIKE and no one will stop me because I will be BIG.”

5. They are always shocked and amazed when their plans are thwarted.

“How could you have known I was emptying an entire can of shaving cream into the sink? Who snitched?”

Well, that did not go according to plan.

If we aren’t careful, one day soon these little ankle-biters could rule us all.

_____________

*all gifs from http://www.giphy.com

I Blew It

I blew it.

Again.

Every day I wake up and tell myself to make the most of the day. To be patient. To be understanding. To be the parent our boys deserve.

Some days I hit a home run. I engage, create, play, listen, comfort, and console. Those days I tuck them in at night and feel content and hopeful. Hopeful that I’m doing this whole parenting thing right. Hopeful that this day’s good will spill over into the next one, and the next, and maybe even the day after that.

But the next day there are shortened tempers, tattling, demands for favourite pants that are still wet from the washing machine. But I cling to the good from yesterday and dig in deeper to make it return. But this day there are battles over diggers, refusals to put on socks, back talk over packing vegetables in their lunches.

There’s still hope to turn this day around before yesterday’s good slips away completely. I take a deep breath and remind myself that they are young and selfish and sometimes just jerks. I need to model patience and compassion, tolerance and forgiveness.

He’s giving you a message, are you listening? He’s asking for that back, talk it out.

I feel yesterday’s good seeping out via yelling and slamming and stomping and then finally realize that I am doing it, too.

Don’t talk to me that way! STOP IT. STOP. IT. I WON’T HAVE IT.

My hand comes crashing down on the countertop for emphasis.

Emphasis? Or just frustration? Anger? It is anger.

Anger that they are cruel to each other. Anger that they deliberately set each other off. And anger at myself for losing control of my temper – the very thing I try every day to instil in their young personas.

I blew it.

Again.

We talk it out and we try to smooth over the powerful emotions. Apologies are offered and forgiveness received. But yesterday’s good is long gone – there’s nothing reserved for today. Today we start from scratch.

A friend texts and I share the struggles of the morning. I’m getting better at that, the sharing of the real stuff. Admitting that sometimes parenting is difficult makes you vulnerable, but I’m learning that I can’t do it on my own. I can’t even do this with just my husband. I need to be honest with my friends and let them be part of the funny anecdotes and the uglier moments.

I blew it.

Again.

This day I tuck our boys into bed and whisper into their hair how much I love them and I get a giant squeeze around my neck. There it is, I can see it – tomorrow. Tomorrow is a new day, full of good.

————

Thank you, friends who walk this path of parenting that is both terrifying and joyful all at once. I could not do it without you.

Don’t Be Creepy

“Yes! You’re right, there’s your leader from day camp last week. Would you like to say ‘hi?”

Superhero socks are the perfect conversation-starter — Socks are the perfect conversation-starter

Off we went so that my outgoing five-year-old could see his leader from the previous week whom he adored.

He got about four feet away and clammed up, barely making eye contact.

“Why don’t you show her your new socks, buddy?” I suggested as a way to break the ice.

He quietly lifted up his leg so she could see his Ironman socks. She feigned the exact right level of enthusiasm, but my little guy was still acting shy. We headed back to our group of friends to continue our conversation.

As we left he piped up, “her voice sounds different.”

“Maybe she has a cold or something.”

A few moments later he was making eyes at her again from behind my legs.

“Would you like to go back over?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Alright, but this time you need to say something to Hollie otherwise it’s just creepy.”

So off we went again and he belted out a hearty “HELLO” and scurried away, giggling nervously (not creepy at all, nicely done).

It was as I trailing behind him that another friend quietly whispered in my ear, “um, that’s not Hollie, it’s Nicole.”

Of course it was, I knew it all along.

No, not creepy at all.

———

No names have been changed as the only identity needing protection is mine.

My Big Year

This is it – my year at home.

I’ve taken a leave and will be holding down the home front. Our three oldest boys are in school full time so that leaves me and Little together. This is a completely new experience for me. The last time I was home with only one son, he was a baby. All my previous years at home have involved a newborn.

Oh, I guess I should explain – Bearded Husband and I have alternated years at home caring for our family. I took the first maternity leave year, then he took an unpaid parental leave, I got pregnant and had another maternity leave, repeat. This has worked well for us, but we decided no more babies. I’ve worked two years in a row and now am home with our three-year-old.

Do you know what it’s like to go from teaching kindergarten, to a summer with four boys, and then to end up at home with a three-year-old who still naps in the afternoon? IT FEELS LIKE I’M AT A SPA.

The first day with just the two of us, we hopped in the van and took a special Mommy and Son road trip. There was no bickering, no pushing to get in first (well, I might have elbowed him a bit), no one complaining that “he’s looking at me”. As we coasted down the street I rolled down my window, waved at a neighbour and sang out, “we’re going to Target – because I CAN.”

Freedom, glorious freedom.

We purchased the five items on our list, plus eleven things I didn’t realize I needed. We drove home chatting and listening to the radio. I think he even thanked me for the adventure.

Do you know what else you can do when you’re home full time? Reheat your coffee in your own microwave. What a luxury.

Another unexpected bonus to being with Little is learning that he stashes small toys down the furnace grate when he doesn’t want to share. So thoughtful.

Yeah, I put it down there, what's the problem? — Yeah, I put it down there, what’s the problem?

You haven’t lived until you’ve tried to fish some Lego hair out of a furnace duct. It is perhaps the scariest thing I’ve had to do – keep in mind that I once rescued a keychain from the toilet.

I’m not entirely sure what this year at home will look like, but I have plans, big plans. In addition to projects around the home and spending time with Little, I’m planning to connect with all my sons in a different way, be more hands-on and knowledgeable about their daily adventures than when I worked full time. I’m also hoping to invest more in friendships (old and new) and to give back to our community more.

Yes, big plans. They may seem lofty, but it’s only begun and already I’m ticking things off my list. Why just this week I learned that a girl has a crush on our oldest. And he is just thrilled that I have that intel. I can tell.

The year of At-Home Jan. Get ready.

The Van of Enlightenment

It’s taken me just under ten years but I have figured it out.

Cracked the code.

Uncovered the secret.

Distilled the formula.

Want to know what your son is thinking? Interested in his school life? Curious about his peer dynamics? Or just wondering what he really thinks about that girl Paige in his class? (she’s the worst, by the way).

Here’s the answer. And it’s foolproof.

Drive the van.

That’s it.

Load up the van with him and a bunch of his friends and drive them somewhere. The destination doesn’t matter, but try for something fifteen minutes away, minimum.

And drive. Just drive. Don’t pepper them with questions, don’t insert yourself into the conversation and do not make eye contact. Pretend you are on a safari observing animals in their natural habitat (but don’t take notes, because they will see that and wonder why you pulled over. Same goes for whispering recordings into your phone).

The information you will gather by listening in (it’s not eavesdropping if they forget you can hear them) is astounding. Here’s a recent sampling, in case you doubt my methods:

Josh thinks he’s so great at soccer, but really, he isn’t.

Someone needs to tell Julia to settle down – everyone knows she’s loud just to get attention.

Adam claims he got to level K in math drills, but he totally didn’t. Liar.

Ryan is so mean that they’d like to take a power washer to him and wouldn’t even feel bad about it.

There are also some epiphanies which give you a peek into alternative parenting choices. For instance, one boy piped up with incredulity, “Wait, you can ride your bike on the street? Such freedom.”

You might be tempted to jump in and ask some follow up questions, but play it cool. Stay in the shadows. That time will come later.

It can be challenging to listen and not reply, but it’s worth it. You might want to chime in that maybe Julia feels insecure and is looking for a safe circle to be herself. Squash the urge to point out that maybe life is hard for Ryan and that’s why he acts out. Perhaps Josh doesn’t feel good about himself so he shows off the skill he is most proud of.

There will be opportunities for those conversations, but for now, just listen.

Drive the van.

Watermelon Wasteland

Once there was a tired mom who groggily dragged herself downstairs. All poor mom wanted was a cup of coffee. She could almost taste it.

But instead of a hot cup of joe, this mom was greeted by devastation.

A giant watermelon that was awaiting consumption decided nighttime would be the right time to give up all hope. This depressed watermelon sprung a leak and all its insides had oozed out onto the table.

The carnage was not limited to the table. One of the mom’s sons had created pottery with air-dry clay. The fish and bowl were the first victims, reduced to soggy bits of sadness.

Next in line was the chair and wall. Although watermelons are mostly water, there is a high sugar component. Sticky watermelon intestine juice removal is not a simple task. And it stinks.

Clean up was swift and efficient, despite lack of help.

Poor mom was heckled with unnecessary observations from her offspring about the “grossness” and the condition of the pottery. But no one offered to hold the garbage bag for her. Weird.

The final victim of this culinary savagery was mom’s sanity. Because coffee.

Production has already begun on the sequel, “Mango Mayhem”.