"Let's move to Nice World"

It's pretty amazing the shining moments we stumble on out of the blue.

Yesterday was a rough day. And that's an understatement. The kids were fighting with each other and with me, they were taking turns having spoiled brat moments which is particularly hard to take as I try to create a warm, happy, meaningful Christmas Spirit in our family home. Needless to say I was both discouraged and at my wits end when we sat down to dinner.

Out of the blue, my five year old son looks at me and says "Mommy, I wish we could move to Nice World." I looked at him and asked him what he meant. He answered "Nice World - the place where everyone is nice to each other and loves each other." (Heart strings were starting to tug right about now...) I said, "That sounds like a really good idea, but even better would be to turn our world into Nice World." Then my nine year old pipes up "Well, what would we do about all the wars and rebellions (StarWars speak) going on in the world?"

And the moment just fell in my lap. I explained how there wasn't much we could do about the big wide world, but it was our job to make our little corner of the world the best it can be, starting with our family. One by one the kids piped up ways to make our little world better - not fighting, sharing, helping, recycling, giving stuff to poor people, giving hugs - it was this sparkling little family moment where the kids (and I) got the message of peace and love that is Christmas. And we were unanimous in our decision to try to make our home a little piece of "Nice World".

Now, I'm not saying the kids have been perfect angels since, but the day certainly ended alot better than it started yesterday. And I am left with renewed energy and optimism that I can and will raise these kids to be thoughtful people and caring citizens -and that the message of Christmas remains meaningful and true.

First Snow!

We had our first real snow of the season yesterday - just enough to cover the grass and not melt away, but not enough to make this smiling guy. Given the typical weather patterns for this region, those days aren't far away though.

My kids got up like any other morning yesterday, tousled hair, wrinkled pajamas, big yawns, stumbling down to the kitchen still half asleep. Except for my five year old - he bounces out of bed with energy to spare and is ready to charge into the day full tilt. It being a day away from December, the sun takes its time getting up in the morning so it was still close to dark when the kids came downstairs.

Then came the moment when the day was bright enough to see outside and one of the kids noticed the white stuff. He took up the excited call -Snow! Snow! SNOW! and within microseconds all four children were bouncing around infront of the window full of energy and excitement and joy at seeing the beautiful fluffy snow.

Of course they started making plans - snow forts and snowmen and snow angels and "can we go out right now!" - um no dears, a) you're in your pjs, b) you haven't had breakfast and c) the school bus comes in forty five minutes. I didn't even bother to mention that there was hardly enough snow on the ground for a snowball let alone the stuff they were planning.

Its a bit of recurring theme for me, but I love having kids in my life because I get to see the world through the fresh eyes of a child. Snow still is something wonderful and exciting for them and its hard for that enthusiasm not to rub off on me.

So bring on the snow! Enough for snowmen, and snowforts, for skiing and toboganning, enough for all those memorable childhood moments...I'm ready to embrace the season once again, and promise not to whine about the weather... at least until January. And I'll keep the hotchocolate at the ready to warm up those icicles I call my kids when they come in from their adventures in the Snow.

Exuberance!

My daughter is in that bewitching age between toddler and preschooler. She has almost limitless energy and enthusiasm for life... until she collapses exhausted into her pillow and recharges her battery with deep and peaceful sleep. To my daughter life is full to the brim of new experiences, new challenges, new joys, new frustrations and every feeling she experiences sits there on her sleeve, to be seen by all.

I love this girl so fiercely and feel SO blessed that she is in my life. There is no sweeter moment than when she spontaneously throws her arms around my neck and wants to be scooped up into a big hug. These moments are fleeting - most often as quickly as she comes in for a hug she is wriggling out of my arms, like a little silver fish, ready to run headfirst into the next adventure of the day.

But every evening I get a blissful little moment - after the baths and the pjs and the teeth are brushed, after the stories and saying goodnight to her brothers and her daddy, after the stuffies are all lined up in her crib and her blankies are fluffed, my daughter grabs her favourite raggedy old blanket, crawls up into my lap, snuggles her head under my chin, wraps her arms around me and is ready for her song. She pretends to sleep, lightly closing her eyes, but inevitably peeking briefly up at me as she snuggles in closer and listens to her song. Its a rambling silly little made up song, no proper meter or rhyme, but a common refrain everynight - "I love my L----, I love L-----, I love my L----, I love her very much." And then a rambling set of verses made up on the spot, running down the days highlights and fun little moments, before it ends with "Goodnight my L-----, good night L------. Good night my L-------, I love you very much." This song will never win an award, never be recorded, never get a wider audience, but my audience of one loves this moment, never lets a bedtime go by without her song and guarantees me the sweetest moment of my day. Which makes it a number one hit in my book.

Paths not taken

I love my kids. And I love my life. But recently I had the opportunity to step out of my day to day life for 12 days. I went off to Europe, and though I was surrounded by family at all stages I was "free", so to speak, of my motherly responsibilities. I travelled with my dad, his wife, my brother, niece and two sisters. It was a fascinating trip and one I'm sure I'll blog about at another time.

But back to leaving my life behind for a few days. After the initial feeling of losing an appendage and that subconscious panic of "where did I leave the kids" subsided I was seriously shocked at how easy it was to just be responsible for me. I was lucky because my husband took time off work to be there full time for the kids, so I did not have any of those anxieties a mother faces when she has to leave her kids for a period of time. They were home, they were safe, they were loved, and they were going to have a BLAST with Daddy!

For 12 days I didn't have to plan menus, wash clothes, referee arguments, entertain, educate and chauffeur. Of course, that mothering instinct could not be squelched completely and I found myself making lunches, pouring water bottles and doing other little things for the adults in my group. And when my 11 year old niece gave me a hug or needed help combing her hair it was a moment of motherly bliss.

For 12 days I learned about history, art, music, architecture and my family history. For 12 days I saw new places, ate new foods, walked in silence along beautiful beaches and walking paths, had "grown up" conversations, ate in peace without cutting up anyones meat or buttering anyone's bread, and had plenty of time to contemplate, daydream and enjoy the view as we travelled from place to place. It was a fabulous time.

By the time we flew home I was a bundle of nerves, so excited to see my husband and kids again. That initial reunion was so sweet and joyful, the hugs and kisses and shiny happy faces don't need photographs to be remembered. Snuggling with my kids, reading to them, tucking them into bed all came very easily to me and were cherished even more after that looonnnng absence.

But I was really surprised how hard it was to get back into my "job". Snuggling, hugging and giggling with my kids was one thing, but getting back into the refereeing, disciplining, teaching, entertaining, planning, organizing, and the constant demands on my time and attention was much more difficult than I expected. And quite frankly made me feel a bit guilty!

I imagine its how most people feel on return to work from vacation. I remember from my days in my career how stressful those first post-vacation days at work were - catching up on paperwork, putting out fires, getting back into the swing of things. And I guess that's what I'm going through now in my career as "mother".

As a mother of young children I have had to subjugate many of my own interests and desires to my family's needs. Accepting this subjugation has proceeded slowly but steadily from those first days as a mother of one little infant to my life now with four busy, happy kids. Being given a break from this for a few days was a double edged gift. It was a fantastic opportunity, but it also brought to the forefront how much I've given up in my decision to be a full time mother. I wouldn't change my decision or my life for anything, but I've got this spark of an idea now, that as my hands on mothering role diminishes as my kids get older and become more independent, I'll find lots of ways to fill that gap. I've always been a little afraid of that empty nest phase, but from this little time away I have a sense that I've got some exciting and fulfilling days ahead of me.

But for now, I'll remain content (most days!) in being Mom and together with my dedicated and loving husband; helping these four little people have the most enriching, loving and fun childhood that we are capable of giving them.

The future looks pretty good though....

Mother Memories....

My mother passed away almost seven years ago now. When I do the math I am almost in disbelief. Seven years ALREADY? ONLY seven years? Depending on where I'm at in my head her death seems so remote, so ancient and at other times so fresh and raw.

She was diagnosed with cancer when my first born son was about 6 months old and died about 26 months later when my second born son was about 6 months old. Those years are a blur. The combination of watching new life grow and flourish juxtaposed against watching "old" (my mom was still quite young by todays standards, diagnosed at age 67) life struggle to overcome a terrible disease created some magical and some brutal moments. I gave birth to my second son almost exactly one month before my mother became debilitated by brain metasteses and her active dying process began. My baby boy was such a blessing. Even when my mother could no longer talk and it was difficult to tell how much she was taking in, her face would light up in a joyful smile when my baby was held close to her.

My mother was the strongest person I have ever known. Of course I wasn't aware of that when I could have told her, it was just dawning on me as we travelled her cancer road and my "new mother" road together. Sounds foolish doesn't it? How could I not have known she was a strong woman as I watched her fight her cancer? But much of that knowing needed to percolate through my own life experiences. I look back on my childhood with a very different lens now that I am *almost* in my mother's shoes. I say *almost* because she was so much more of a hard worker than me, so much better at organizing her time, saving her money, staying disciplined, running a tight ship so to speak. She preserved the aura of a stay at home mother while working at various jobs. She worked as a teachers aide in a special needs classroom. She worked in a preschool. She worked nights at a nursing home at one point. I was 9 then. She would see me off to school, then I imagine she slept for awhile but she was always awake when I came home for lunch. Yes. Lunch. From the egocentric perspective of a child I never thought about what a big thing this was. I honestly don't know when she slept in those months working at the nursing home.

My mom was the strictest mom around. She was definitely human! She would lose her patience, she had high standards for behaviour, for neatness, for punctuality. She took excellent care of us, but rarely let her hair down to play with us. I do remember her hugs and her singing, she sang many different children's folks songs and always woke me up with a song as a child. I also remember her doing her calisthenics with the assistance of a record she had - I remember a smooth voice explaining what to do, counting the reps, the odd little pop and scratch as the record turned. I'd get down beside her and try to copy her and I remember her laughing and smiling with me. I remember her baking millions of varieties of Christmas cookies, and she had special cookies for Easter, and for all the "hallmark" holidays like Valentines, Halloween etc. She helped us come up with fun but economical costumes, using stuff we had at home instead of buying us the covetted plastic drug store batmans and princesses. I remember her baking us cakes from scratch for our birthdays while we eyed the boxed cakes with jars of icing with longing. As a teenager I remember canoeing with her on the lake at the cottage and sitting with her in the shade while I read a book and she did her knitting. She would always get up earlier than us and be sitting outside enjoying a morning cup of coffee (I can totally relate to that now!) I also remember her folding and mending and ironing clothes, knitting and crocheting while we watched tv together. Her hands were never still. My mother was the hardest worker I have ever met.

I think I understand her more and more as I experience being a parent of four kids. (I have three siblings). I can relate to her frustration at just wanting to get SOMEthing, ONE thing done without interruption. I can see why she kept shooing us out of the kitchen - its SO much quicker and easier to work alone than with four little "helpers". I can see how she must have felt when she resorted to yelling at us - I go crazy inside when my kids ignore me! I understand the millions of directions she was pulled and I understand how she really really did the best she could for us and worked so hard to give us special childhood memories.

I miss my mom deeply and it really stinks that as I learn to understand my mother more I can't call her up and tell her how much I appreciate her and how much she sacrificed for us. In a few days I'll be walking the same streets she did as a child, I'll be able to touch the stone banisters she talked about sitting on out front of her childhood house, I'll be able to walk in the forest she walked in with her parents as a child and I'll be able to stand in front of the school doors she entered every day. I am really looking forward to this chance to feel a physical connection to her again.

I wish I could have had longer with my mother, been able to make more memories with her as she watched her grandchildren grow, but I will hold the memories I do have of her close to my heart and though I can't tell her personally, I will tell everyone I meet that my mother was the best mother she could be and was the strongest, most hardworking woman I will every have the privilege of knowing.

Rest and Relaxation

When's the last time you had a nice long nap in the middle of the afternoon, resting between cool, crisp sheets, not having to keep one ear out for the goings on of the house, just some pure and simple R and R?

Sigh... I can't remember either.

As I was doing my dishes this morning our neighbourhood cat came and sat on our porch railing and had himself some R and R. He's actually the neighbour's cat, but he seems to have adopted the entire neighbourhood as his own. When the door is open he will march into the house, stroll about, say hello and march back out again. He loves to come play in the yard when the kids are out there or when someone's working in the garden. I've never met such a sociable cat!

He also loves being a hunter and spends his nights imagining he's a cougar in the wild or a lion on the savannah, creeping and pouncing about. But in the morning, usually around 7 am, he'll come hop onto our porch railing, curl up with his back against the post and have himself a good restful snooze. He always looks like he's smiling during these naps.

I'd be smiling too.

Leaving on a Jet Plane....

I'm leaving soon for a big trip. It's big in many ways. I'm flying to Germany. I'm travelling with my Dad and siblings, something I haven't done since I was 16 years old. And I'm leaving my husband and kids behind.

I'm looking forward to the adventure. My dad is going to tour us around and show us the town where my mother was born, where he was born, where they lived during the war; basically a family history trip.

My anxiety is building about leaving my family behind though. My husband is fantastic and will do a great job taking care of everything while I'm gone. In many ways he'd make a better stay home parent than me - he's excellent at getting the kids involved in the mundane daily chores and making it fun. And I've left my kids before, so its not the first time I'll be apart from them or anything. But this is the first time I'm leaving BOTH my husband and kids for longer than a weekend AND going so far away.

I think it'll be good for all of us. My husband, who already appreciates me, will have an even better understanding of my life, my kids will have a great time with their dad and will miss me just a bit I'm sure, and I will have the chance to do something completely out of my ordinary routine. Of course I'm leaving one family and joining another so its not like a real solo trip, but I think it'll be a great experience.

One thing though... though I love them to death and wouldn't trade them for anything, the family I was born into is a little bit more complicated than the family I created... so wish me luck that everyone gets along and plays nice while we tour around the country together. :-)