Believing

The Christmas season is upon us and like every year so many things have come up that have prevented us from saving for it, dog incidents here, unexpected landscaping there. We get into this rut every year, never getting each other a gift under the tree. We had such high expectations for this year but it’s one of those 2 steps, 1 step kind of situations. We always ensure that there are at least 2 presents under the tree for Isabella: one from us, and one from Santa. The Santa one is important to me, letting her have that magical belief one more year. We play along, writing a thank you note for the foccacia bread she left for Santa saying that Tanker came out and shared it with him (something he really would do). One year later and she smiles ear to ear when she talks about the note. They only believe for a small percentage of their lives so why not encourage it as long as we can?

Kissing Boo Boo's

When you’re 5 years old a kiss on a scrape can be a miracle cure. It’s only a matter of time before kisses from mom no longer work, but can that miracle cure really come back in your adulthood? My answer is yes, and as a matter of fact it’s completely reversed. On my most painful days when the thought of having to stand up from sitting is cry worthy I feel a small sense of relief when Isabella offers to hold my hand and “help” me stand up, or help me walk down the hall. I can’t say whether I really feel better, or if I’m just humbled by how caring she is? Whatever the reason the pain seems to ease that little bit when she does this. I don’t feel the need to cry when she offers a hug to help me feel better. It’s quite incredible really, how one year I’m kissing her scraped knee and the next she’s taking care of me. I like to brag all the time how great I am as a parent and how Isabella is such a good kid, but she’s so much more than that.

TLA (Three Letter Acronyms)

Today Isabella pulled a little purple card out of her backpack, a cute little thing with a nice happy face on it. When I asked her if she made it today she told me that a girl named Lily in her class had made it for her. “She’s my BFF... that means Best Friend Forever.” Wow. This is a 5 year old talking like that. It was in that moment the generation gap really hit me. While I was in the back yard making leaf houses at the age of 5, Isabella is using terms like BFF and talking in acronyms. I’m not concerned, but it seems odd to hear those words come out of a 5 year olds mouth. It really makes me think about how I want to educate her on social graces, if you will. I have heard kids saying things like “pics” which drives me nuts, the word is pictures and it really isn’t that hard to say. I know kids are quite different when they are around their friends versus parents but I think it’s all about finding a balance and about compromise. All I know is we are in for a very exciting future with her.

Parents who don't parent

Am I the only one who gets annoyed by other people's children? Surely I can't be. There's just something so incredibly annoying about kids who don't listen, or maybe it's the parents who don't parent. With Isabella in school, soccer, and dance we are always around kids, some are great, respectful, nice, well behaved and then it seems like there are even more of the opposite. These kids are rude, selfish, disrespectful little brats. These kids don't listen to the teacher, dance instructor, or coach over and over and the parents don't do a damn thing. Can you not see that your kid is completely disrupting the class/practice? To me this is unacceptable, and in my eyes you are failing as a parent. While I'm a firm believer in spanking, these kids clearly have no form of discipline. There are no boundaries, and no consequences for their actions. I may not be perfect but I must be doing something right if I have been told how great my kid is by her teacher, her coach, and her dance instructor. Apparently she is the best listener, she is respectful, she never does anything that she's not supposed to, and she's always happy. 

Part 9 - Loss, not lost

This past weekend my little family ventured out to Campbell River. Just for two days, but an adventure none the less. On our way home we drove right on past the Naniamo ferry terminal and kept on going until we hit Victoria. We stopped at the Royal Oak Memorial Park where we searched and searched through stone after stone, until we found the right one. For the first time I was standing at my Grandmother and Uncle’s headstone. It only took seconds before I was overcome with emotions. All at once I was sad, proud, and honoured to be a part of such a strong family. The dates are what hit me first. Eddie was only 8 years old when he drowned while on a family vacation in Saanich. 6 months later Nelda learned she was expecting baby number 6. Only 10 months after Marie was born Nelda passed away a few days after her 35^th birthday from stomach cancer. In less than 2 years my dad and his siblings had lost their oldest brother and their mother; my grandpa - his son and wife. I cannot even begin to imagine that kind of loss in such a short time, the strength that this family has is astounding. I felt a wave of pride as I thought of what Nelda would think now of her children, her grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. As I stood there looking at their little stone I thought about my aunts and uncles, about the legacy that she left behind. I can only hope that one day when I'm old and grey haired I can look back on my own life and family and be as proud of them as I felt she would be of hers today.

Part 8 - Doing it different

A friend asked me how my arthritis has affected my parenting and I had to think about it. There was certainly more of an affect early on as opposed to now. When Isabella was a baby we did things a little different, we did the partial cry-it-out method, not letting her cry in her crib for more than 5 minutes straight. I couldn't pick her up and put her down over and over so I just didn't. It only took a few nights of this before she slept straight through. I changed the crib to a daybed when she was only 18 months because I simply couldn't lift her out anymore; she seemed to stay in her bed all night so no issues there. I couldn't push a stroller past the age of 2 so that’s when she started walking everywhere. She never complained about being too tired to walk so we didn't have any issues there either. When I’m sore now we tend to watch a lot of movies together, or read books, or other things that aren't physically demanding. I like to give my two cents when people ask for advice but a lot of my parenting decisions are based on my own physical health. I have to remember this when I see 3 and 4 year old's in cribs and strollers. I haven’t used those in years but that was out of necessity, and while it's hard not to judge I find myself comparing my kid to others all the time. This is something I definitely have to work on.