How to Heal a Broken Wing
Author: jill
•6:10 PM
Sometimes people have a knack for choosing books. You know what I mean, right? The person chooses a book that is always interesting or grabs your attention for some reason. And that same person always orders something in a restaurant that looks better than what you ordered, don't they? In reality, it probably just means that you and that person are like-minded, and you enjoy the same things.

Caiden is this person for me.

One day, earlier this month, he brought home a book from the school library called, How to Heal a Broken Wing, by Bob Graham (2008). To be honest, I'm not really sure why he chose this book because it is actually for a much younger child. I suspect he was attracted to the picture on the front. Or the teacher announced it was time to go and he picked the book closest to him. For whatever reason, this book made its way to me. And Addison.

It is the story of a little boy who notices an injured bird on a busy city street, and he brings it home to nurse it back to health. Nothing extraordinary about that ... sounds like a typical story for a child. What attracted me to this book is that the story is told with use of pictures instead of words ... well, there are some words, but not very many.

When I "read" it with Addie C. at bedtime, a wonderful thing happened .... she told me the story. We followed the pictures along, and she told me what happened to the little birdie and the little boy. It was great to hear her perspective ... not that we don't hear her perspective on every single thing, every single day ... but this was different. It was her interpretation ... which, if you really listen to your children, can be fascinating. It can give you a peek into the person they are, and hopefully you will like what you see.

Pick up a picture book for your child some time ... it could be the best thing you ever "read" together.

Click here to learn about another one of the books Caiden introduced me to.
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What I Have Been Afraid Of ...
Author: jill
•10:25 PM
Originally written in Oct/10, but not posted until now.

This has been a crazy week. In fact, the last six weeks have been crazy for me. It has taken some adjustment (by everyone) to get used to the idea of Jill Jones, University Student.

This past week I had one midterm, one quiz, and two essays due. So today, after I handed in the last essay, I decided that Addie C. and I should go out for lunch. To McDonald's, of course ... her favourite.

While we were eating, I asked her about school.

"So, Addie," I chatted, "are you still learning about apples at school?"

"Nope, that's all done now," she explained.

"Oh, I bet you'll talk about leaves soon," I told her, feeling fairly confident since I have been through the JK curriculum twice recently.

"Yeah, Mommy, we already do that," Addie told me. "It's called Fall."

"Oh, pardon me," I said. "I didn't realize you were so smart. I wonder if you'll go on a nature walk this year." I was sort of talking to myself, wondering if I could somehow swing tagging along as a parental helper.

"We already did that tomorrow," she informed me. Addie C. gets her "esterdays" mixed up with her tomorrows sometimes. "And me and Simone were partners. So we shared a bag and we go alot of leaves, too."

What? How could I not know about this?

This is what I have been afraid of.

There are things going on in my little girl's life that I don't know about. That I am not involved in. It's what I have been afraid of, and I was heartbroken.

When Caiden and Marnie were in JK, I dropped them off every day and picked them up every day. I talked to their teachers every day; I knew what was happening in the classrooms; I knew who was naughty and who was nice; and occasionally, I did things with the class.

But now, I am doing things in my own classroom. With my own classmates. It feels great being out there, back in the world, talking to people, learning new things. But sometimes I feel like I am missing out on the stuff with my own kids. Like the effortless chatter when they come through the door after school.

But I cannot just sit at home, in case something interesting happens at school, right? Or wait around with the hopes that I might get the chanve to help out on a nature walk. That would be crazy ... 

But still, this is what I have been afraid of ...
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Top 10 Reasons I'm Glad School is Back in Session
Author: jill
•8:48 PM
In September 2006, I brought my oldest child to a strange building full of strange people and left him there ... to find his own way in the world. I was filled such apprehension and anxiety ... I think, because I wanted him to love school so much. Like I did/do. And I wanted him to dazzle the strangers, just like has dazzled his father and I. I ached for him while he was away; he was constantly in my thoughts, hoping he was able to manage without me to help guide him. Pretty pathetic, huh?

Let me assure you, I have changed since those early days. In fact, I have twice the number of years of parenting excellence since then. And, I have a much different perspective.

Today was the first day of school for two of my three children. Number three came along for the ride, so she could check out her classroom and officially meet her JK teacher. Excitement abounded as we approached the school this morning ... oh, and the kids were pretty pumped, too.

It wasn't until the early 1800s that public education began to form in Canada. Prior to that, each family was responsible for educating their own children. Can you imagine the collective scream of joy on the day all the kids went to the first school? Woo-hoo!!

Although we each have our own reasons, I thought I would share the reasons I love school so much ...

(10) I get use the bathroom in private, without someone knocking on the door. Whether I am in there for two minutes or thirty, over the summer months it was a rare occasion if there was not a knock on the door ... usually because somebody wanted "something" (see #6).

(9) I can actually finish what I start ... all in a row, without interruptions. Many posts throughout the summer have been written one sentence at a time; but now, here I sit, typing away ... sentence after sentence.

(8) The quiet. I now hear the breeze through the trees, the hum of my laptop. Not that I don't love the sound of all those giggles, but I have listened to them for nine weeks in a row and am now taking some pleasure in the breeze outside my window.

(7) I don't have to watch Hannah Montana or The Wizards of Waverly Place until after five o'clock each day. Or, the Jonas Brothers. Ugh. I am sure they are all nice kids and stuff, but ... Plus, I know all the words to their songs and I'm starting to laugh at their jokes ... this is troublesome for me.

(6) The number of times that I hear, "Mom, can I (insert most annoying thing your child asks for here) ..." will be greatly reduced. Between the three of them, it seems as though they are at me most of the day for food, drinks, or suggesting fun activities ... like painting (a favourite amongst all girls, I think) or going to the park/beach/grandparents.

(5) My sense of guilt will decrease greatly ... guilt over being a boring Mom. It has been difficult to entertain three kids, all at different stages of development, each with their own interests. And, frankly, a mom's energy level diminishes over the course of the summer ... at least this mom's energy level does.

(4) Stuff that I organize will actually stay organized for longer periods of time. That right, toys will stay in their places and clothes will remain on their hangers in the closet.

(3) I don't have to eat at specific times. If I don't feel like eating lunch until 1:30pm, I can get all crazy and eat my lunch at 1:30pm! Breakfast and supper, however, will remain on schedule ...

(2) Speaking of schedules, I get to have a structure to my day ... which I love. I'll admit that it was harder and harder to jump out of bed (ready to take on the day) as the summer holidays drew to an end. But now, I'm back on track with time-specific goals that must be met!

(1) And, the #1 reason that I am glad it's back-to-school time, is the smiles that greet me at the end of the day. The smiles that assure me friends were played with, new things were learned. And when they can hardly wait to tell you about something really cool that happened at school ... I love when that happens, too.

So, I have my quiet back and I enjoyed a guilt-free coffee this morning. But between you and me, the real reason I am so happy school is back in session is because, if the kids are all back in school, it also means it is time for Mommy to go back to school.

Two days until my first day of school ... but who's counting?
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Addie C. Jones and her New Purple Kiki
Author: jill
•8:46 AM
Did you have one when you were little? A blankie, that is?

Mine was pink and it was made of that waffle material. It was so soft and I loved it, a lot. I did not give it up until I was (at least) six years old and certainly not until I was shamed into doing so. Even then I kept it hidden in my closet because I just could not say good-bye. I wonder what ever happened to it?

Addie C. has a blankie, too. And she has loved it to pieces. Literally.

It once was a beautiful shade of pale purple. Now, it is a disgusting shade of dark gray. And it is in rags. Don't worry, I'll tell you what happened to it.

When she was a newborn, Grama Jones made a soft fluffy pink blankie for Addie. And although Addie C. could not tell us if she loved it or not, I loved it so much that Grama Jones bought me a kit and I made her a soft, fluffy purple blankie.

As she grew a little older, and could make some decisions of her own, Addie always chose the purple blankie.

"Popo kiki," she would squeal and point. "Popo kiki!"

And so, the fluffy, purple blankie became known by all as "Purple Kiki." I'm beginning to think she will never leave.

Purple Kiki goes everywhere with us. To the park. To the grocery store. To visit Grama Jones. To drive the big kids to school. Camping with Nana. She even tried to bring it to the beach, but sometimes a mom must enforce some rules. And don't worry ... I'm not one of the completely ridiculous parents who lets their four-year-old drag their blankie through the store. Purple Kiki must stay in the van ... mostly because I would die a thousand deaths if anyone ever saw it! However, in some strange I way I also cherish her and it seems that Purple Kiki has become the sixth member of our family.

Addie C. Jones also likes to suck her thumb. I know ... but there is nothing I can do about it. The more I make of it, the more she wants to suck for comfort - 'cause she feels bad. So I don't even mention it. But, when Addie C. was little(r), I did notice that she likes to grip the blankie in her little hand while she sucks that thumb.

Each night I would lay Purple Kiki across her, the straight edge tucked under her little chin, and watch as she snuggled in. Until one night ...

"No, Mommy," Addie C. Jones explained. "I want a corn."

"Corn? What?" I am searching for answers. "I don't know what you mean, Addie." Let's face it, we're never sure what Addie C. means.

"No. I want the corn of my kiki. Like dis." She begins to turn her blankie until she finds the corner, and I am enlightened. But what you should know, is that there are only two corns which can be snuggled under her nose while she sucks to sleep. The other two are not worthy.

What makes them worthy? I have no idea but I suspect that it has to do with some (disgusting) smell. Because two of the corns are a slightly darker shade of grey than the others. But maybe I'm just being judgmental.

Ugh.

One day, last Fall I came home to find that Addie C. had taken a pair scissors from the craft room and cut slices into one side of Purple Kiki. Now, let me assure you that the way in which I handled this very delicate situation was completely wrong. I should have said, "Oh, well. I guess you don't need Purple Kiki any more. Let's put her in the garbage together." Good riddance.

But no, I think with my heart, remember? And often, the filter in my brain is switched to off, so instead, it goes a little something like this ...

"Oh, Addie. Poor Purple Kiki, you cut her," I say, feeling a loss for this blankie that has been so important to her. But also, attaching human-like sentiment to this inanimate object.

"Oh, Mommy," Addie wails, "can you fix her? Puulllleeeaase ... I love her. Sew her together. Ahhhhhhh..." (imagine many tears dripping down a little girl's face).

"I don't know if I can Addison," I answer, and here comes the really, really bad part. "Maybe Mommy can sew you a new one."

She stops crying, smiles, and screams, "Yeah!! New purple kiki! New purple kiki!" It is at this point that I realize I will never get rid of Purple Kiki. She will live with us forever.

Now, being the excellent parent that I am, I left this task as long as possible. After dealing with my own sense of loss, I kept thinking that she would just give up on it. If there was nothing to replace this "thing," perhaps she would just move on and no longer need a kiki. Or, maybe the nice, clean, soft pink one would become beloved. Plus, she is starting school soon, and she is always telling me that she is a big girl now. So, I kept figuring (which should be read "hoping") that Addie C. would wake up one day not caring about Purple Kiki anymore.

No such luck.

In fact, she cut Purple Kiki some more and essentially made a sleeping bag ... even more cozy than the original. But it is a disgrace and I'm pretty sure Purple Kiki might be health violation.

So, I made her a new one. It is fluffly and soft and it smells fabulous. Addie welcomed it with open arms. She carried Purple Kiki 2 around all day, the original being left in a heap somewhere.

So, on her first night with Purple Kiki 2, I crept into her bedroom to check on her with a little excitement, anxious to see the new kiki in use. There she was, in her bed, the angel that she is, wrapped up in ... in the original. What? Where did she come from?

Purple Kiki 2 has been left lying in a heap on the floor beside her bed.

The next morning I must investigate ...

"Addie, did you sleep with your new Purple Kiki?" I ask.

She looks a little uncomfortable. "No," she mumbles.

I ask her why not.

"It doesn't suck," Addie C. says.

"I know," I say. "It smells great, and it is pretty. No, it doesn't suck - that's for sure." I completely missed the point.

"No, it doesn't suck," she says, pulling at the corn as she sticks her thumb in her mouth.

Oh. It doesn't "suck." Hmmmm.... this is going to be a problem.

Over the last couple of weeks since Purple Kiki 2 entered the scene she has been elevated in status because Addie C. now allows her on the bed. In fact, for awhile, she was using it like a sheet. She needed some time to warm up, I guess. Maybe she felt like she was cheating on the original.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of attaching Purple Kiki 2 to the back of the lawnmower until it gets that real earthy, dirt smell that she seems to adore so much.

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Reluctantly Growing Up
Author: jill
•11:41 AM
Once, when I was fourteen years old, my Mom asked me to "hang out" my Grama. Actually, she didn't ask me to, she told me that I had to.  You see, Grama had had a stroke and was confined to a wheelchair; and although I didn't understand all the reasons, my Mom and my Grampa did not want to leave her alone for fear she might need help with something. So, they always made sure someone was with her.

On this particular day, my Grampa had some business to attend to and although my Mom had promised to spend some time with Grama, she had a conflict. So, she insisted on me going to stay with my Grama. But I didn't want to. I wanted to stay home and talk on the phone or go over to a friend's house or re-do my hair or whatever it is fourteen-year-old girls like to do. I can remember arguing with my mother and insisting that I should not have to do things like that ... like babysitting a grandparent, that is. It was really not up for discussion though, because the fact remained that my Mom and my Grampa felt that someone should be with Grama.

Thinking back, I wonder if she would have enjoyed an hour to herself, without someone "there." Because that is all it was ... just an hour out of my very important fourteen-year-old life. And if you were paying attention, you will note that I said, "once" since this was not something asked of me on a regular basis. But, my Grama knew what was up ...

So, I put on my best (fake) smile and spent some time with my Grama. Whom I truly did adore, by the way. Grama taught me a lesson that day - one that I will never forget. The minute my Mom shut the door to leave, Grama called me over and handed me a ten dollar bill.

"Grama, what is this for?" I asked.

"Well, no young girl should have to babysit her Grama," she explained. "So, I figured I'd make it worth your while. I'm sure you have better things to do ..."

I have never been so ashamed of myself ... or humbled. I tried to give the money back, but she wouldn't hear of it. For me it was tainted guilt money and I hated having to take it. Plus, in 1983, ten dollars was a lot of money for one hour of work!

But it tells me the kind of woman that she was ... she was unselfish and empathetic and she was cool. Furthermore, I think she was embarrassed that she might need help (from others) to manage through her day ... a fourteen-year-old, no less.

Ironically, she had lost her independence at the same time I was trying to gain (master) mine.

I read Life on a Refrigerator Door by Alice Kuipers a couple of weeks ago, but am just writing about it now. It is the story of Claire, a fifteen-year-old girl, whose mother is diagnosed with breast cancer. And Claire is trying to be grown-up, but at the same time she just wants to be taken care of. She is a typical teenager, except that her mother is dying; and now, she has to be the grown-up ... but she doesn't always want to be.

This is one of the most cleverly written books I have come across in a long time. It took me only a little over an hour to read it ... which is great when you are trying to read 100 books in a year. It is a series of notes written between Claire and her mother ... notes left on the fridge. We've all done that, haven't we?

As a reader, you are asked to fill in some of the blanks because not all the details are given. But it's easy to do ... because it is so well-written you feel like you know these people. Trust me, I was sobbing by the end of the story ... Caiden was a little concerned for me.

As a woman, you will relate to this story on two levels ... as a teenager, and as a Mom. And, I'm not sure which one is more difficult. Losing a parent as a teenager is so difficult ... and Claire is such a wonderful young lady that you cannot help but worry for her. You want her to be okay. As a parent, you are divided between your need to care for your child and the need to care for yourself ... and when fighting cancer, it is difficult to do either really well.

Alice Kuipers was born in London, England but moved to Saskatoon, Saskatchewan in 2003. She is married to Yann Martel, who you might know because he wrote the incredible Life of Pi ... such a great read!!! You have read it, right? Didn't you love the ending? So clever, so surprising, so incredibly good. I love a story that surprises me at the end. And you might be interested to know that Life of Pi is being made into a movie, slated for release in 2012.

Anyhow, there must be some real creative juices cookin' at their house!

Kuipers seems like the kind of girl you would like to hang out with ... just a down-to-earth girl who enjoys the same things you and I do. She has a young baby, whom it seems she is currently caught up in. Oh, and she has had another book published, Lost for Words.

Kuipers has a great blog that I love ... especially if you enjoy writing as a creative outlet. Check it out sometime ...
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Into the Future
Author: jill
•10:23 AM
Tonight, I had a glimpse. You know, a glimpse of what the future might be like. A glimpse of that feeling a mother gets when her child accomplishes something (really wonderful) all by themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I have experienced it ... but in a limited sort of way. Like, the time Marnie learned a new song school. A song that I did not know ... in French. And, as she sang it to Jonesy and I, we exchanged one of those "how-does-she-know-this?" looks. Or, today, when Caiden explained to me that people who have strokes often suffer from a "droop" on one side of their mouths ...

"Caiden, that is exactly what happens," I said. "How do you know that?" I am expecting him to say that he heard Nana talk about it, or he read about it on Wikipedia.

"I saw it on Family Guy," he explained. Ugh.

Okay, so maybe that was not a moment of parental pride.

But you know what I am talking about ... it's that feeling you get inside when your child does something all by him/herself.

The other night, we had a Big Boy movie night with Caiden while Marnie had a "vacation (from Addie)" at Nana's house. We watched The Karate Kid, starring Jaden Smith. It is so sweet, with a great message. In fact, I am no longer "allowed" to say that Jaden (or the female (adolescent) lead) is adorable; but between you and me, I wanted to hug and kiss them a whole bunch.

Essentially, it is the same story as the original, starring Ralph Macchio and Mr. Miyagi, but different and updated. Dre Parker (Jaden Smith) moves from Detroit, Michigan to China, with his mother. He is out of his element and finds himself being bullied by some local boys. The (apartment) building maintenance man (Jackie Chan) decides to teach Dre about the art of authentic kung fu. Jackie is sweet and patient and emotional ... as he teaches Dre the one thing that he has an appreciation for. Jaden Smith is adorable and cool and so likeable - but remember, I am not allowed to say that!

As he reached (inevitable) success, I could only think that one day, I would be watching as my children did the same. Maybe not in a kung fu tournament (please, not in a kung fu tournament), but success none the less. And the emotion that filled me as I watched this fictional character would only pale in comparison to the emotion I would feel when it is my own child, right?

It is some kind of weird mixture of pride and arrogance and self-satisfaction and separation. Because it is amazing when they learn something that you did not teach them, isn't it? I mean, how could they learn something if I did not teach it to them? I think this is part of my problem ... this strange idea that only I can teach them the things they need to know ...

You're beginning to feel sorry for my kids, aren't you?

I want all these things for my kids ... the independance, the knowledge, the "finding who they are." But I don't want to miss one second of it ... I really don't. I would feel like I was missing out on something absolutely incredible ... I would feel like I was missing out on them.

Maybe because I am looking to learn something about myself at the same time.

But I guess they must find their own way, and I have to find mine.

But what if we go in completely different directions?

This is the fear that I live with ... because then, I will be alone.

So, for now, I am going to enjoy teaching them the things I know because one day soon, they will be teaching me things they know. And, the things they can do.





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Addie C. Jones and the Re-Styled Pink Party Dress
Author: jill
•9:53 AM
I am currently reading a book in which the author confronts the idea that most of us do not enjoy what is happening right now. We wish we were younger. We wish our children would move on to the next (developmental) stage. We can't wait until the weekend or our week of vacation at the end of July. Why do we rush through the things we are doing? Why do we rush to get to the park? Why do we rush around doing errands on Saturdays? Why do we hurry and eat supper?

He says that we should enjoy the here and now.

Obviously, he has not lived with Addie C. Jones, or he would understand that the reason I rush through supper (on some days) is because it means that I am one step closer to bedtime. And the quiet.

When the kids get home from school, it gets a little chaotic on most days. Everyone is talking at the same time, about something different. Backpacks are unpacked, popsicles are chosen. Some go outside, some go to the computer, some go to the television.

But today, Addie C. just disappeared for a few minutes. This, of course, means trouble. Eventually, she turns up and decides to follow Marnie outside. However, as she is running by the kitchen, I notice that something just doesn't look right with her dress.

"Stop!" I call after her. Addie C. comes back to the kitchen.

"Yes, Mommy?" she asks. She sounds sweet, doesn't she? All innocent and everything.

"What is on your dress?" I ask her. "Can you show Mommy please?"

She smiles her biggest smile. She proudly shows off how she has taken a dark green marker and decorated the sash on her pretty pink party dress. Why is she wearing a pretty pink party dress on a regular Wednesday afternoon, you ask? Because this is Addie C. Jones and every day is a party for her.



So, I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the message from the book I am reading. I need to enjoy the here and now because she is not always going to be a very cute little four-year-old girl. Someday soon we will be arguing over make-up and skirts that are too short or shirts that too revealing or curfews. Plus, this particular dress is getting small and we didn't have any special parties planned that require a pretty pink dress.

Addie C. is very creative, don't you think? I mean, I bet there are times when you have wanted to change your pretty dress to make it an original ... change the colour, or add some kind of embellishment. Addie C. is not the type of girl to wear a dress "off the rack" because  - and I think we can all agree on this - Addie C. Jones is an original. 

Jonesy and I told her how pretty she looked and she smiled her biggest smile again. So proud of herself. Then, I took her picture.



The back door slammed as she ran outside to torture her older sister. Me? I went back to stirring my spaghetti sauce, counting the minutes until bedtime.
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No Right Answer
Author: jill
•10:57 AM
Recently there was a movie added to the OnDemand Movies feature of our Cable television. It is a movie that I do not have the strength to watch. I just don't need that kind of emotional stress in my life.

Last summer, my mother-in-law brought me My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult.

"Jill," she said, "I thought that you would really like this. Read it and tell me what you think."

So, I fondled it, as I like to do before reading and had a fleeting thought that this story might be a little too much for me to handle. Children who get cancer cannot make for a "feel-good" kind of story. But I wanted to read it anyway. Something about it drew me in ... the legal aspects, perhaps. Maybe I needed a good cry. Or the medical issues. Something.

By the time I got to the end of the book, I was an emotional wreck. I sobbed openly while reading the last couple of chapters, sending all my children into another room so that I could grieve in private. Poor Caiden had a (real) panic attack because he thought there was something really wrong with me. And I guess there was ... I had a broken heart.

In case you live in a cave and you have not heard about this story, I will give you a quick recap. Well, nothing is really "quick" about me but I'll try my best.

Kate is three years old when she is diagnosed with a grave form of cancer - leukemia, I think. The only hope is a perfect match as a donor; when Kate's older brother is disqualified, Kate's parents conceive another child in the hopes of producing a donor - which raises the first moral question.

Should people have babies to save other babies? I guess there are many reasons for a person to have a child. Maybe giving life to save a life isn't the worst reason ... but is it a good reason? I am sitting here, up on the fence, because I honestly don't know if there is a "right" answer to that question.

In the beginning, the only thing that was to be donated was the cord blood ... rich in platelets and other great stuff needed to fight off the cancer in Kate's blood. But as the years go by, little Anna becomes a human donor machine. It has been some time since I read this story, but if I can remember correctly Anna donated "stuff" to her sister several times; until it seemed as though if Kate had dry eyes, her mother would call Anna into the room and they would extract some tears from her.

The story really begins when Anna is eleven years old, and Kate is in need of a kidney. All of the other treatments she has endured have placed undue stress on her kidneys, and without a transplant she will die. But the decision has been made that Anna will provide the kidney. However, she does not want to be a donor for her sister any more so she hires herself an attorney in the hopes of winning medical emanicipation from her parents. She wants to be able to make the decisions regarding which medical treatments she will participate in.

The novel explores the legal questions/problems associated with this unprecedented situation ... as well as the moral/ethical issues. And don't forget about the impact on the rest of the family ... the ongoing illness as well as the impending legal decision. It really is a great read, if you can stand the emotional stress.

At the end of the story - and this is the part where I got a little hysterical - Anna wins emancipation; but only after she is forced to confess that it is Kate who does not want the treatments any longer. So, Anna is granted medical emancipation and she does not have to act as a donor for her sister. On her way from the Court House to the Hospital (in her lawyer's car) to tell her sister the news, they are struck and Anna is killed. That's right, she is declared brain dead in the ER.

But she is a candidate for organ donation.

So, in the end, she saves her sister's life and quite possibly, the lives of some other children. And we are left thinking that the sole purpose of this eleven-year-old child's life was to act as a supplier of bodily materials and parts. Little Anna took on the weight of the world in keeping her sister's secret and defying her mother's wishes, all the while knowing that her family was being pulled apart. But she did it for her sister ... just like she had done for her whole life.

My thoughts turned to Anna's mother. She is a desperate woman who cannot see past the goal of saving Kate. In fact, when Anna was born she admitted to herself that she was not interested in her new baby at all; but only in what she could give to her dying sister. It was as though she had created a "thing" instead of a person. A supplier. Kate's mother is blinded in her attempt to save her daughter; she cannot think in any terms other than saving Kate. Which I get. However, she lost all perspective with respect to what is in the best interests of everyone. Including Kate. I liken it to being in some sort of tunnel, where it is dark and small; and the light at the end is reached each time the current crisis is dealt with. Until the next hurdle, when the confining darkness descends and a solution must be found. I have felt this way before. Things are coming at you and all you can do react. Deal with each thing as it comes; but you lose perspective because you are too busy trying to come up with a quick fix. 

Don't we all understand the mother's desperation. I mean, if someone told me that one of my children was critically ill, I would do anything to save him/her. Anything. I would cut off my own arm, I would sell my soul, I would scream, I would beg, I would run around in a circle seventy-three times if I thought it would help. Anything. And, I am willing to bet that you feel exactly the same way that I do. When my Caiden was in the NICU, I would have done anything to help him. But all I could do was smother him with love ... which, luckily, I am very, very good at.

And, I also understand that knowing one of your children had something that could help another one of your children would be a huge influencing factor. If one of your daughter's had yellow shoes, and the other daughter needed yellow shoes, and they wore the same size, I would insist that the girls share their shoes. However, this was not sharing shoes. It was sharing DNA and organs. So, I understand this push (by the mother) to help but I don't know if I agree with it. It seems as though some of us need to always find a solution for the problem, no matter what it is. And finding the solution becomes more important than the actual impact of executing the solution. As a parent, I would need to know that I had thought of every possible way to fix the problem. I had done everything that I could to save my baby.

But poor little Anna grew up feeling as though she was nothing more than a donor. She was on hold until a part of her was needed for Kate. Did she feel loved by her mother?

There are children that have been born for the exact same reason as Anna. For real. And, how are they coping with their role in their family? Do they feel loved?

When my children ask me why I wanted a baby, I can give them all sorts of reasons. I had an inexplicable need to become a mother; I desperately wanted to experience pregnancy and giving birth; I wanted to snuggle a baby of my very own; I wanted to teach someone about the world; I wanted to be surrounded by a family of my very own. And, after I had my first baby, I wanted another one because the first one brought me a joy that I did not know existed. And I wanted a third one because if two brought me that much joy, imagine the delight I would experience from three little miracles.

However, I cannot imagine explaining to my child that I had it because I needed an organ donor.

But having said all that ... I can understand why parents might do it. Or consider it.

There is no right answer.

My Sister's Keeper (the movie) is OnDemand. But I don't think I can watch it. And so, even though it has almost been a year, these are my thoughts on this book.

I bet my mother-in-law is sorry she asked.

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Do You Know Why Reading is Important?
Author: jill
•9:08 PM
Last night, while eating supper, Caiden had a question. Caiden has many questions ... but that is another story for another day.

"Mom, do you know why reading is important?" he asked.

"No, I don't. Why don't you tell me," I answered him. I love to hear my kids' perspectives on the world.

"Well, it's important because you get to learn new words," he explained. "Like ... words you have never used before."

"That is very true," I agreed. "Reading can really help expand your vocabulary." He smiled, happy to have found something we agree upon - it is important to Caiden that we are like-minded.

I went on to tell him that when I was a child, I read all the time. And, because I read all the time, I was reading novels at an early age. But, sometimes, I did not know what the words meant; that is, there were times that I could not define specific words. However, I always got the gist. Caiden found this interesting.

"You mean, you didn't know what every word meant?" he asked. When we read together, he ALWAYS stops me if he has not heard the word before or is unsure of its meaning. Always. He is a perfectionist and an avid learner, and so he must always know the answer. This is not always a good thing.

"Nope."

"Well, how did you know what the story was about?" he wanted to know.

"Well, I would read the whole sentence or paragraph and come to an understanding of what the writer was trying to describe," I explained. There are many ways to learn and I think that I benefited greatly from developing the ability to get the gist. You do not have to understand every single word to understand the message or to get the point.

Caiden is eight years old and an extraordinary reader. He thinks that the other children in his class are pathetic readers, but what he doesn't understand is that there are many adults who do not read aloud as well as he does. He reads with inflection and emphasis ... I love listening to him.

So why does he insist on me reading to him each night? He doesn't need me to read his story anymore, and he doesn't need my help to learn to read. And yet, he insists that we read together each night.

In just about any situation, I have found that if you want to know the answer to a question, the best way to find out ... is to just ask. So I did. And do you know what he said? "Because I like to have time with only you and me. It's our special time, Mommy."

Now, you can't really argue with that, can you?

And, I love that he is articulate enough to put it into words - at the age of eight years old.

I recently read an article in the New York Times about the importance of reading with your child. And, as Caiden pointed out, it's not just to teach your child to read ... it is important for many different reasons.

The article tells the story of a single father, with two daughters, who just happens to be a Librarian. When his oldest daughter was in the 4th Grade, she announced that she no longer wanted to read with her Dad. Jim Brozina was heart-broken and became determined to find a way to keep his younger daughter, Kristen, interested in reading with him. So, when she entered into Grade 4, he came up with The Streak ... a challenge to read together for 100 bedtimes in a row. While celebrating their success over pancakes, Kristen suggested that they extend The Streak ... to 1000 nights. And, when they eventually met that goal, it seemed impossible to stop.

So, Jim Brozina and his daughter, Kristen, read together every single night from November 11, 1997 until September 2, 2006 - Kristen's first day of College. She has gone on to win National writing contests and has been accepted into the Masters in Liberal Arts program at the University of Pennsylvania. He continues to spread the good news about the importance of reading. To read the entire New York Times article, click here. It is a wonderful story.

The one thing that stands out in my mind, however, is that when everything else was crazy or unpredictable in her life, Kristen could alway count on The Streak. It was a constant. And sometimes, children need that reassurance. Let's be honest, we can all use some things in our lives that we can count on.

It is a really simple thing - reading each night - but it held such an importance in Brozina family. Such importance, in fact, that they each made many sacrifices to keep their nightly ritual.

So, when you read to your child each night, know that it is about more than just the reading part. They look forward to spending time with you. And they remember it as special time you spent together.

So, do you know why reading is important?
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The Grabby Lunch
Author: jill
•2:20 PM
On Sunday morning, we always have The Big Breakfast. It is a breakfast that is very big. Sometimes it is waffles and bacon; other times it freshly baked cinnamon buns and ham; freshly juiced fruits or fruit salad. Yesterday we had it all - eggs, peameal bacon, two kinds of toast, and some leftover grilled potatoes made excellent fried potatoes.

But it was not on the table until after nine o'clock. And when the first meal of the day was finished, we all agreed that our tummies were very full.

So, when the Noon hour arrived nobody was very hungry. Well, nobody except for Addie C. but she is always hungry, so we don't really take her opinion very seriously around here. I made an executive decision and declared it was a perfect day for the The Grabby Lunch.

I wish that I had come up the concept and the expression ... The Grabby Lunch. But I didn't ...Jonesy did. While I painstakingly try to create fun, interesting and new meals that everyone will eat and still maintain a high health quotient, he throws a bunch of different food items on the table, calls it The Grabby Lunch and becomes a culinary hero. But it is a great idea, so I jumped on board and make use of it all the time.

It is an hors d'oeuvres party for kids ... and it doubles as a meal. Make hors d'oeuvre size platters of food, and let your children pick what they want to eat. Choose all fingers foods that do not require a fork or spoon ... otherwise it is just too messy to be included in The Grabby Lunch. You have to be able to grab it and eat it. Things like cheese, lunch meat or leftover slices of meat, cubes of fruit, pickles, crackers, nacho chips, fresh vegies - they all work great. Yesterday I made a black bean dip and sometimes I use leftovers from the day/night before. Pizza cut into bite-sized pieces, chicken wings, whole baby roasted potatoes ... anything you like, as long as it is "grabby."

And, if it is planned ahead, you can include some things that your kids have never tried before ... like exotic cheeses, or tropical fruits, or a cracker other than Ritz. Why not use those fancy toothpicks? The kids will feel like they are at a party ... even if it is just a regular ol' rainy Sunday afternoon.

Place the platters on your coffee table and turn on a family movie. Your kids will think you are the coolest. Have a glass of wine or a fancy cocktail while the kids drink their juice boxes and sample Luneberg cheese from Austria. It is a great way to spend a couple of hours with the most important little people in your life.



My kids absolutely love The Grabby Lunch ... try it sometime.
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Loyal and With Purpose
Author: jill
•12:34 PM
Every year I wait, hoping it will happen again.

In the Spring of 2005, a family moved in with us ... just for a little while. A family of birds, that is. We watched as a pair of robins built their nest on our front window ledge ... way up high over the front door. Luckily for me - I mean, the kids - the nest was easy to see from inside the house. And so, we watched while they worked.

We watched as they came and went, returning proudly with each new treasure - a clump of grass, a trail of string. They were a skittish pair, fleeing from their nest whenever we happened near the front door. Especially the Daddy - he trusted nobody.

The activity around the nest settled into a quiet hush and one day there were three little blue eggs. I know this because I pulled over the table in our foyer to use as a ladder, so that I could peek inside. I did this so many times, Jonesy started to wonder about me. But, wouldn't you? Look at the eggs, I mean.

The Mama Bird would sit on those eggs ... loyal and with purpose. She was there day and night, rainy or sunshiney. She was there when I went to bed at night and she was the first one to greet me on my way down the stairs in the morning. And, if by chance, I was awakened in the middle of the night, because somebody had a scary dream, there she was, sitting on her eggs ... loyal and with purpose.

As time went on, things changed between the Mama bird and me. I talked to her. I know, it seems a little strange. I didn't tell her my darkest secrets or anything - I'm not crazy. I just greeted her with a "Hello, Mama" and told her what a great mommy she was. And soon, she never flew away when I was around. In fact, she watched me with the same interest I took in her. If Jonesy even looked at the foyer, she would leave her nest, keeping watch from the tree close by. But not me ... it seemed as though we had come to an agreement. Two mommies, looking after their babies. A commom kindred spirit.

So, there she sat for days and days, until one morning I noticed Daddy bringing some worms. A baby had arrived. I was lucky enough to actually watch one of the babies poke through the blue shell, watch as a life began. Soon there were three babies ... but they were not beauties. They were scrawny and pink and there were no feathers to be found. But I still loved them.

As the days went by, instead of being greeted by my Mama bird each morning, I was instead greeted by three little beaks poking over the top of the nest ... never satisfied. Mama and Papa frantically searched to find worms or bugs and whatever else would quiet those little beaks. And those same three little beaks were poking over the top of that nest if I was awakened in the middle of the night by somebody's bad dream. But Mama and Papa arrived routinely ... loyal and with purpose.

Soon there were three little round fluff balls poking over the top of the nest. And it became apparent, that their time to leave was approaching. My heart was heavy because I had come to adore each of them ... our little family of visitors. One morning, there was a great deal of activity on the front porch. Two of the three babies had taken that great leap of faith, while the third watched hesitantly from the nest. He tried to do it ... throw caution to the wind and take that big leap ... but eventually cowered back to the safety of the nest. Some are so hesitant to leave, aren't they? Mama and Papa had the two brave babies on our front lawn, trying to keep them safe until they found their wings. They were hopping and jumping, until finally the third baby joined them.

I watched the babies, flapping in their attempts ... their parents by their side ... loyal and with purpose. Finally, they hopped and jumped around the corner and were out of my sight.

My front porch felt quiet and lonely.

But, it was time to get lunch for my little ones. And so, I walked to the kitchen ... loyal and with purpose.
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Coming Out of the Closet
Author: jill
•10:45 AM
It's that time of year again. If you are a mother of young children, you know what I am talking about.

It's time to organize clothes and closets.

I despise this job.

There was a time when I found this job fun. Back when I only had Caiden. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Out with the heavy wintery clothes and in with the fresh, bright summery ones. All those cute little outfits that I could dress him in ... sigh.

But that time has gone.

The other point that begs to be made is that I only had to do it for one closet; and when I did do it, little Caiden was nowhere to be found. He did not care about his clothes. He is a boy. He was busy calculating or spinning or conquerring Mario. He could not care less about what is in his closet. 

However, Marnie and Addison are not boys, and they do care (a lot) about what is in their closets. And, they like to share their opinions. So, while I am making piles, they are going through those piles. And re-organizing.

And the worst part (for me) is that I feel like I just finished doing closets. Well, Addie C.'s closet to be more specific ... click here to read more. Every time I put clean laundry away, I take note that Addison has no t-shirts or summery dresses to choose from ... because they are all in a bin somewhere in the basement. And, Marnie's t-shirts are looking a little small. But still, I drag my feet, ignoring that faint whisper that can be heard every time I open a closet door.

"Out with the old ... in with the new ..."

There is a certain orderliness that must be maintained to make this dreaded chore expeditious. Caiden's closet is easy ... first or last. Whatever. But Addsion's must always be done before Marnie's closet. That way, there is room for the things that Marnie has outgrown; because sometimes, the things Marnie has outgrown will go directly into Addie's closet. Otherwise, they go into a drawer until they do fit.

Honestly, why am I telling you this? Why are you reading it?

I have searched the Internet for tips and tricks ... something that will make things easier. Even fun ... maybe? One lady reported that she did her daughter's closet every two months. What? Does she have no life? How fast does her child grow? Although, I bet it takes her a half an hour to get the whole thing done ... instead of two hours. Or two days. However, I refuse to budge ... twice a year is the most I can tolerate - once in the Spring, once in the Autumn.

Ugh. I guess the only way to make it go away, is to do it. Just do it. Just step away from the computer ... and lock yourself in the closet, Jill. Go ...
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The Woo-Hoo Girl Returns!
Author: jill
•2:06 PM
It is quiet once again at my house ... listen ... can you hear it? That 's right ... just the hum of the dryer and one Mommy sipping her latte. All school-aged Jones children have return to their classrooms after their  one-week March Break.

There is just one left ... one little princess, playing quietly ... not whining or crying or screaming at her brother/sister because her feelings have been hurt. Addison is often left out. Even though there is approximately two years between each child, Caiden and Marnie are only one year separated in school - because of the way their birthdays fall. Which makes them superior to little Addie in some way, apparently. They are learned in the ways of school, and she is just a baby. Or, that is what they try to tell her anyway.

But now (today), Addison has all the toys to herself ... and the television ... and the computer ... and the markers ... and the Mommy. So, really, who has the last laugh? Caiden or Marnie ... I think not.

Oh ... it is so hard having all three here for the whole day. It is overwhelming and very difficult. And, you know, I am ashamed to admit that ... I mean, they are my own children. The very children I dreamed of having. So, shouldn't I be able to handle them - all by myself? It is trying to take all three of them out ... in the world. I have done it ... I can do it. But it's not always pretty.

I think part of the issue is that they are not all interested in the same things anymore. There was a time, when Addie was just small I guess, that all three of them were interested in the same things - running through the sprinkler on a hot summer day, The Incredibles, colouring, baking with Mommy. But things have changed ... for instance, I was looking at the movie listings this past week, and I could not find one movie that I thought all three of them would like. Marnie is easiest because she would go see any movie, any time - princesses, racing cars, adventures, mysteries, whatever. As long as she gets a bucket of popcorn, she is happy and entertained. But the movies that interest my littlest princess, do not interest Caiden ... my little man. And, similarily, some of the activities that Addison would happily join in on, Caiden would have no interest in. For instance, if I had a momentary lapse in judgment, and allowed my kids in the Playland at McDonalds, Addie would be ecstatic; Caiden would have no interest. However, we all know that momentary lapse in judgment is not going to happen, so this is probably a bad example. But you get the idea, I hope.

My neighbours, who live across the street, have triplets. Two boys and a little princess. They are adorable ... truly ... toddling around nearing their second birthday. And I know that it has been difficult for them ... for the better part of their first year as parents, I think, they had gramas and grampas coming to help with feedings and bathings. But as difficult as it has been, I envy them because those little sweeties are all going through the same thing at the same time. They learned to walk at the same time (roughly), they will learn "pee-pee-on-the-potty" at the same time, they will all love Grover and Cookie Monster at the same time, they will all love Toy Story 3 when it comes out this summer. This is not to say that they are not individuals with their own likes and dislikes; but developmentally, they will all be interested in, and able to do, the same types of things at the same time. In that way, it would be easier for me and my parenting style. But just wait until they all want a car at the same time ... or leave for university at the same time ...

Caiden is an anxious child ... he is nervous going to new places and/or meeting new people, especially new children. He does not like crowds. He is interested in learning new things and experiencing new things ... but not if there are other people around or it is crowded. And not if it involves being away from the house for an extended period of time. Finding an activity that the family can do together is challenging. My sweet boy is very high maintenance, and can take all of my efforts. And all of my energy. When he and I go out together (just the two of us) and he has all my attention, he is usually fabulous ... well-behaved, polite, appropriately shy but well-spoken when spoken to, and I would even use the word, mature - as long as it is not an all-day shopping trip. Wait ... who am I kidding? I think the last time I went on an all-day shopping trip, it was a different century. But, you know what I mean ... he enjoys time at home ... he's a home-body like me. Caiden draws a real sense of security from familiar surroundings.

So, when I complain (as I have been known to do) about what to do with my children and how to entertain them, the answer everyone give me is to just enroll the kids in a camp. If only it were that easy. By the time, I helped Caiden to adjust to the new environment and the new people, the camp would be over. And he would not have enjoyed himself, and I would not have enjoyed myself. Somtimes it is just easier to do the easy thing.

Some day, I will write about the challenges of having an anxious child. It can be devastating at times, heart-breaking, frustrating, trying, and eye-opening. But, you know, I would never want to embarrass Caiden. Or reveal things that may upset him ... or cause him more anxiety. So, for now, just know that when I take my children out ... in the world ... it can be very difficult. 

Addison is almost four years old ... enough said. She is curious but respectful of her distance away from me. However, she does not respect displays of food at the grocery store ... there have been many times when I have been astounded that whole displays of apples have not come tumbling down. She is also terrible in parking lots ... she runs around the same as she does in our backyard - all willie-nillie.

The three of them in a parking lot is enough to send me running for a large bottle tranquilizers.

And, Addison will put anything in her mouth. She's not afraid. Once, when she was about two-and-a-half years old, she found Smarties on the floor at Toys R Us and, yes, she ate them ... I know, I'm reaching for the anti-bacterial mouthwash as I type. While Marnie giggled, Caiden and I almost had a nervous breakdown. Now, you are probably asking yourself why a two-and-a-half-year-old was not sitting in the shopping cart? Because good mommies would ensure that their toddler was safe in the shopping cart, so that little episodes like the one I just mentioned, do not happen. That is a great point, however, Addie C. did not see things that way at the time. And letting her run off some energy while walking through the store, seemed like a good idea at that moment. I mean, what could happen? It's Toys R Us ... they expect kids to get into trouble, right? True, but apparently, these same kids can also eat someone else's Smarties off the floor.

So, between Caiden feeling out of sorts in a strange place, and Addie C. running around like a four-year-old does, eating someone else's Smarties off the floor, I hope you can appreciate why it is difficult for me to take them out. And, I hope you also appreciate my guilt over not doing more things with the three of them.
 March Break 2010 was a long week. Jonesy took a couple of days off, and we tried to do some things with them ... went to a Maple Syrup farm, had supper at Nana and Grampa's house, Marnie slept over at Nana's house, too; Marnie and I went to my cousin's curling match; we went out to eat a couple of times - in a restaurant. But it is difficult with the three of them ... when we visited a local favourite for supper, Caiden used the (single) handicapped restroom - but left the door wide open so all the patrons could watch him take care of his business, if they so choose. He had no idea because his back was to the door. Welcome to a trip to a restaurant with the Jones.

You know, it feels good to write all this down and admit to my feelings of inadequacy. I tell myself that it will get easier as they get older; and I believe that is true. And, I know there will be new challenges right around the corner ... like referree-ing battles over shoes and belts, and juggling everyone else's social calendar.

So, for today, I will just continue to enjoy the quiet and the hot latte. Woo-hoo!!
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How to Watch the Academy Awards When You're a Mom
Author: jill
•10:22 PM
I tried all weekend to get one done. I wanted to write a post marking my predictions for the winners at the Academy Awards. You know ... one of those really well-thought-out, insightfully written pieces. I wanted to be someone with an informed opinion.

Who am I kidding? I just wish I could have any opinion on the nominees.

I love movies, but I just don't get to watch them very often any more. Since January, I have been reading. A lot. And, writing. Prior to that, I guess I just didn't take the time. Perhaps I was too tired to concentrate on one thing for that long ... because when you have been cleaning up after Addie C. and therefore, are very tired, two hours (in a row) can be a long time.

Every year, I make the same pledge ... next year, I am going to watch all the films nominated for Best Picture before the Awards Show. That way, I can actually have an opinion. Otherwise, I am left cheering for the person whose dress I like the best, or judging a person's worthiness based on the movie they made three years ago, instead of the one they are nominated for. Next year ... I'm really gonna do it. There, now I've said it out loud, so I have to do it.

The best part for me is the Red Carpet. However, if you're a Mom with young children, you don't really get to enjoy it. It starts at 6pm, which for us Moms,  is about the same time the evening routine begins, starting with cleaning up the supper dishes. And, last night, we were just sitting down to eat our supper when they rolled out the Red Carpet.

As I sat, eating the stuffed chicken breasts with pan-seared corn (found in my new favourte cookbook, Food Matters by Mark Bittman), I wondered what the celebrities would be eating at Wolfgang Puck's annual party. The great thing about the Internet is that after about three clickety-clicks, I was staring at the full menu. Check it out ...

2010 ACADEMY AWARDS Menu
by Wolfgang Puck
with Chef Partner Matt Bencivenga
Desserts by Executive Pastry Chef Sherry Yard

Passed Hors d'Oeuvres
Tempura Shrimp and Lobster
Mini Kobe Burgers with Aged Cheddar and Remoulade
Wasabi Pea Crusted Crab Cake with Mango and Thai Basil
Smoked Salmon Pizza with Caviar and Dill Creme
Black Truffle and Ricotta Cheese Pizza
Vegetable Spring Rolls with Sweet and Spicy Dipping Sauce
Chicken Pot Stickers with Ginger Black Vinegar Dipping Sauce

Dinner
House Smoked Salmon, Potato Galette, Creme Fraiche and Baby Greens
with Butler-passed Warm Brioche
Black Truffle Chicken Pot Pie with Yukon Gold Potatoes, Baby Heirloom Vegetables and Homemade Pastry
Crust

Dessert
"L'Etoile de Oscar"
Baked Alaska with Espresso Glace, Guittard L'Etoile du Nord Chocolate Sorbet and Toasted Meringue


For me, I think I would have just filled up on the Passed Hors D'oeuvres and forgotten about the main ccourse. Every single thing is a favourite of mine ... shrimp and lobster are fabulous any time, any way. Little cheese burgers ... come on ... you know you'd love them too. Crab cakes are a small obsession of mine - I absolutely love them. I should make some; and then I could get out some of my fancy serving trays I recently rediscovered. Two kinds of pizza ... because two is better than one. Spring rolls ... honestly, I thought crab cakes would be the highlight of the menu until I saw that there would be spring rolls. I could live on Spring Rolls ... fresh or deep-fried ... I don't care ... just make sure that I get a lot of them. And finally, pot stickers ... love all Asian food. And just to get crazy, I might dip the Pot Stickers in the Sweet and Spicy Dipping Sauce, and the Spring Rolls in the Ginger Black Vinegar Dipping Sauce. But that's just me ... 'cause I'm crazy like that!

Where was I? Ah ... yes ... wishing I could see the dresses on the Red Carpet. Although I was all finished with bed-time routines in time to see Neil Patrick Harris sing his heart out, I only saw glimpses of the Red Carpet. I could be heard gasping as I walked by the television barking out orders to various children ...

"Ugh ... what could she have been thinking? Marnie, time to get your jammas on and brush your teeth ..."

Which may have been followed up with something like ...

"Marn, bring your jammas in here to get changed so you can see this lady's pretty dress  ... oh, and look at her hair ..."

Of course, Marnie really didn't care. But she is an oppportunist.

"Mommy, can I stay up late to watch this with you?" I think you know the answer to that question.

In case you care, my favourite dress of the night was Helen Miren's ... sophisticated, yet stylish and very flattering. Fancy yet not overly done. Colour looked great on her, too.

So,  I am already planning next year's Oscar party, because I'll actually be anxious to see if my favourites win. I'll be done my reading challenge on December 31st, so that give me three months - with nothing to do - in which to watch all the movies nominated for Best Picture. When do they announce the nominees? Better check into that - put it on one of lists, somewhere.

And maybe I'll make Wolfgang Puck's Passed Hors D'oeuvres and have a little appetizer party. Wanna come over?
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Addie C. Jones and the Art Project
Author: jill
•9:30 AM
Recently, Caiden has shown an interest in art. How images are drawn, by hand or computer generated; colour combinations; he looks at Renoir or drawings of SpongeBob. He has a natural curiosity that is never satisfied. So, for his birthday this year, I got him some art supplies. A poster size sketch book, along with his own "artist" pencil crayons, oil pastels and charcoal. I wanted him to have some different mediums to experiment with. He loves it ... especially the charcoal.

Charcoal is really cool to use when drawing/sketching. It can produce a strong, bold line or it can be used for shading. Caiden likes to draw something and then rub his hands in the charcoal ... all over the page ... and his clothes ... and the bathroom sink. It is very messy; and in retrospect, perhaps, not my most intelligent shopping decision. But I wanted him to experience something new and interesting. And anyway, who said I do things the easy way?

Which brings me to the other morning.

I needed a few minutes to blow dry my hair; so I suggested that Addie C. find something to keep herself busy, and then we would go downstairs and make some lunch. Now, let's just stop at this point for a moment because there are a couple of things to address. First, I would like to point out the obvious ... that it is never a good idea to suggest an almost four-year-old little girl, who has a propensity to find trouble anyway, "find something to keep herself busy." This was just stupid on my part. The second point that needs to be mentioned is that because my hair is so long right now, she knew I would be otherwise occupied for quite a few minutes. My hair is ridiculously long; Caiden measured the length once and reported it to be twenty inches long ... not sure if that is correct, but I wouldn't mess with him and numbers. Anyhow, it takes ten to fifteen minutes to blow it dry ... so she had ten to fifteen minutes of free time ... to find something to keep herself busy.

When Addie C. heard the blow dryer click "off," she sauntered into the bathroom. Sweet smile on her face. I knew something was up.

"Hello, Mommy," she starts. "So ... what are we gonna do today?"

I notice there is something dark on the palms of her hands and ask what it is. She, of course, tries to hide them, look of terror on her face. I discover it is charcoal, and take off running into Caiden's room. Afraid of what I will find.

What I find is a drawing on the carpet ... with charcoal. Now, from an artist's perspective, I might like to point out that she has used strong bold lines and some nice shading, especially for an almost four-year-old ... who has a propensity to find trouble. But I am not an artist ... I am a mother. A very unhappy mother.

Addie C. immediately bursts into tears, full of regret. The thing that I truly do not understand, is that she knew it was wrong when she did it. But she did it anyway. And then she feels bad about doing it. So, when the idea crosses her mind ... to draw with the impossible-to-remove charcoal on the carpet in her brother's bedroom ... does she just lose all other thought process? Or, are they (the almost four-year-olds with a propensity to find trouble, that is) unable to look past the immediate gratification of doing something enjoyable? I believe Freud would remind me that children at this stage are ruled by the ID ... Addie C. is strongly ruled by the ID. I continue to hope that the SUPEREGO will get to work soon!!

The thing is ... I really like the picture. The little girl is darling ... something about the eyes and the big smile. I wish it was on paper ... because I would put it away in her memory box with all the other special art projects she has given to me. But this project ... I have to figure out how to remove.

Any ideas?


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Apparently
Author: jill
•11:17 AM
As I am sure you can imagine, I have read many, many children's books. More than one hundred in one year, for sure. And, occasionally, I come across one that I love so much I want to tell the world about it.

Caiden brought home The Boy Who Loved Words by Roni Schotter from the school library this week. He also brought it home when he was in Senior Kindergarten; so, there must me something about the book that attracts him. It is the story of a little boy, named Selig, who loves words ... their sound, their meaning, their taste. And he writes them on little pieces of paper so that he can remember them. He is different from the other children and, of course, he is teased. Little Selig becomes embarrassed by his hobby and obsession. As he grows a little older, Selig comes to embrace his talent and love of words, finding a way to make them useful. And, thus, a way to make himself feel useful.

The vocabulary used in the story is great ... even I learned a couple new ones. My favourite is tintinnabulating, which means making a sound like bells. I love words that describe a sound ... crinkle, scrunch, mellifluous, giggle. Do you have a favourite word? In conversation, apparently I use the word "apparently" a great deal because Caiden now uses it. That is one of the hallmarks of great parenting ... when your kids start to talk like you. Apparently, it's true; because I hear myself saying the same things my mother used to say. Apparently.

The Boy Who Loved Words is a wonderful story about staying true to yourself and finding pride in your talent, even if it makes you different from others. So, if you have a young friend, who has a special gift that makes him/her unique, consider this book for a gift. S/he is not alone.

Little Selig so reminds me of my Caiden, and so it interests me that he is attracted to this story, too. And when he finds a use for all his special talents, look out world ... 'cause there will be no stopping him!
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What up? Where you at?
Author: jill
•10:17 PM
I feel as though I have been neglecting my beloved blog recently. But it has not been out of disinterest. It has been because of life and choices.

Two weeks ago, I came down with a throat infection and it knocked me out. It was great for reading, but that was about all I accomplished. I was rendered helpless for a week ... but then I had to make up for so selfishly being sick. Laundry had piled into a mountain, the house looked like a place where there was a shortage of mothers, like a rental house full of university boys students. And I wish I could tell you that I had been off jet-setting to important meetings out of town, or lounging on the beach somewhere very hot. But no ... instead, I had just been sitting in the big brown chair reading and trying to stay awake. So now, I have been stuck doing what any good wife and mother would do ... picking away at it all, as tolerated. While still trying to read one hundred books in one year.

But I have also been doing something else. After all the reading I have done on food and health, I decided it was time to make some changes and go back to what I knew was right. Right for me, that is. And I have been inspired by Jonesy, who has made some radical changes in his diet, all in the name of his Bucket Quest. He has brought some of the old familiar things back into the house ... things that I use to enjoy eating. If you want to see what he has been up to, click here.

I decided to give up all sugar, including fruit, as well as all dairy and wheat products - just for a couple of weeks to cleanse my body a little bit; in the hopes that this old thing would jumpstart itself and feel healthy again, restoring some of the long-lost energy that disappeared about the time baby number three was conceived.

So, this means that since Monday, February 8th I have not eaten any bread, pasta, (my beloved) muffins, sugary treats, or the chocolate Valentine cupcakes I made for the kids' classes or cheesy pizza. Those are the obvious things. But, I cannot consume purchased salad dressings, mayonnaise, dill pickles - honestly, the list goes on and on. I have been surviving on salad, eggs and a little chicken, vegetables and brown rice. Oh, and Kamut cereal with Vanilla RiceDream. By the way, RiceDream is really good; especially on cereal. My kids love it and actually ask for it. I could never drink a glass of cold rice milk, or soy milk for that matter. But drinking a glass of milk at supper has kinda gone to by the wayside, hasn't it?

Anyhow, I have become a little irritable ... shocking as that may seem. If you find this hard to believe, you can ask anyone in my family. They will confirm this as fact for you ... undoubtedly. Actually, as your body withdraws from refined sugar, it tries to maintain the intake by creating strong cravings. So, as it turns out I am not just a momoholic, but a sugar-o-holic, as well. I thought I would crave my favourites, like Skittles or licorice or warm (from the oven) chocolate chip cookies; but I don't. I want a submarine sandwich of all things; and I want it really bad. With an icy cold, fizzy Coke. One reason that this is so difficult is that once you feel hungry ... it's too late. There is nothing that you can just grab, that is quick to eat. You have to chop, peel, shred, or saute before you can eat; and when you are starving, unable to think clearly, you just want to stuff something in your mouth to make the beast in your stomach shut the f*** up. Now, do you feel the pain of living with me?

Last night, after a little nervous breakdown, I decided to bake muffins ... without sugar. I wanted to see what they would be like. I used a favourite recipe for Oatmeal Raisin Muffins that is a staple in our house; and I substituted Spelt for Whole Wheat Flour, and omitted the raisins and brown sugar.

As soon as the oven beeped, I ran over to open the door and inspect my creation. They looked like my regular muffins, and the definitely smelled like my muffins.

"Mmmm ... those smell like good muffins for me," Addie C. commented.

"Oh, no ..." I said. "Those are special muffins only for mommies."

I was not going to share these ... the only thing I could eat that did not require any further prep work in order to consume it. Unless, of course, they were disgusting; in which case, Addie C. would be welcome to help herself. 

As it turned out, Addie C. did get to try one ... but not because they were repulsive. It was because they were so good that I wanted to enlighten my whole family. And, as an added bonus, these little muffins probably saved my life ... and my sanity ... and my marriage. They taste like a plain biscuit, I guess; but with a little butter, they rock my world. A lot! Marnie tried one too, with butter and a little honey drizzled on top and she ate the whole thing ... loving it. Try it sometime ... take your favourite muffin recipe, and omit the sugar; then use a little honey or maple syrup to sweeten it at the table ... it's much healthier than refined sugar.

This brings me to another thought ... which will lead to another thought. Don't worry ... this happens all the time. Eventually, I will stop typing. In the last couple of weeks, it has become increasingly apparent that children are willing to try new things. Especially if their parents are eating them too. They innately enjoy healthy foods. For instance, Jonesy brought home dried (organic) apricots, which are one of the best sources for iron, and are extremely healthful. I made a plate with an assortment of dried apricots, and big plump organic raisins, as well as (new to us) green raisins, and just placed it on the table one night at supper time. I didn't say a word about the plate, but they were all eager to get their hands on the new treats. All three kids tried the dried fruit and loved it ... especially the apricots. Remember ... nature's candy? It's true and kids really do like it; there are lots of different dried fruits out there. The same thing happens with a new/different vegetable ... they always want to try it. They might not always like it, but at least they have tried.

I have just learned how to sprout seeds in mason jars ... so we now have fresh sprouts at our house all the time. The kids, especially Caiden, have taken great interest in watching the sprouts come to life from little seeds. Give your children the opportunity to try different things ... you'll be surprised.

Guess where we got all these new things to try? In the most unlikely of places .... The Bulkbarn. I thought The Bulkbarn was mostly an assortment of candy and chips - snacky foods. I have friends who would go there before a movie and fill bags with candy to sneak into the theatre. Turns out, there is a whole lot more than that! There were so many things to choose from, my head was spinning. They have alternative flours ... like Kamut and spelt and oat; they even have something called coconut flour. Don't you love coconut? As soon as I'm done with this whole "no sugar" thing, you can bet your last dollar there will be cookies with some coconut flour made at my house. We have to be very careful because Caiden is allergic to walnuts and peanuts (known, for sure) ... so for years there have been no nuts allowed in our home. However, you cannot eat a raw diet (see above, the Bucket Quest) without consuming some nuts; so, Jonesy has devised a system for storing nuts ... away from everything else. And what is good for the goose is good for the gander, right? I mean, I don't have any allergies to food; so, when the kids all go to bed - Jonesy and I - we sneak nuts ... like we're doing something dirty and to be ashamed of, or something. When we are finished, I clean the counters frantically and wash my hands until they are raw and then wipe down every single thing that I may have touched or looked at. Sounds like fun, doesn't it? But the nuts are worth it ... Anyway, go to The Bulkbarn - apparently it is a health food store in disguise.

Wow ... I guess I'm feeling better 'cause I got my "chat" back. I am hopeful that the "healing crisis" has passed and I will just continue to feel better and better. Then I can blog and blog and blog again. And the shift in thinking has begun because I had one half of a spaghetti squash for my lunch today. Who eats spaghetti squash for lunch?

I have actually been reading and will have my next discussion up soon. Random Family ... so good. Cannot wait to tell you about it! 

Oh  ... no. There may be a set back to my shift in thinking. I have just learned that I will have to confront the very thing that I want to eat more than anything. It's Jonesy's night to cook for the family. And, guess what? He just left to pick the kids up a submarine for supper tonight ... that's what.
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