Despite my aversion to baby/parenting books (see last post), I have a monthly subscription to "Today's Parent" (I can get it el cheapo on my Rogers bill). I don't generally find it all that useful (except for the occasional recipe) but I enjoy reading it and I have a certain amount of respect for the people who produce it. I mean really, props to them for putting together something that's supposed to appeal to parents of newborns and parents of teenagers. Really that's kind of like trying to create a meaningful publication for tattoo addicts and macrame enthusiasts. Anyway, one of their monthly features is a reader submitted piece on some aspect of parenting. Recently it was a piece by a woman admitting her intense shock and indeed sadness at finding out she and her partner were expecting a baby boy. Of course it goes without saying that she is now completely besotted with their gorgeous little boy but her piece spoke about how when she had imagined her life with a child, she had always imagined a girl. She didn't have anything against boys, just a long held fantasy that she would be the mother of a girl.
Reading the piece got me thinking about how aspirational parenthood is. Even before they are born, children inspire a future looking mentality where many of ones hopes and dreams reside. For many of us the decision to have kids is one we made long ago. It may not even really have been a decision - just a belief that we would one day be parents. I know that's how it was for me. I never imagined a future that didn't include having kids. I can't say I ever gave a whole lot of thought to whether or not these children would be boys or girls but reading this article reminded me that I definitely did have a vision of what my child would be like. And while I didn't experience her feelings of intense sadness, I did have many moments where my dreams of what my child would be like and who he actually was were very, very different.
He is of course perfect. Perfectly Gabriel. But from an early age it became clear that what I expected my child to be like and who Gabriel was did not always overlap. I remember eagerly looking forward to the day he would be able to grasp a crayon and scribbley masterpieces would cover my fridge. I couldn't wait to enjoy his first works of self-produced art. Let's just say that if Molly hadn't come along, our fridge would be pretty bare. Despite my efforts to engage him in arts and crafts, Gabriel never latched on. Of course he delighted and thrilled us in a million different ways but there was often a little pang of sadness when I saw swirly finger paintings on the fridges of other parents. A little sigh when the crafts that came home from drop-in were very clearly crafted by my mother-in-law or Ana, his caregiver. Now it's true that over the years I have been lucky enough to receive some lovely works of art from Gabriel but it's definitely not how he'd prefer to spend his time. Looking back I'm surprised at how long it took me to accept that this is the way Gabriel is. But I can say that I now enjoy being able to easily pick out his decidedly "minimalist" pieces of art from the display outside his classroom!
Like many parents I had always imagined and looked forward to the day my child would participate in his first school concert/recital/soccer game. We would of course be charmed as our little cutie flubbed his lines/missed the ball and gave us a little wave while doing so. Well, that bubble got burst when Gabriel flat out refused to wear the cap and gown ensemble for his pre-school "graduation" and balked heavily at the idea of walking across the stage to receive his "diploma". I watched all the other kids lined up in the caps and gowns and I can't say I didn't wonder why my kid wouldn't participate. A year later, my heart ached a little when his JK teacher asked if we were going to bother coming to the spring concert; Gabriel hadn't participated in a single rehearsal so there was little reason to imagine he'd do so at the concert. Well, we showed up and you know what, he actually stood on stage with his class for one song. He spent the second song holding a teacher's hand at the side of the stage. We considered that a huge success.
I call Gabriel my "unconventional" child. In a given situation, you can never count on him to behave as the majority of kids will. Time with this unconventional little soul has reminded me that it's good to know your own mind, to do your own thing, to stick to your guns. Conventional children wake up and want to know what the plans for the day are. Unconventional children wake up, pee, play with Lego for 3 hours and need to be reminded to eat breakfast. Unconventional children beg you not to register them for day camp "ever ever ever again" (even though they actually had fun). Unconventional children love what you thought they'd hate and hate what you thought they'd love. Unconventional children keep you on your toes.
But because I'm blessed, mother nature very kindly provided us with a child that does love to draw and perform and go willingly to day camp. The "conventional" one who pretty much always does what you expect (pretty much...). The one who's everything I imagined a child of mine would be right down to her endless desire to provide me with more scribbly drawings than I know what to do with. The one who, at age 3, eagerly went on stage and forgot to pirouette at her first dance recital.
The contrasts between my children allow me to enjoy motherhood as I imagined it to be and to experience joys I never knew were possible (remember when I mentioned he wakes, pees and plays contentedly by himself?). While I enjoy Molly's prolific artistic nature, every work from Gabriel is something to be carefully treasured. Every performance he gives, be it in a school concert or on the soccer field, is deeply appreciated because he rarely participates without some serious reservations.
Babies come in to the world with their own little agendas safely stowed in their tiny, sweet heads. As parents we have agendas of our own long before those sweet heads ever even rest on our shoulders. The magical thing about parenthood is that those agendas cannot help but become aligned. No matter what, your children cannot help but be just right for you.
October 14, 2011
September 7, 2011
buy, by, bye the book
There are a plethora of easy top ten lists to be made from parenthood. And I do love a good list! On my top ten list of dislikes are parenting books. I'd almost forgotten how very much I dislike them but for some reason I recently started trying to read "Kids Are Worth It" by Barbara Coloroso. And I was immediately reminded of my dislike. For one thing much of the advice in parenting books is oblique. Example -toddler has fit every time you try to get them dressed. Solution? - give toddler some control and choice. Offer toddler the green shirt and the blue shirt. And like magic toddler will feel happy and satisfied that they have control, choose a shirt and willingly gets dressed. Ta da! I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who had a toddler that stomped on both shirts and continued whining. So, smarty pants book, what do I do now? Usually the advice stops there.
I could go on at length about my beefs with Ms. Coloroso. I mean her heart is in the right place and she makes some good points; her theory is that kids need to suffer the natural consequences of their actions and there by learn how to regulate their own behaviour ("the gift of inner discipline"). I don't necessarily disagree but I don't want to be made to feel guilty about giving my kid a time-out. It's not always possible to get to the true root of misbehaviour and dammit, sometimes you just do it because I bloody well said so. And a good deal of her advice relates to teenagers. I can see it's just common sense that if a kid dents the folks' car he should be made to pay for the damage etc. etc. But that doesn't help me much with my kids as they are excellent drivers and our van already has some many damn dents, who cares?
But I wanted to like parenting books, I really did. Pretty much the first thing I did when I found out I was pregnant with Gabey(right after I cried and laughed and tried for 1 whole day not to spill the beans to my Mum) was buy good old "What to Expect When You're Expecting" WTEWYE gets a fair amount of flak and some of it's deserved but overall I found it pretty handy. I read a few other books while pregnant including the super scary "Birth Partner - Everything You Need to Know to Help a Woman Through Childbirth". OMG, that book contains a description of how a c-section works that is seared into my memory. Jono also read "Birth Partner" and it turned him in to the biggest nerd in our pre-natal class. I had to beg him to put his hand down as he was making the other guys (and, frankly, the pregnant ladies) look bad. But I digress. In sum, pregnancy books were overall pretty useful.
But then I came home with the babe and those helpful books became a source of heartache and frustration. There's a reason why the average baby book is about 14 times longer than the average pregnancy book. That would be because there is no average baby. I made myself crazy reading books, trying "solutions" and then weeping when they didn't work out as advertised. Why why why didn't they work? With time I eventually learned that by the time you've gone mental trying to solve a given issue, your delightful baby will have very likely gotten over that particular problem and has moved on to something else. But in the moment, with my first baby I felt for sure I had some sort of weird infant and that all other mothers were blissfully reading books, following the suggestions and having great success ('cause otherwise why are there so many baby books?). I did of course find out that wasn't true but it was hard for me to get past the belief that the solution for my problems lay in a book. And there's always one mama who's a big reader and is trying all the "expert" recommended tricks and having great success (or so she says...). But fortunately there are more mamas who tell is like it is. After diligently reading and trying "The No Cry Sleep Solution" one of my baby group mamas referred to it as the "No Sleep Cry Solution". Guess that one didn't quite work out as advertised...
So I eventually let the parenting books go. I have a couple around that I haul out occasionally for factual reference (I can never remember what temperature constitutes a fever). But until I tried reading "Kids Are Worth It" last week I hadn't read a parenting book in years. And now I can thank Ms. Coloroso for reminding me why. Now, where did I put that box of stuff that's heading to Value Village...
I could go on at length about my beefs with Ms. Coloroso. I mean her heart is in the right place and she makes some good points; her theory is that kids need to suffer the natural consequences of their actions and there by learn how to regulate their own behaviour ("the gift of inner discipline"). I don't necessarily disagree but I don't want to be made to feel guilty about giving my kid a time-out. It's not always possible to get to the true root of misbehaviour and dammit, sometimes you just do it because I bloody well said so. And a good deal of her advice relates to teenagers. I can see it's just common sense that if a kid dents the folks' car he should be made to pay for the damage etc. etc. But that doesn't help me much with my kids as they are excellent drivers and our van already has some many damn dents, who cares?
But I wanted to like parenting books, I really did. Pretty much the first thing I did when I found out I was pregnant with Gabey(right after I cried and laughed and tried for 1 whole day not to spill the beans to my Mum) was buy good old "What to Expect When You're Expecting" WTEWYE gets a fair amount of flak and some of it's deserved but overall I found it pretty handy. I read a few other books while pregnant including the super scary "Birth Partner - Everything You Need to Know to Help a Woman Through Childbirth". OMG, that book contains a description of how a c-section works that is seared into my memory. Jono also read "Birth Partner" and it turned him in to the biggest nerd in our pre-natal class. I had to beg him to put his hand down as he was making the other guys (and, frankly, the pregnant ladies) look bad. But I digress. In sum, pregnancy books were overall pretty useful.
But then I came home with the babe and those helpful books became a source of heartache and frustration. There's a reason why the average baby book is about 14 times longer than the average pregnancy book. That would be because there is no average baby. I made myself crazy reading books, trying "solutions" and then weeping when they didn't work out as advertised. Why why why didn't they work? With time I eventually learned that by the time you've gone mental trying to solve a given issue, your delightful baby will have very likely gotten over that particular problem and has moved on to something else. But in the moment, with my first baby I felt for sure I had some sort of weird infant and that all other mothers were blissfully reading books, following the suggestions and having great success ('cause otherwise why are there so many baby books?). I did of course find out that wasn't true but it was hard for me to get past the belief that the solution for my problems lay in a book. And there's always one mama who's a big reader and is trying all the "expert" recommended tricks and having great success (or so she says...). But fortunately there are more mamas who tell is like it is. After diligently reading and trying "The No Cry Sleep Solution" one of my baby group mamas referred to it as the "No Sleep Cry Solution". Guess that one didn't quite work out as advertised...
So I eventually let the parenting books go. I have a couple around that I haul out occasionally for factual reference (I can never remember what temperature constitutes a fever). But until I tried reading "Kids Are Worth It" last week I hadn't read a parenting book in years. And now I can thank Ms. Coloroso for reminding me why. Now, where did I put that box of stuff that's heading to Value Village...
July 31, 2011
is the livin' really easy?
Well, it's summer time so it must be right? Well, actually yes, the livin' is pretty easy around chez Nemethy (for the most part...). It is at this time of year over all others that I am most thankful I made the decision to quit work. Check with me on any random snowy/rainy/freezing day in January and I might not be so sure.
(Now, before I go any further a disclaimer stating that quitting work was the right decision for me and our family. This post implies nor intends judgement of families who choose any other course. There are many many many good reasons to go out to work and money might be the least of them. The concept of a "coffee break" and general lack of small children are greater. I feel the need to explain myself a little on this point as the decision of who works and how much is one of the toughest issues most families face and no one needs any one else judging their choices. And while I can't guarantee you won't be judged, I can guarantee it won't be by me.)
Okay, where was I...right, quitting work...boy, that was fun. Anyway, summer time and the stay at home Mum. A match made in heaven? Mostly. I could write an uber fair post filled with the pros and cons of how kids can best spend their summers (I'm not going to) but I know for me, as an actual person and not just as a Mum, not going out to work in the summer rocks. There, I said it. I selfishly enjoy that for the first time in my adult life, I have a tan. An awesome tan. A tan that I did not lie around working on but a tan that just happened because I spend a ton of time outside (wearing sunscreen...mostly...). I wear flip flops almost every day. I have eaten more than one giant freezie. I am hot (in a temperature sense) and happy.
But what of the children you may ask. Well, they're pretty happy too. Me being home means that they get a relaxing summer that I think really feels like a break. Lots of time to wake up late and hang out in their jammies. Plenty of time at the pool and riding their bikes. It is synergistic that the lack of need for awesomely cool summer camps is balanced by the fact that we cannot afford such camps anyway. They have both enjoyed a little free day camp and some free tennis lessons but for the most part their days have been pretty unstructured.
So, are they bored? Truthfully yes, sometimes. Gabriel told me the other day that he was in fact "sick and dying from boredom". But he's still with us so I guess that passed. That's the downside of no awesomely cool camps and a well structured routine - potential boredom. But you know what, I read just the other day that boredom is the hip new trend (Elle Canada July 2011 issue). "Boredom is Back!" they say. And without any effort at all, I am exposing my children to the trend that all the hipsters are dying to try. Genius. Except for hearing "I'm bored I'm bored I'm bored I'm bored" from time to time. And of course, the potential risk of "dying". I guess the article was in Elle, not Today's Parent so the awesomeness of boredom may only apply to fashionable, over-worked 20-somethings and not to potentially under programed small children.
So that's our summer, unstructured, outdoors, active and yes, a little bored (but remember, that's potentially a good thing now). But hopefully no one will be bored in August - we're off to sunny (please, please be sunny) Nova Scotia and PEI for 3 weeks. And that right there is what truly shows me that the quitting decision was the right one. The potential for multiple glorious weeks with my lovely and muchly missed family. A chance for four great kids to experience being cousins without Skype. Chances for so many things really. I can't wait. See you in September!
(Now, before I go any further a disclaimer stating that quitting work was the right decision for me and our family. This post implies nor intends judgement of families who choose any other course. There are many many many good reasons to go out to work and money might be the least of them. The concept of a "coffee break" and general lack of small children are greater. I feel the need to explain myself a little on this point as the decision of who works and how much is one of the toughest issues most families face and no one needs any one else judging their choices. And while I can't guarantee you won't be judged, I can guarantee it won't be by me.)
Okay, where was I...right, quitting work...boy, that was fun. Anyway, summer time and the stay at home Mum. A match made in heaven? Mostly. I could write an uber fair post filled with the pros and cons of how kids can best spend their summers (I'm not going to) but I know for me, as an actual person and not just as a Mum, not going out to work in the summer rocks. There, I said it. I selfishly enjoy that for the first time in my adult life, I have a tan. An awesome tan. A tan that I did not lie around working on but a tan that just happened because I spend a ton of time outside (wearing sunscreen...mostly...). I wear flip flops almost every day. I have eaten more than one giant freezie. I am hot (in a temperature sense) and happy.
But what of the children you may ask. Well, they're pretty happy too. Me being home means that they get a relaxing summer that I think really feels like a break. Lots of time to wake up late and hang out in their jammies. Plenty of time at the pool and riding their bikes. It is synergistic that the lack of need for awesomely cool summer camps is balanced by the fact that we cannot afford such camps anyway. They have both enjoyed a little free day camp and some free tennis lessons but for the most part their days have been pretty unstructured.
So, are they bored? Truthfully yes, sometimes. Gabriel told me the other day that he was in fact "sick and dying from boredom". But he's still with us so I guess that passed. That's the downside of no awesomely cool camps and a well structured routine - potential boredom. But you know what, I read just the other day that boredom is the hip new trend (Elle Canada July 2011 issue). "Boredom is Back!" they say. And without any effort at all, I am exposing my children to the trend that all the hipsters are dying to try. Genius. Except for hearing "I'm bored I'm bored I'm bored I'm bored" from time to time. And of course, the potential risk of "dying". I guess the article was in Elle, not Today's Parent so the awesomeness of boredom may only apply to fashionable, over-worked 20-somethings and not to potentially under programed small children.
So that's our summer, unstructured, outdoors, active and yes, a little bored (but remember, that's potentially a good thing now). But hopefully no one will be bored in August - we're off to sunny (please, please be sunny) Nova Scotia and PEI for 3 weeks. And that right there is what truly shows me that the quitting decision was the right one. The potential for multiple glorious weeks with my lovely and muchly missed family. A chance for four great kids to experience being cousins without Skype. Chances for so many things really. I can't wait. See you in September!
July 18, 2011
thanks for the memories
Not so long ago I was chatting with one of my mamas. I said that I couldn't believe that her daughter was going to be in grade 3 next year; it seemed so grown up. And she commented about how she remembered grade 3. Me too I said. What did we remember about grade 3? Quite a lot as it turns out. And grade 2, I vividly remember a lot of things about grade 2 (I had an amazing teacher that year). We were quiet for a moment, processing what this meant. In our most glib way we joked about how we'd better step up and actually start taking this parenting thing seriously. Damn, our kids are actually going to remember stuff! No more parenting freebies - now we're playing for keeps! Our glibness belied the fact that not so deep down this realization had freaked us out a bit (actually a lot).
Of course parenting matters right from the moment our little nuggets are born but knowing that memories they will carry with them for life are now being formed is a heavy responsibility. And for this reason it feels like my kids are currently residing in two different worlds. Molly is still in blissful pre-schooler land where there is plenty of drama and heartache but it comes and goes in the blink of an eye; sometimes before the tears have even dried. Sure she remembers stuff, most little kids have freakish ability to remember seemingly endless bits of minutia, but not in the way that leads to enduring memories. But for Gabriel, some of what he experiences now is going to be there in his memory for a very long time. Perhaps forever.
So, I feel acutely, more than ever, the need to get it right. The guilt of wondering if I got it wrong. Because if he is going to remember, what he learns now needs to be worth remembering. I know that every aspect of my parenting can't be perfect and that no matter good it is he will still probably remember the day(s) Mummy yelled. The disappointments. The heartaches. The times I get it wrong. Geesh. Much as I am loath to admit it, I know now for sure that everyone who told me newborns were a piece of cake compared to the struggles to come was 100% right. And yes, I know, I've still not faced any "real" struggles...yet...
But so as not to end on a heavy note, I have to say it is of course a wonderful thing to know that many of the good things Gabriel experiences now will become happy memories. Maybe even things he will tell his own kids about. Most parents have had the experience of taking a 1 year old some place amazing and feeling a regretful pang knowing that there is no way that 1 year is going to remember a damn thing about it. If you've ever spent your hard earned money on a plane ticket for an 18 month old, you know what this feels like. So I smile knowing that a lot of what Gabriel experiences now will become part of his happy memories. That more than ever, the efforts we make as parents and the opportunities we struggle to provide will affect him positively.
Of course parenting matters right from the moment our little nuggets are born but knowing that memories they will carry with them for life are now being formed is a heavy responsibility. And for this reason it feels like my kids are currently residing in two different worlds. Molly is still in blissful pre-schooler land where there is plenty of drama and heartache but it comes and goes in the blink of an eye; sometimes before the tears have even dried. Sure she remembers stuff, most little kids have freakish ability to remember seemingly endless bits of minutia, but not in the way that leads to enduring memories. But for Gabriel, some of what he experiences now is going to be there in his memory for a very long time. Perhaps forever.
So, I feel acutely, more than ever, the need to get it right. The guilt of wondering if I got it wrong. Because if he is going to remember, what he learns now needs to be worth remembering. I know that every aspect of my parenting can't be perfect and that no matter good it is he will still probably remember the day(s) Mummy yelled. The disappointments. The heartaches. The times I get it wrong. Geesh. Much as I am loath to admit it, I know now for sure that everyone who told me newborns were a piece of cake compared to the struggles to come was 100% right. And yes, I know, I've still not faced any "real" struggles...yet...
But so as not to end on a heavy note, I have to say it is of course a wonderful thing to know that many of the good things Gabriel experiences now will become happy memories. Maybe even things he will tell his own kids about. Most parents have had the experience of taking a 1 year old some place amazing and feeling a regretful pang knowing that there is no way that 1 year is going to remember a damn thing about it. If you've ever spent your hard earned money on a plane ticket for an 18 month old, you know what this feels like. So I smile knowing that a lot of what Gabriel experiences now will become part of his happy memories. That more than ever, the efforts we make as parents and the opportunities we struggle to provide will affect him positively.
The good news is your kid is going to remember how awesome today was. The bad news is your kid is going to remember how crappy tomorrow might turn out. So, as the old saying goes, we take the rough with the smooth. And all this thinking about memories has made me realize how important it is to take good care of my future memories too. So I'm trying to hold on to every wonderful thing that happens. And trying even harder to forget the crappy moments; when I yell at my kids, or burn the last 2 toaster waffles or step on Lego (goddam pointy little bricks...). I'm learning lots of hard lessons right now, but to haul out another tried and true platitude, I like to think of my parenting glass as half full.
July 6, 2011
thanks for the memories
Not so long ago I was chatting with one of my mamas. I said that I couldn't believe that her daughter was going to be in grade 3 next year; it seemed so grown up. And she commented about how she remembered grade 3. Me too I said. What did we remember about grade 3? Quite a lot as it turns out. And grade 2, I vividly remember a lot of things about grade 2 (I had an amazing teacher that year). We were quiet for a moment, processing what this meant. In our most glib way we joked about how we'd better step up and actually start taking this parenting thing seriously. Damn, our kids are actually going to remember stuff! No more parenting freebies - now we're playing for keeps! Our glibness belied the fact that not so deep down this realization had freaked us out a bit (actually a lot).
Of course parenting matters right from the moment our little nuggets are born but knowing that memories they will carry with them for life are now being formed is a heavy responsibility. And for this reason it feels like my kids are currently residing in two different worlds. Molly is still in blissful pre-schooler land where there is plenty of drama and heartache but it comes and goes in the blink of an eye; sometimes before the tears have even dried. Sure she remembers stuff, most little kids have freakish ability to remember seemingly endless bits of minutia, but not in the way that leads to enduring memories. But for Gabriel, some of what he experiences now is going to be there in his memory for a very long time. Perhaps forever.
So, I feel acutely, more than ever, the need to get it right. The guilt of wondering if I got it wrong. Because if he is going to remember, what he learns now needs to be worth remembering. I know that every aspect of my parenting can't be perfect and that no matter good it is he will still probably remember the day(s) Mummy yelled. The disappointments. The heartaches. The times I get it wrong. Geesh. Much as I am loath to admit it, I know now for sure that everyone who told me newborns were a piece of cake compared to the struggles to come was 100% right. And yes, I know, I've still not faced any "real" struggles...yet...
But so as not to end on a heavy note, I have to say it is of course a wonderful thing to know that many of the good things Gabriel experiences now will become happy memories. Maybe even things he will tell his own kids about. Most parents have had the experience of taking a 1 year old some place amazing and feeling a regretful pang knowing that there is no way that 1 year is going to remember a damn thing about it. If you've ever spent your hard earned money on a plane ticket for an 18 month old, you know what this feels like. So I smile knowing that a lot of what Gabriel experiences now will become part of his happy memories. That more than ever, the efforts we make as parents and the opportunities we struggle to provide will affect him positively.
Of course parenting matters right from the moment our little nuggets are born but knowing that memories they will carry with them for life are now being formed is a heavy responsibility. And for this reason it feels like my kids are currently residing in two different worlds. Molly is still in blissful pre-schooler land where there is plenty of drama and heartache but it comes and goes in the blink of an eye; sometimes before the tears have even dried. Sure she remembers stuff, most little kids have freakish ability to remember seemingly endless bits of minutia, but not in the way that leads to enduring memories. But for Gabriel, some of what he experiences now is going to be there in his memory for a very long time. Perhaps forever.
So, I feel acutely, more than ever, the need to get it right. The guilt of wondering if I got it wrong. Because if he is going to remember, what he learns now needs to be worth remembering. I know that every aspect of my parenting can't be perfect and that no matter good it is he will still probably remember the day(s) Mummy yelled. The disappointments. The heartaches. The times I get it wrong. Geesh. Much as I am loath to admit it, I know now for sure that everyone who told me newborns were a piece of cake compared to the struggles to come was 100% right. And yes, I know, I've still not faced any "real" struggles...yet...
But so as not to end on a heavy note, I have to say it is of course a wonderful thing to know that many of the good things Gabriel experiences now will become happy memories. Maybe even things he will tell his own kids about. Most parents have had the experience of taking a 1 year old some place amazing and feeling a regretful pang knowing that there is no way that 1 year is going to remember a damn thing about it. If you've ever spent your hard earned money on a plane ticket for an 18 month old, you know what this feels like. So I smile knowing that a lot of what Gabriel experiences now will become part of his happy memories. That more than ever, the efforts we make as parents and the opportunities we struggle to provide will affect him positively.
The good news is your kid is going to remember how awesome today was. The bad news is your kid is going to remember how crappy tomorrow might turn out. So, as the old saying goes, we take the rough with the smooth. And all this thinking about memories has made me realize how important it is to take good care of my future memories too. So I'm trying to hold on to every wonderful thing that happens. And trying even harder to forget the crappy moments; when I yell at my kids, or burn the last 2 toaster waffles or step on Lego (goddam pointy little bricks...). I'm learning lots of hard lessons right now, but to haul out another tried and true platitude, I like to think of my parenting glass as half full.
i rode my bike today*
First of all let me say that this post is not meant to come across as a sanctimonious brag about how wonderful we are as a family that bikes. Sure, we are wonderful but we also have a lot of factors working in our favor that make getting around by bike an easy choice lots of the time. For example we live within a block of an excellent, flat bike path. I hate hills so I can guarantee that if our rides involved any kind of incline, I'd be a lot less inclined to bike. So while I'd encourage everyone to bike more and car less, I know it's not always easy. And before I polish my halo too brightly, I cannot begin to pretend that we are giving up our vehicle. We're not that hardcore! But we are trying to make a conscious choice bike as often as we can and for trips that we might not typically have thought of as bike trips (we biked to the movies the other day for example).
In all honesty, the choice to bike is often easy as it allows me to avoid two of my biggest annoyances. The first is finding/paying for parking. The second is getting in our gas guzzling, AC busted, squeaky, messy van. An outing that allows me to avoid both is a total win in my book. And frankly for a lot of trips in the city, biking is by far faster than driving. By the time I factor in traffic and dealing with parking, biking often turns out to be the more efficient choice even for longer rides. And showing up some place, and watching the cars queue and pay for parking while we cruise up, lock the bikes and go is a special, special feeling.
And that's just the beginning of why we love to bike. Obviously it's healthier for us and better for the environment than driving. For me, biking is about the only actual exercise I get. But I figure hauling all 36.4 lbs of Molly, plus bike seat plus my heavy-ass bike is a pretty damn good work out. I watch Gabriel when he's riding and I can see some pretty good muscle development in those skinny little legs. Sometimes I worried we were pushing him too hard on our longer rides, but you know what, he rises to the occasion every time. Sometimes we have to turn the ride home into a race to keep him moving but he always gets there. And that's another rewarding discovery I've made biking; that my kid is tougher than I give him credit for. He's playing soccer this summer and every Monday night we bike there. That's about a 20 minute ride each way plus an hour of soccer and he can totally do it. Many rides I've been amazed how far we can go without him tiring. At 6 he can navigate tricky turns and work the gears on his bike. Biking develops a lot more than his leg muscles. It's his balance, fine motor skills and mental quickness that are also being tested.
Another surprising reward of biking is watching and listening for what happens while we ride. Sometimes we chat. Molly particularly is super chatty and spends a lot to time yammering on about this that and everything. And if I slow down I get a rousing chorus of "go mama go" from my "co-pilot". But sometimes she just chats to herself. She makes up little songs. She comments on what she sees. And I realize that this perfect mental "downtime" for her to be in her own little world (and as passenger, it's also physical downtime for her too - wait 'til next year girly!). Gabriel too gets a bit lost in his own world when we ride. I often hear him talking and singing to himself. Of course, he's got to ride and watch what he's doing but he's an accomplished enough rider that he can relax his brain a little and just be in his own world. Watching and listening to my kids I remember what my bike meant to me when I was a kid. It was freedom both literally to make journeys on my own, but also mentally to let my mind wander, to indulge my imagination. I remember fondly each and every one of the bikes I had growing up (hello purple cruiser with the awesome handle bars and the flowered banana seat). I always rode a lot but of course that was in a different time and place. I was a rural kid so biking was a safer, easier proposition than it is for my urban babies. And that's another reason I'm so glad we bike places as a family; if we didn't, I don't think my kids would really get to ride their bikes very far or for very long.
On all our travels down the bike paths we pass lots of other riders and it always makes me feel good when people smile at our little team. For some reason people love to see kids on bikes and Gabriel gets lots of positive feedback which I know makes me feel good too. Yet another reason I love to ride. And as a Torontonian, a side benefit of every bike ride is the opportunity to be one more "bike riding left wing pinko" sticking it to our bike hating mayor. An opportunity to claim our share of these city streets. And that makes it all worthwhile on the days when hauling 36.4 lbs of preschooler etc. while riding into the wind doesn't feel so rewarding.
*bonus points to any fellow Simpson's geeks who remember the origins of this line.
In all honesty, the choice to bike is often easy as it allows me to avoid two of my biggest annoyances. The first is finding/paying for parking. The second is getting in our gas guzzling, AC busted, squeaky, messy van. An outing that allows me to avoid both is a total win in my book. And frankly for a lot of trips in the city, biking is by far faster than driving. By the time I factor in traffic and dealing with parking, biking often turns out to be the more efficient choice even for longer rides. And showing up some place, and watching the cars queue and pay for parking while we cruise up, lock the bikes and go is a special, special feeling.
And that's just the beginning of why we love to bike. Obviously it's healthier for us and better for the environment than driving. For me, biking is about the only actual exercise I get. But I figure hauling all 36.4 lbs of Molly, plus bike seat plus my heavy-ass bike is a pretty damn good work out. I watch Gabriel when he's riding and I can see some pretty good muscle development in those skinny little legs. Sometimes I worried we were pushing him too hard on our longer rides, but you know what, he rises to the occasion every time. Sometimes we have to turn the ride home into a race to keep him moving but he always gets there. And that's another rewarding discovery I've made biking; that my kid is tougher than I give him credit for. He's playing soccer this summer and every Monday night we bike there. That's about a 20 minute ride each way plus an hour of soccer and he can totally do it. Many rides I've been amazed how far we can go without him tiring. At 6 he can navigate tricky turns and work the gears on his bike. Biking develops a lot more than his leg muscles. It's his balance, fine motor skills and mental quickness that are also being tested.
Another surprising reward of biking is watching and listening for what happens while we ride. Sometimes we chat. Molly particularly is super chatty and spends a lot to time yammering on about this that and everything. And if I slow down I get a rousing chorus of "go mama go" from my "co-pilot". But sometimes she just chats to herself. She makes up little songs. She comments on what she sees. And I realize that this perfect mental "downtime" for her to be in her own little world (and as passenger, it's also physical downtime for her too - wait 'til next year girly!). Gabriel too gets a bit lost in his own world when we ride. I often hear him talking and singing to himself. Of course, he's got to ride and watch what he's doing but he's an accomplished enough rider that he can relax his brain a little and just be in his own world. Watching and listening to my kids I remember what my bike meant to me when I was a kid. It was freedom both literally to make journeys on my own, but also mentally to let my mind wander, to indulge my imagination. I remember fondly each and every one of the bikes I had growing up (hello purple cruiser with the awesome handle bars and the flowered banana seat). I always rode a lot but of course that was in a different time and place. I was a rural kid so biking was a safer, easier proposition than it is for my urban babies. And that's another reason I'm so glad we bike places as a family; if we didn't, I don't think my kids would really get to ride their bikes very far or for very long.
On all our travels down the bike paths we pass lots of other riders and it always makes me feel good when people smile at our little team. For some reason people love to see kids on bikes and Gabriel gets lots of positive feedback which I know makes me feel good too. Yet another reason I love to ride. And as a Torontonian, a side benefit of every bike ride is the opportunity to be one more "bike riding left wing pinko" sticking it to our bike hating mayor. An opportunity to claim our share of these city streets. And that makes it all worthwhile on the days when hauling 36.4 lbs of preschooler etc. while riding into the wind doesn't feel so rewarding.
*bonus points to any fellow Simpson's geeks who remember the origins of this line.
May 15, 2011
it's the littlest things
Who doesn't enjoy a good list? Okay, probably lots of people but personally, I enjoy lists. I enjoy writing them and I especially enjoy ticking stuff off them. Molly seems to have inherited my fondness for lists. In fact I dictated the grocery list to her the other day and she was very attentive in writing it down (I couldn't read the finished list but that's beside the point).
So, here is a list of some of the littlest joys of parent-hood (I may be alone in some of these but others are probably pretty universal). No major events or achievements, just the funny little moments and things that give me a wee rush happiness.
Washing grass stains out of my kids clothes (other stains do not fill be me with joy but grass, for some reason, does)
Referring to my "son" or "daughter" - I always remember my old friend Julia telling me about going to get her son's birth certificate and being really overwhelmed (in a good way!) the moment she referred to her brand new baby boy as "my son".
Seeing my kid's name on their cubby or on piece of artwork at school. Molly had a brief stint in daycare just before I quit work for good and when we withdrew her (which was a happy thing!) I actually got really sad when they gave me her cubby photo to take home. I loved seeing her sweet face there on that little piece of her turf in the daycare. Same feeling when I put stuff in Gabriel's locker and I see the "Gabriel N" tag with his funny little drawing next to it.
When they say "thank you" and you can tell they actually mean it.
Another kid banging on the door asking if one of your kids can come out and play. The pleasure of this one is actually starting to wear off but for the most part it still gives me the warm fuzzies.
When your kid does/buys something for you with actual thought about what you would like. This is the big jump from assuming that EVERYONE wants plastic dinosaurs or my little ponies for their birthday. Now, they may not get this exactly right, especially at first, but when you can see the genuine intention behind the offering it's a wonderful feeling. When Gabriel was 3 he picked out a very charming bracelet for me with these giant light blue beads. As blue was his favorite colour I asked him if that's why he'd picked that one. I will never forget the sound of his little voice saying "no, it was the one I thought you'd like". Melt.
Siblings playing peacefully. Even if it only lasts for a minute. Which is good as it probably will only last for a minute. Tops.
Listening to my kids talk on the phone. Or answer the phone. This can also be heartwarming and helpful if you're making dinner and you've taught your kids how to deal with telemarketers.
There are a million more of these little moments and if you're lucky you'll find them throughout the day; there to give you a lift, maybe when you least expect it or better still, when you most need it. They don't knock your socks off like the major milestones, but major milestones can't be rushed and they don't happen everyday. So it's a good thing to find your joy in small stuff too. Otherwise you might find yourself encouraging that not quite ready to drop baby tooth or loosening up the training wheels a little too soon. And blood and tears are not going to be that memorable moment you're looking for now are they?
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