Staff beats Staph any day.

First of all, much thanks to my sister & niece for coming to pick up the kids and treat them to supper at the cantine while I was in a meeting Friday night. (They could have stayed here under Noah's surveillance, but it was a nice time for them). Much appreciation, Brenda & Amanda, next time, you'll have to accept the money I left ! The kids very much enjoy the time spent with you all. I must admit that it gives me great comfort to know that extended family love my children as I do theirs.

Hannah deserves kudos for volunteering not only at the set- up Friday afternoon for the school's bazaar, but also for working the entire 8 hours on Saturday selling items for her class table. When I picked her up at 4:00, her teacher said what a great worker she was, and how she dickered & bartered. (that's my girl ! )  She also won a baseball cap in the drawing. I won nothing. But unknown to me, she attended with cash in hand, so she also purchased *sigh* an enormous stuffed Yeti..& 2 pair of shoes. She wore the white heels ("I disinfected them Mom") to supper last night with her father...even put on a dress and came to me asking how I felt about white heels with a black dress. I told her, better go with the black & silver flats..but she wanted the 'click' of the heels. Hey, I was 11 once , so I get that. She'd draped her sweater over her arm in such a ladylike manner that I wasn't to fuss over white shoes with black dress.

Meanwhile, during her volunteering, her Dad went over to say Hi, and came back here afterward to continue his objectives, laughing. Told me how proudly Hannah held up her tag "Look Dad, I am 'Staff' " :D

When I picked her up, it was not beyond my notice that all the children who helped had their credentials slung by a string around their necks, but Hannah had clipped her's to her front jeans pocket.

 Keep on banging to a different drummer Hannah-Banana/Hollywood. Blue tartan pleated skirt, jean jacket, purple tuque, red leggings, one blue striped glove & one plain grey.

Have I mentionned that she's recently changed her long-held career choice from Urology to Fashion design?  Hats might be making a comeback, ladies. Scarves as belts certainly will be. Interestingly enough, my late Aunt Sunny was a fashion designer & both she & my mother were models for a brief period. My mother more on a Channel line, Sunny was actually one of the poster girls for RAF recruitment during WW2. I'd love to have one of those posters ! Cliff told me he remembered one hanging in Gunter's & believed it perhaps to be in the attic, but it proved to not be there.

I'm not a bacteriaphobe, but i'm careful & glad that the children understand to also be careful. Cause being staff certainly beats a staphlyococcus infection.

Mothers.

My children never knew my mother (Grammy) in a physical sense, she'd passed away from ovarian cancer 4 + years before even Noah's birth. Nor did they truly know my mother in law (Grandmama) although Noah has memories of her, they were very young when breast cancer took away their only remaining grandmother.

 I used to bring the kids every year to my own mother's grave. I'd spend some time pruning the rose bushes my brother planted, tidy up the area, chase the kids when they wandered too far...spend some time wandering myself, looking at the oldest stones.

A few years ago though, I just stood shivering in a late spring snow, the infamous Melbourne Ridge wind blowing down across the hill toward the St. Francis valley. There I stood. Staring at a piece of granite with "Amazing Grace" chiselled at the top. Her name below. Dates. A lifetime of existence carved precisely in stone with really nothing to say.

I took a good look around at my own children and how they felt about this tradition. What I saw was a lack of interest in some for stones and grass and fences. In another, what I understood was a concern for not causing upset to me. Then I turned back to the grave and what I saw was a stone, some plantings, some grass. And I understood. She's not here. She lives inside me, she lives in the stories I tell my children.

Since that day, I have continued the other tradition that I hold with my kids. I rejoice in having been given the opportunity to raise and hopefully release onto society 3 well-rounded independant adults. I pay special attention to make a great meal. I WILL & do wear my macaroni necklaces and dolphin bracelets. And I, to the utter delight of my children, tell stories of both their grandmothers and of my Nanny.

"More Mom, tell us about the time that Nanny saw her brother through the window... no-no tell us that sad story about the sleigh lady who came to tell Grammy that her brother died in Japan..it's my turn!! Tell us about the quilts...And who was the BEST at doing jigsaws? Grand-mama! And did Grand-mama ever scare the skin off you when she played hide & seek in the shower and you went in to go pee! Did Grand-mama hurt, Mom? Did Grammy hurt? Which one was the best knitter who never dropped a stitch? Grammy. Who taught you how to pick up a dropped stitch? Grand-mama. Who taught you to embroider? Nanny. Which one again was the pie lady? Who laughed like an owl? Why are my eyes blue & theirs are brown? Where in England or Scotland ? Are you going to leave your recipe box to me in the will? Am I dying soon? "

 ad infinitum.

Never tell me that children don't enjoy history.

And THAT is where our mothers live.

Quote of the Day:  I'd like to come up with something witty and interesting but it's just not coming to me so i'll stick with my standard "I still have many years left to entirely screw it all up. It will be a success to do something so wrong, so right."

I don't know, but let's find out.

This is to honour every teacher, parent, mentor or meaningful adult who ever told a child that their questions weren't stupid.

I had such a teacher in high school, Nick. He remains a great friend of mine to this day. First teacher ever to tell me that my natural inquisitiveness was a quality rather than an annoyance.

Sometimes things pop into my head, or someone asks me a question and I can't rest until I know. The entire Encyclopedia Britanica used to be housed in my bedroom but it was much to search through.

One that bothered me for months was " There is a plane flying over when a volcano erupts & it is heard on the plane. If you are flying the speed of sound over an area where a siasmic event occurs that is heard 100 miles away, will you hear that for 100 miles?"

But, I like tapioca. So one day I asked my mother what tapioca WAS? Like seriously what IS tapioca? She said wow, well, I think it's a starch?? Look at the box.

I looked at the box and it said , Ingredients: Tapioca.

Pissed me off royally, I couldn't find one person who knew what Tapioca was...Enter the internet, stage Wisconsin, (Brand spanking new) at our brand spanking new company. Dispatcher guy bragging that " I can find out anything about anything in the world, right here just by typing in this box"

So up I piped with "Okay, what is Tapioca?" And he just froze. He was like wow?! What IS Tapioca? Then he typed it in & VOILA! 

Today the "What is Tapioca Crown 2011" goes to Hannah, for asking me "What is Iodine"

I tell my kids they are always free to ask questions and if I don't know (which I often don't) I say "I don't know, but let's find out"

I often hear parents complain that parenting is a thankless job, that it isn't rewarded. Sometimes I also get frustrated, I admit. It certainly isn't a renumerated employment if you use a monetary scale.

Parenting rewards come through our children's successes, their achievments and sometimes you get the most heart-swelling instant rewards. I got one of those today.
Was telling the kids about a friend's experience with her son which made me giggle. As it happens, this friend's son is also named Isaac and is the same age as our Isaac and also has autism.

Noah asked me about the friend, if she was also similar to me in any way?

I said " No, no clearly she is nothing like me, she's educated and is an artist, while I am not artistic."

Noah said "Well Mom. You paint with words. So ya, you are an artist."

Need I say how flattered I was by such a statement?
That and their accomplishments are all the salary I need to make any sacrifice worthwhile.

Something to call to mind when they are bickering and driving me bonkers.

Now you see it, now you don't.

I feed whole peanuts to the blue jays in winter. Every morning I open the office window and put a few on the sill and within minutes they're gone. If I forget, the  jays come to the kitchen window and yell "hey, hey" at me.

So last week I figured I'll put out the last all in one shot--picked up the bag and lo & behold it was lighter than the day before..looked the bag over and found it had 2 holes chewed in it...uh-oh.

Last evening I was sitting reading in my solarium and a movement caught my eye. Sure enough, a mouse scuttled behind my philodendron. I called Hannah to come see.."look behind that plant" She moved the pot slightly and out runs Mickey. He ran under the heat register. I jumped into the kitchen, grabbed a plastic container and waited at the other end of the heater, Hannah shooed him from her end and he ran right into the container and right back out again, into the dining room and behind the china cabinet. By then we'd drawn a crowd.

Noah kneeling in front of the cabinet, Isaac standing back a few feet.
Again Hannah shooed him out and he ran again directly into my container, I slapped my clog on top quickly but it was too small and he jumped out of the only tiny space..right to the floor and right under Noah, well...HE JUMPED AND SQUEALED LIKE A GIRL !

Our furry little friend ran across the floor and behind the piano, marvelous, the only 500 lb piece of furniture in the room!

Meanwhile Noah's asking me," what are you gonna do with him Mom if you catch him?"

"I'm going to flush him down the toilet"

Well can you imagine the fuss? "Oh no you're not, there is no way i'll let you do that i'll catch him myself and put him outside, better he freeze or starve than to suffer a death by drowning, that's the worst way in the world to die"

So Mahatma goes in the basement and gets himself some work gloves.

I manage to push the piano a foot away from the wall, making a lovely scratch on the floor , grr. I say to Noah, "look, see his tail peeking out? grab him by his tail"

The movement makes Mickey turn and high tail it right straight into my container and right back out again. Then he disappears.

Hannah and I took advantage of the chance to dust and vacuum behind the piano.

This morning there is one dead mouse in the trap *insert smiley face here* but he must be disposed of before Gandhi is up. By the way afterward he claimed not to have screamed.  Isaac said "yeah you did, screamed like a girl." Noah said, well he ran over my bare foot. *shiver*

My Mom: You never have one mouse. If you have one mouse you have many.

I'm innocent, I swear.

Am making Hannah's Birthday cake today and it reminds me of this great story my mom told me.

Mom belonged to the Presbyterian Women's group & every month they took turns baking a cake for everyone in that month who had a birthday. They'd have one special Sunday a month when there was a potluck lunch after church with the cake to celebrate those people born in that month.
So one year when my brother was almost 3 Mom had the responsibility to make August's cake.
Sunday morning after breakfast she got ready for church & came back into her kitchen to pick up her beautiful 3 layer chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and to her utter horror the entire center of the cake was missing! She could see the little- handed scoop shapes & a trail of crumbs...
She followed the trail of crumbs, out of the kitchen, up the stairs, down the hall to the boys' bedroom closet. She opened the closet door & there sat Tim. Face covered in chocolate frosting, fingers licked but still full of icing & crumbs.
She said "Tim, did you touch the cake"
And with an innocent chocolate incrusted grin he said "No, I swear I didn't"
His Birthday is in August & Presbyterians are pretty forgiving.

Edible Pens,Headshake.

The kids are watching The Daily Planet. There was a segment on "edible pens", similar to candy necklaces..but you can write with them & as you are thinking I guess, you chew the end.
I said "oh candy necklaces rocked!" (remember, Estelle? lol)
And Noah said this: "Ya, but DUDE..."
Dude? Dude? did my son just call me Dude? Not even Dudette, but Dude.
..."these rock more than candy necklaces, you can eat the pen & the ink"...
Yes but did you just call me dude?
Noah, Dude, we don't call our mom Dude. nuff said.
Daily Planet is done, now they are back to fighting again.

Quote of the day, from my mom: They were fighting, so I threw them out into the snowbank.
 (I like her thinking)