Lockdown drills....

Last week, my daughter came home from school and gave me a lesson on fire safety.

Listening to her talk about escape plans; stopping, dropping and rolling; and the importance of changing batteries on smoke detectors brings back memories of little me nagging my parents about the exact same things.

However, what is dramatically different from my early days in school is that my little daughter not only has fire drills these days; she has lockdown drills.

Yes, lockdown drills.

I remember my heart just about stopped the very first time she told me about the lockdown drill. She was in junior kindergarten at the time. She described to me how she and her little friends must go to a specific corner in her classroom, crouch down very low, and keep very quiet. (I am thankful for her teacher for glossing over why she and her little friends must do this.)

What has the world come to that a four-year-old has to practice hiding quietly in the corner?

This year, one of her instructors mentioned to the kids that someone might enter the school with a gun (I am pretty sure it was a passing comment, not meant to be fixated upon). Unfortunately, my daughter naturally jumps to the worst possible scenario for most things. So of course, she told me all about how bullets go through walls and windows, and that someone might be coming to shoot her.

I hugged her, then we talked about it, and I told her that the chances of this ever happening was extremely, extremely, slim. I told her the school was very safe, and there were lots of people to keep any bad person who wants to enter out.

I never really know what to do in situations like these. I want to have important and sometimes scary discussions with her. I do not want her to bottle her fears. On the other hand, I feel that by talking about it too much will just be a constant reminder of her fears. I asked her regular teacher what to do, and she told me to talk about it IF she brings it up in conversation.

Luckily for me, by the end of the day, my daughter, more or less, erased the lockdown drill from her memory, which is much better than the week long nightmares that resulted from last year's fire drill.

Too bad I cannot erase the lockdown drill from my memory. I just want to pick her up, hold her tight, and possibly just start homeschooling her.

I realize that I cannot and should not shelter or hide my child from all the evils in this world, but I would like her to feel that everything is made out of magic, rainbows, candies, ribbons and happy endings for just a bit longer.

Feeling Old....

Ever have one of those days when everything seems to be going pretty good? You fit into that tight pair of jeans that you never thought would see the light of day again; your house that you cleaned during the weekend, is still clean on a Tuesday; Dinner is all prepped and ready, and it is only 3:00 in the afternoon.

And then the child will inadvertently, and most likely inevitably, say or do something that will make you feel OLD... And I do not mean the usual, aching back, knees, joints, head kind of old... I am talking about mentally exhausted; when did I become my parents old...

Here are just a few examples of how my child had made me feel very old, or in her worlds “ancient”.

1. One day, I had to explain to her how payphones worked. At least she stopped saying that pioneers used payphones. Yes, darling, there was a time when phones were attached to walls, and people were not tethered to their phones....

2. What in the world did you do before Google?!?! I will never forget the complete look of shock on her face when I told my then three year old that when mommy was her age, there was no such thing as Google. No honey, not all answers to all your questions are found by typing into mommy's iPad.

3. When did I decide that 9:00 is now way too late to be out? Really, I am close to a full on panic attack if we are not home by 9:30. I still remember, back in the day, when I would leave to go out at about the same time that I am going to bed now.

4. Though this has absolutely nothing to do with my child. I do not remember the last time that I was carded. Do I really look that old now? At least I have yet to be called mam...

5. Conversations like this:
   a. Kid – Mommy, how old are you?
   b. Me – How old do you think mommy is?
   c. Kid – 50?
   d. Me – No... sigh... sigh.... (and off to the phonebook, not that my kid knows what a phonebook is, to look for a plastic surgeon....)

6. April 20^th is now ... well just April 20^th ...

7. And of course... looking at my little baby, and realizing that she is no longer a little baby, but starting to be a big girl now...

I am sure I have left some stuff out ... well in my old age, I tend to forget stuff easily...

What does your child/children do that makes you feel old?

Fashion vs Function

As I walked my little one to school on a bloody cold January morning, completely bundled up in a giant down coat that could double as a sleeping bag, I suddenly wondered when I stopped thinking about fashion and concentrated more on function.

I still remember as a teenager, I avoided wearing things like snow-pants or winter boots like the plague. In fact, the only time I ever wore my super warm Sorel boots was when I was walking my dogs, and only if it was -30C outside. I figured the only other people out at that temperature were other dog walkers (or were crazy), and they, like me, were probably too busy trying to keep their eyeballs from freezing off, but just incase they glanced my way, I did not wear my snow-pants.

And then, in my twenties, when I used to go out and did not think 9:00pm was very late, I chose freezing over wearing a big coat, granted part of the reason was because of economics – big coat required coat check, which meant less money for drinks...

I believe my turning point towards function happened one year while I was skiing. I was the proud owner of a pair of skin tight ski pants that tucked into my ski boots. I thought I looked very cool. And then I fell. I spent the rest of the day skiing with a lump of snow wedged between my shin and my ski boots. And then I realized that I was stuck with those stupid pair of pants for the rest of the season, and a giant bruise on my shins every time I fell. Yep, I learned that year that I am not the type of person who will suffer for the sake of fashion; and the next year, I bought the biggest, warmest pair of snow-pants that I could find.

These days, if I can walk around in sweatpants and a blanket, I probably would. But, that is not setting a good example either. I want my little girl to have pride in how she looks, and to dress smartly and weather appropriately. However, I really do not want her to put such importance on her appearance. She already spends more time picking out her outfits and worrying about different shirt/skirt combinations than I ever had.

I am desperately trying not to make a big deal about her clothing choices, though by trying to not make a big deal, I think I am actually turning it into an issue. For the most part, I let her pick what she wants to wear. However that does not mean we do not battle - really, is it so mean of me to try to get her to wear a pair of shoes, that she wanted in the first place, before she grows out of them?

So for now, I will try to live with the turtleneck, sweater, pantyhose, and summer dress combination, as long as it can be tucked under a nice warm snowsuit.

So which are you, fashion or function?

A song for my girl

Question: If you can pick a song for your child what would it be?

If I have to answer that question right now, it would have to be Short Skirt Long Jacket by Cake.

I kind of hope that my little girl can grow up to be a bit like the girl in this song.

A girl who can embrace her femininity, sensuality (and even sexuality, though, I would really rather not think about this for many, many, many years), beauty, and also be smart, confident, resourceful, and a girl who definitely will not take crap from anyone.

I love some of the dichotomy in this song, the yin and yang of it all. And that is what I want for my girl. I want her to be able to be and to do everything and anything; to have all possibilities opened to her. I want her to be both the princess and the knight; to be a model and a doctor; to be a ballerina and a scientist...

So as the song says....

"I want a girl with a mind like a diamond

I want a girl who knows what's best...."

and...

"She's playing with her jewelry

She's putting up her hair

She's touring the facility

And picking up slack"

and...

"I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity

Who uses a machete to cut through red tape

With fingernails that shine like justice

And a voice that is dark like tinted glass"

and

"I want my girl with a short skirt and a lonnnnnnggggg jacket."

What song will you pick for your son and/or daughter?

Halloween Costumes...

My daughter wants to be yet another Disney princess this Halloween.

I am not thrilled about it (she is a bit obsessed with princesses), but it could be worse. For one thing, I have a rather large collection of princess costumes given to me by various family members and friends, so I neither had to pay for nor make a costume. So YEAH! Also, the princess costumes we own pretty much covers her from head to toe. Double YEAH!

Nevertheless, I am still starting to worry about the age appropriateness of costumes, so much so, that I am starting to dread Halloween (or sometimes wish I had a boy around this time of year). Every year as I look down the aisles of Halloween costumes, all I see are hemlines going up and necklines going down (I also realize that I am becoming a prude). It almost seems that children costumes go from fully covered and 'cute' for the six and younger crowd and then jump right to skirts that barely cover their thighs for the seven plus crowds – almost like for every year, the skirt gets shorten by an inch. I understand that Halloween is a time for dress up and to pretend to be someone or something you are not, but I really do not want my five year old to play dress up as some little lolita.

Even if I ignore the fact that I find a lot of these costumes not age appropriate, these costumes, with minimal amount of material, is highly impractical... most kids still trick or treat. And where I live, it is bloody cold at the end of October; who the hell wants to stop getting free candy to go home because you are freezing your ass off? And, what is the point of wearing a costume if you have to cover the entire thing up with a ski jacket or risk hypothermia?

Yes, you can argue that I can always make a more age appropriate costumes for my little one, and allow her to help and to use her imagination. But I do not always have the time, have no crafting skills whatsoever, and frankly, I am lazy...

So dear retailers and costume makers, I am willing to give you my hard earned cash, but please have something available that I would want to buy my little girl – something that will allow her to still look like a little girl and not some tiny twenty year old.

a walk in the park, followed by a smack in the face with reality...

During a walk home from the park with my daughter, my little one started to talk about her best friend, AND how the two of them decided to get married someday (she told me he already asked and she replied yes, but he has not asked for my permission yet...)

I, of course, looked at her and smiled, and told her she would not be getting married for a number of years, and maybe she, or he, may change her, or his, mind before then.

She has plenty of time to think about when, and who, she is going to marry. Also, if her father has his way, she will not be marrying until she is at least 40.

I then took her little hand in mine, looked at her, and said, “Besides, you cannot legally marry until you are at least 18 years old, that will be 13 years from now.” (I skipped the part about getting parental permission or getting yourself declared an adult.)

As soon as I said the words '13 years', I immediately felt a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Though I know logically that 13 years is a long time from now, it really does not feel that far away. In a little more than a decade, my little baby will be legally a grown up!

Where did the time go? And how in the world can I stop her from growing up, or at least, prevent her from becoming a teenager...

Then she looked up at me with her big innocent eyes and told me 18 is very old – if she thinks 18 is old, what am I? Some sort of ancient hag?

She then shrugged her shoulders, and told me yeah, maybe he or she will find someone else. And, she happily skipped off to play.

It made me kind of want to freeze her at this age forever.

from this...

to this in a blink of an eye... sigh...

ring picture courtesy of Johanna Ljungblom

To correct or not to correct...

I know it is my job as a parent to teach my child, and to 'correct' her when she is doing something wrong.

However, sometimes I find it very hard to do that; especially when it comes to the way she speaks.

My little one is getting older now, and she is losing the last vestiges of her 'baby talk', so I am finding it more and more difficult to correct her pronunciation of certain words (I do try to correct grammar, though that might actually do more harm than good).

I just REALLY miss hearing her say lellow (instead of yellow).

We are trying to help her communicate better with words so that other adults have a chance of understanding her, and are actively trying to remove the 'likes and okays' from her sentences to try to avoid the “like okay mom, like okay, you are so like not cool...”

However, I just cannot let go of her cute little 'words'. It feels almost like I am saying goodbye to my baby, and I am not sure if I am ready to say hello to my little big girl yet.

So, the only thing I have left these days are my “isgusting's” (instead of disgusting), and I plan to protect them as long as I can. And, I do not care who it 'isgusts'.

Making the Magic Last

My little girl is convinced she is a fairy. I believe she is sometimes a evil little gnome... but most of the time, I have to agree, there is something quite magical about her, at least to me.

Since school started, she has convinced herself that with the help of some magic words usually “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo; Abracadabra,” she is able to change red streetlights green.

I thought about explaining to her that the light is going to turn green whether she says the words or not, or that magic spells work about as well as repeatedly pressing the crosswalk button... but then I stopped myself. Why stop her from seeing magic everywhere?

I am going to try and keep my little magical fairy for a bit longer.

Conquering one fear at a time...

So we made it. She made it back from her field trip alive and well (see last post), and she had a wonderful adventure.

I made it too! I dropped her off at school without any incident, and I did not even hang around to watch them get on the school bus.

I find it very hard to not impose my fears onto her. So while images of lost little children and car crashes danced through my head, I continued to put on my happy face and told her that she will have a great time. I do not think she noticed my fears, at least I hope not; she was smiling and excited the entire time.

Okay, there was one little cloud that crossed her face.

I decided to put a note with her school's name and phone number, along with her father's and my contact information into her pocket. Of all the crazy scary scenarios, the losing her school group was the most likely. Even my husband agreed that this was not an unreasonable safety precaution, after all, she was going somewhere filled with other little kids, and my child is (A) quite little, and mainly (B) gets distracted very easily.

I do not think the idea of getting lost ever crossed her mind until that point. I reassured her that this was a just in case thing, and we had a quick talk about finding another teacher, or a police officer if she could not find her group. Then I told her to stick to her friends like glue.

It is hard to do these safety talks without scaring and scarring her, because like me, my little one tends to jump to the worse case scenario. So, when I said quick safety talk, I meant it. I did not want her to dwell on it too long, and we quickly moved right back onto how much fun the trip is going to be.

I want my daughter to be curious, strong, brave and confident. I want her to explore the world without fear (but cautiously, of course). Now if only someone can help me be strong, brave, and confident and tell me how to let her go.

Oh! the added plus for this trip; she had half an hour more of school! Maybe field trips are a good thing after all.

Fighting my Fears

I always thought of myself as being one of those parents who allowed their kids to explore the world with minimal supervision.

Helicopter parent, I am not. I am kind of surprise that the school has not called the cops on me considering how many bruises my kid has on her sometimes – there are times when my kid's love of climbing exceeds her ability to climb that something, and yes I let her fall. BUT, I do make sure that she will not get really hurt, i.e. break anything.

I always believed that giving my child a sense of freedom and the ability to make her own decisions (within limits), and thus the opportunity of making and learning from her own mistakes is important. She has so far mastered the making mistakes, but is a little slower on the learning from it part.

And, I always thought that I was pretty good at controlling my fears and not letting the possibility of something going horribly wrong to affect my decisions.

Well, now all that is about to be thrown out the window... the nearest bus window... you see, my child is about to go on her first school trip; on a school bus; without me. Yes, she is going in a vehicle, with someone else watching her (and a whole bunch of other four and five year olds), and the vehicle does not have a five-point-harnesses system, or some other form of restraining device built in.

I know logically that the chances of something going wrong is very slim. And, there are other adults keeping an eye on her. BUT the other adults are not me.

I am currently trying very hard to ignore all those horrible scenarios that just keep popping into my head (we are talking everything from bus accidents, to the kids being taken hostage, to my little girl getting lost during the trip). So now, I am fighting my urge to just keep her at home with me, and maybe covering her up in bubble wrap and locking her in her room.

The thing is, I am not even sure where this fear and sense of dread is coming from. Until now, I have never been worried about leaving her somewhere. I was never one of those parents who got teary eyed at school/camp drop offs. I was the one who quickly waved and then ran to enjoy my couple of hours of freedom.

Maybe I am afraid this time because I am being forced to acknowledge that she is no longer a baby. This time she is going somewhere without me.

So, I hope my nerves will hold up, as I keep telling myself that everything will be fine, and it will be great. She will have a wonderful time.

And, I will keep in mind that at least I will not be trapped in a metal box with a bunch of excited four and five year olds.

What do you do when you feel scared, but know logically that there is nothing to be afraid of?

picture courtesy of Sam LeVan

Favourite Times

I saw a question couple of days ago asking: if you can freeze time, at what age or stage would you freeze your child?

And, it got me thinking about and looking at my daughter. I was shocked at how much she has grown, both literally (I swore those pants fit her better last week) and figuratively.

My little one is four now, and I am fascinated by this age and stage. One minute she appears to be so mature, so wise; and then the next minute, I swear she suddenly turned 14, and has become some eye rolling teenager; and just a quick moment after that, she is my little baby again. It is quite an adventure to be experiencing all these stages simultaneously, and seeing such big emotions and reactions coming from such a little body.

But then thinking back, there were highs and lows in all the ages and stages that we have gone through together so far.

I remember I loved being pregnant. It was the only time when I did not have to share my little girl, for nine months, she was all mine. On the other hand, I really did not enjoy almost throwing up every time I brushed my teeth – do you know how much it sucks to brush your teeth, feel nausea, throw up, and then have to brush your teeth again, followed by more nausea, it was some cruel never ending cycle... I was also not particularly thrilled about not seeing my feet, and the stretch marks suck too.

After she was born, I watched her grow and be more aware of her environment. With every day, every week, and every month that passed, she became more and more fun and more interactive with her father and me. And by the time she was one, she started to walk, and can even say a few words! I never thought I could love someone so much. I also never thought my back could hurt so much. And, how in the world was she able to tell when I was not paying attention, and wait until that exact moment to do something dangerous? Also, I missed being able to put her down and finding her again in the exact spot where I placed her.

And then in a blink of an eye, she was two. A very talkative little two year old at that. She loved telling me about her imaginary dogs, and friends, and pointing to things and asking lots of questions. It was amazing to see the world through her little inquisitive eyes; she was just fascinated by everything! On the other hand, one can only answer the question: WHY? so many times each day. Also, at about this age, my daughter discovered her favourite word is NO!

Wow, and before I know it, she was three. She started going to pre-school, so I got a couple of mornings off, YEAH! I think this was when we both learned to be more independent. And, my little girl was definitely independent, or maybe just stubborn. At this point, she started to help a bit more around the house, like setting her own spot at the table, sorting through her laundry, and putting her toys away (okay, throwing it in a basket, which was good enough for me). She was also toilet trained!!! So no more diapers!!! But independence had its draw backs too, by insisting on doing EVERYTHING “self”, it sometimes took us three times as long to do anything. For the most part, I did not mind, but it was a little bit annoying if you were trying to leave the house on time. Also at three, my little one was starting to talk a lot more. The problem with a very vocal child, was that sometimes their vocal skills were aimed at me, sigh... yep, my little angel was starting to argue and talk back at us. I am so not looking forward to the teenage years.

And now, we have come full circle, right back to now.

So, I guess, in this long rambling post, to answer the original question: I do not think I want to freeze time, as my favourite stage is NOW! Yes, there are things that suck, but for the most part, I love her to bits, and raising her is an exciting, and wonderful adventure (for the both of us I hope).

Do you have a favourite stage/age for your child?

Barbie dolls and Tattoos

I honestly do not know what is the big deal about the new, 'controversial,' Barbie doll in the market right now?

The Tokidoki Barbie, with her pink hair, leopard pattern leggins, short skirt, silver stilettos, and TATTOOS, is causing quite a stir. Yep, this Barbie got herself inked.

I really have no problems with tattoos (most of the time, I have much bigger

issues with how Barbie is dressed, but that is another issue completely), especially since I have three myself. And, because I am inked, I feel that I would be a hypocrite to ban my daughter from someday, way off in the future, to get a tattoo of her own. Yep, I said it; I am not against my daughter getting a tattoo someday (and hopefully she will never read this entry).

HOWEVER, I am against stupid thoughtless tattoos.

I believe tattoos are highly personal, should tell a story, and have a deep meaning for the person. My last tattoo, for example, was to commemorate my daughter's birth (no, I did not get it right after she was born; I waited). I knew I wanted something that will always remind me of my little baby, so with the help of my sister's tattoo artist friend, we designed a tattoo together. Okay, she designed, I said yes or no...

I have absolutely no regrets about getting my tattoo(s), because none of them were spur of the moment things (my second one was designed by my sister), and I did not get them because I thought it was pretty, or thought it would be 'cool' to do. Each tattoo says something about my life.

So, I hope when the time comes, my daughter will also understand this. Tattoos are very permanent. There is nothing wrong with them, but you should think long and hard about what you want on your body, where you want it, and most importantly why.

And yes, I am also aware that there are a lot of studies out there that say people still view people with body art negatively – less intelligent and more sexually promiscuous. I try not to judge people based just on appearances, but I understand there is a time and place for displaying yourself. I probably would not want to send my child to a teacher who shows off a full tattoo sleeve, but I would be equally offended if she had a teacher who insist on wearing tight, low cut tops (my child teacher does neither). That is just inappropriate. So, I think perception is about more than tattoos and piercing, it is how you present yourself in a situation.

And as for the less intelligent thing, I think there are lots of smart people with tattoo. Carl Zimmer just finished a book called Science Ink: Tattoos of the Science Obsessed – it is a collection of science tattoos, and some of these are on people with PhD's about things that I cannot even pronounced. (I come from a science, and realize some of these people spend days in the field with no shower, so I guess physical appearances are not always top priority when it comes to the science community. I also worked in the arts, where it would be strange to not have a tattoo)

Now, I have one thing to say to the parents that buy a $50, collector addition Barbie doll for their kids to play with... Would you like to adopt me? I am pretty clean, and I am toilet trained.

September!

Wow! It is September already!

When I was younger, many eons ago... September to me was kind of like New Year's. It is full of new promises, and new beginnings, after all it is a new school year. Usually nothing new happens, aside from some new clothes, and new school supplies, but how I love those new school supplies...

This year, I am experiencing those familiar feelings again, but this time it is for and through someone else.

My little one will be starting school. She is very excited to finally go to 'big girl' school. I am excited for her to face new challenges, and learn new things. But at the same time, I am a little frightened. I am scared that she might have trouble making friends, have to deal with rejection, and I am especially terrified that she might get bullied, though god help the child that messes with mine...

I know these things are all part of growing up, but must it happen so soon?

Time

I don't believe it! Summer is almost over! Where has the time gone?

I had so many things planned in May that I wanted to do this summer... did I get through my to do list? Of course not. Do I ever get through my to do lists... rarely... but occasionally it happens, just like occasionally we get two full moons in a month.

But honestly, it feels like at times things happen so fast, and

sometimes it feels like time is not moving at all.

For example, this morning I woke up and once again it hits me that my little one will be starting kindergarten in a couple of weeks. Yes, kindergarten. When did my baby grow up? Wasn't I just changing diapers yesterday? When am I going to find time to do back to school shopping? What in the world are you suppose to buy for kindergarten anyways? And then I remember when I was waiting for the result of my pregnancy test, in my bathroom, and those two minutes felt like a lifetime.

Fast or slow... I guess everything averages out over time...

Picture courtesy of: chris gilbert http://www.sxc.hu/profile/iotdfi

To my little darling...

Dear Little One,

I cannot believe that you are another year older! You are becoming such a big girl now, sorry, young lady! I barely remember what life was like before you. I do vaguely recall more sleep and being able to stay out past 9:00. But now, I will not trade you for anything in the world!

So my darling, here are some birthday promises that I would like to make to you. I promise that we will not always agree - I have a feeling this will get worse as you get older - but I will always try to keep an open mind and to listen to you. I promise that I will not be there to catch every fall, but I will always be there to help pick you up. And, most importantly, I PROMISE to LOVE you forever and ever (even if you do drive me crazy).

And here is my birthday wish for you: I wish you to grow up to be happy in whatever it is that you decide to do (even if it is becoming a fairy princess and not a lawyer...).

I still do not believe how big you are getting. And though I miss my little girl (I definitely DO NOT miss changing diapers), I am very much looking forward to meeting the little person you are becoming.

Love,

Mom