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.

Time and Food

It has been more than a month now since school started; my family's (okay my) routine has somewhat been established; and yet, I sit here and wonder: what it is exactly that I do all day?

I know I am not sitting around eating candy, watching soap operas or reading trashy magazines (okay, I do that sometimes, but definitely not too often), but at the same time, I do not feel like I am actually accomplishing anything.

I tidy and clean, and then the small hurricane comes home from school and the house returns to its normal chaotic state. I thought I would write more, but this is the first time I have written in months. I also thought I would exercise a bit more, but then I would feel guilty if I moved the spider that has made my running shoes her new home.

Seriously, where does the time go? Now that my kid is in school all day, I thought I would have so much more free time. I actually thought that I would be bored, as I am the type of person who cannot sit still for very long (unfortunately my daughter has inherited that trait from me). Yet it still feels like the moment I sit down, I have to get right back up to pick her up from school again.

The only thing I can come up with is my life now revolves around food. I am now forever trying to think of what to make for lunch and dinner; going out to buy the ingredients to make the meals, and then coming home to prep the meals; oh! and let us not forget the actually cooking part. Oh! And then cleaning up after....

I applaud all those women who can work, take care of their families and prepare meals! I do not think I am programed to do this (dealing with food part). I lived on a diet of instant dinners throughout my entire university life! The most cooking I did was boiling water to make Kraft Dinner, instead of using the microwave, and tossing together a bag of pre-package salad. I would have never imagined that food would be taking over my life.

I would appreciate any and all mealtime tips, especially if it means that I can have some free time to go eat my candy and watch some trashy talk shows.

Now, excuse me while I am off to prepare lunch....

selective memory...

When I was in school, I once took a film course, and in one of the units we talked about non-linear story telling – when you tell a story out of sequence, like the movie Memento (though I argue that Memento is a linear story, just told more or less backwards...)

Anyway, do you know who are the best non-linear story tellers? CHILDREN!

My kid was recently invited to a movie birthday party. She had a great time!

Though trying to get her to explain to me the plot of the movie was like pulling teeth from a fully awake tiger... And, it was not just her, we were driving her friend home as well, and he offered little help in deciphering what actually happened in the movie. The two of them just remembered random bits of the movie; completely out of order, of course. Basically, they only told me the parts they liked.

This got me to think if young children's memory of their daily lives is similar to how they remember movies and television shows – that is they only remember things in some random order, and only recall things that they like. Or as Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice once said “Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”

This may explain why my daughter can recall every embarrassing moment that happened to me in the last three years and yet cannot seem to remember to sit properly or to eat faster, as I often have to remind her during dinner.

Oh! And my favourite repeated lecture – “Please, think before you speak or act.” I swear, I want to tape that particular 'talk' and whenever I need it, I can just hit the play button and walk away so that I do not have to hear the sound of my own voice again. Maybe, my kid honestly just do not remember these lectures chats, or lost the context associated with these talks because they do not make her happy.

Though I am not happy with her selective memory, I am also a bit jealous at the same time. I am not the type of person who can live in the now. I am always thinking about the results/consequences of my actions (and sometimes future actions), or regretting my past mistakes (yes. sometimes I have trouble sleeping at night).

So sometimes, I look at my daughter when she is playing and think that it must be nice to be able to just enjoy the moment, and maybe later that night, forget all about the bills, the chores, the worries, and just fall asleep thinking about the fun things we did today.

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?

Post Mother's Day thoughts....

Nothing quite says Happy Mother's Day like an early morning scream from your child's bedroom. The good news was that she was not hurt; she just had an 'accident'. Really, does the child not realize she has a father as well...

The last time my daughter had an 'accident' was more than a year ago... so why Mother's Day of all days...

Since I was up early, I started to think about if this was what I pictured motherhood to be... while grumbling and swearing under my breath as I loaded the laundry machine.

Actually to everyone's surprise, including mine, and especially my mother (which does not say much about my mother's opinion of me), I LOVE being a mom.

I love spending time with my daughter. I love watching her grow, do, and learn new things. I love watching the ever changing expressions on her little face. I love watching her create and make stuff. I love the hundreds and thousands of ugly crafts that she brings home from school – even if most of them end up in the recycling. I even sometimes love it when she is being a little bit naughty, as she finds really interesting and creative ways to be naughty (but that will be our secret)

However, I still have moments of doubt, of what in the world did I sign myself up for. And, moments when I think about handing in my resignation.

I admit there are times when my child frustrates me to the point that I just want to yell to her that “I QUIT! You think you know better, fine, you are on your own kid.”

I think I might have actually done that once or a dozen times... I am not proud of this. I know there are better ways of communicating my displeasure than to give my child an abandonment complex. But, I have a bad temper, and though I try very hard to control it, sometimes I still explode. I do apologize to her after, and explain that mommy did not mean the things she said, but mommy was very upset, and when you are upset, sometimes you end up saying things to hurt people. Usually by then I am calm enough to talk it out again.

So this mother's day, I will make my daughter this promise (I am probably repeating my new year's promises). I will try very hard to never say I will leave her ever again, at least not indefinitely – I make no promises to stop threatening to send her to her grandparents' or aunt's house overnight until I calm down. I promise to try to calm down and to spend more time listening and less time yelling/nagging at her. And, I promise to try to be the best mommy that I can be for her. And if this does not work, I am packing my bags and moving to Hawaii...

Does anyone have a suggestion to help me calm down before I start yelling at my little girl? So far, I am resorting to 'mommy timeouts' – I lock myself in my room for 5 min (preferably with wine) to attempt to calm down before dealing with her again.

My latest pet peeve...

Oh, I have many things that annoy me, but this is the one currently stuck in my head.

Contractions in books for kids (like early readers, for kids seven and under). I just don't like it.

Back in my old school days, you know, the days when one had to walk up hill to and from school, contractions were a big No No during English class. It was considered lazy to shorten words; and really, we were, essentially, only dropping one or two letters at the most, so why not just write the whole word out.

In today's world of texting and tweeting, kids are growing up without even using vowels half the time. I admit I am guilty of doing this too; you have to ditch something when trying to fit a thought into 140 – 160 characters. Therefore, I feel it is especially important to preserve proper writing in kid's book; to show kids how to actually spell words and form sentences.

I also understand the concept that we often read with our ears - that is sentences written in a conversational tone are easier to read and to comprehend. However, I do not see why we should make everything in life easy. What is wrong with being a little bit challenged?

Besides, I find contractions make learning to read more difficult. My daughter is starting to sound out words, and in order to sound out words you need letters and VOWELS. You try sounding out doesn't.

So publishers of children's books, please stop using contractions. And writers, remember you often get paid per word; so is two words not better than one?

Fragility...

Every once in awhile, something so devastating happens that I am jolted into remembering how very fragile life is.

It happened yesterday in Boston, and it happened in December in Newtown.

I did not have a very good day yesterday. My daughter and I had a disagreement, basically, I completely lost my temper and yelled at her, a lot.

Little did I know, two hours later, hundreds of people, who were probably enjoying a wonderful day in Boston, had their lives suddenly changed forever when the first explosion happened.

My 'bad day' and my little argument with my daughter suddenly seemed so silly and inconsequential. All I wanted to do was to hold on to her as tight as I could.

My heart goes out to the people in Boston, and to all of us who lose a little piece of our innocence whenever a horrendous event like this happens.

It is unfortunate that often it is tragedies that reminds us to cherish lives. To spend quality time together. To remember that we love each other.