Twas the day after Christmas
And throughout chez McLean
The house was in shambles,
The children, insane.
Noisy toys echo down and upstairs
Nerf bullets sting bottoms but nobody cares.
Boxes are stacked, poised to fall on poor Farley
The mass of recycling truly is gnarly!
Transformers and RC cars are keeping Ben happy
So the clothes and books his mom bought seem slightly less crappy.
There are ribbons and paper and gift bags aplenty!
With new clothes and bling Carmen looks about twenty!
Between the presents and chocolates and the constant snacking
One thing is for sure – this Christmas ain’t lacking.
Happy Holidays to you from Bryce and Ren
And of course the two monsters, Carmen and Ben.
May you dry out from the parties, embrace shortbread weight,
And may 2011 be totally great!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
November 5
My son turns five today. It's hard to believe it's been so long since he showed up, nine days early, to turn our world on its ear. And every year I celebrate the angel that entered the world on November 5 and I take a minute to remember one who left it the same day more than 20 years before.
My Grandma Jean died on November 5, 1982. I was only 9 but I remember her so clearly: her laugh, the songs she sang, her gift of Smurfs and Smarties every time we visited, her doing handstands against the fence, her amazing food. I think of her a lot, wishing she could have watched us grow up, could have met my kids, could have had the chance to really enjoy life. She deserved that. So did we. Grandma Jean was a force, and she was taken too soon.
I like to think that Ben and all of his energy, his strength, his sweetness rushed to be born to balance out what was lost on that date, and he's doing a pretty good job of it! Happy Birthday, little man. Great-Grandma Jean would be proud!
My Grandma Jean died on November 5, 1982. I was only 9 but I remember her so clearly: her laugh, the songs she sang, her gift of Smurfs and Smarties every time we visited, her doing handstands against the fence, her amazing food. I think of her a lot, wishing she could have watched us grow up, could have met my kids, could have had the chance to really enjoy life. She deserved that. So did we. Grandma Jean was a force, and she was taken too soon.
I like to think that Ben and all of his energy, his strength, his sweetness rushed to be born to balance out what was lost on that date, and he's doing a pretty good job of it! Happy Birthday, little man. Great-Grandma Jean would be proud!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Hockey
It was bound to happen but now it's official. I'm a hockey mom. Ben started hockey last weekend at 4 years old. He was out there in his full gear, leaning on his stick for balance, showing off his Flames jersey, inching his way across the ice. He was so cute (other than the few tears about ill-fitting socks and then ill-suited games) and he had fun out there. Of course he wants to PLAY hockey not just learn to skate but he's starting to realize that he has to do one before the other. There were some kids skating like pros out there, which made me feel like we should have been teaching him long ago. There were also some kids who couldn't stand up or get back up once they fell. He's somewhere in between. I know he'll be fine out there. He's ready. I'm just not sure I am.
I started thinking, as my butt began to freeze to the bleachers, that I was going to be out here early Saturday mornings for a decade or two. I'm going to watch my little boy learn to skate, learn to check and take a hit, and probably watch him get into a scrap or two if he's anything like his father on the ice. I'll most likely curse the 'hockey parents' that freak out about bad calls and bad coaching and celebrate the boys' victories, both on the scoreboard and off. I'm going to watch my baby grow up -- granted measured by all the new,expensive gear that it'll take to keep up with him, but well worth the investment!
He shuffled off the ice for the first time a better skater than when he shuffled onto it and I was so proud that he'd gotten out there and was eager to go back again. So I'll pack Carmen and I a warm blanket and cushion and to-go mugs and we'll gladly sit and watch the show.
I started thinking, as my butt began to freeze to the bleachers, that I was going to be out here early Saturday mornings for a decade or two. I'm going to watch my little boy learn to skate, learn to check and take a hit, and probably watch him get into a scrap or two if he's anything like his father on the ice. I'll most likely curse the 'hockey parents' that freak out about bad calls and bad coaching and celebrate the boys' victories, both on the scoreboard and off. I'm going to watch my baby grow up -- granted measured by all the new,expensive gear that it'll take to keep up with him, but well worth the investment!
He shuffled off the ice for the first time a better skater than when he shuffled onto it and I was so proud that he'd gotten out there and was eager to go back again. So I'll pack Carmen and I a warm blanket and cushion and to-go mugs and we'll gladly sit and watch the show.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
School Time
Carmen got up early this morning. She NEVER gets up early. She was just too excited to sleep. She wanted to get to school, to take on grade two. She got dressed in her graphic T, blue pleated uniform-type skirt, and knee-high socks, brushed her hair (which she insisted I blow dry with a roller brush last night)and even cleaned her glasses. She was ready. Over breakfast she wondered who she'd be sitting with, what they'd do on the first day, if there was going to be any new kids in her class, and if they would be doing the Christmas concert or the spring one this year. She wanted to come home for lunch to tell me all about her day -- but only this once. Then she wanted to stay at school with her friends.
We gathered up her new indoor shoes, backpack, and snack bag and headed outside. Before we left I insisted on the first-day-of-school picture, which she happily mugged for. As I snapped the picture and headed toward her school, I couldn't help noticing how grown up she looks all of a sudden. How grown up she acts sometimes. She grabbed the dog's leash and raced ahead of us, Benny not far behind her. I know it won't be long before she's walking herself to school... but I'm glad it's not yet.
We gathered up her new indoor shoes, backpack, and snack bag and headed outside. Before we left I insisted on the first-day-of-school picture, which she happily mugged for. As I snapped the picture and headed toward her school, I couldn't help noticing how grown up she looks all of a sudden. How grown up she acts sometimes. She grabbed the dog's leash and raced ahead of us, Benny not far behind her. I know it won't be long before she's walking herself to school... but I'm glad it's not yet.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Apples and Oranges
Apples and Oranges
When I had Carmen, it was like magic. She slept well, ate well, was easy going, and she grew into a sweet and smart toddler. When I got pregnant again I thought I had the tiger by the tail. I knew what I was doing; after all, I had done this all before. Like so many times since, I discovered how wrong a person can be when it comes to trying to figure out raising children.
I found myself with a fussy little baby boy who cried for no apparent reason. Where his sister had slept like an angel in her car seat, Ben chose that time to scream bloody murder until we reached our destination. Carmen and I skated through feedings and diaper changes without so much as a rash. Ben and I, on the other hand, were plagued by painful diaper rashes and thrush that not only turned breastfeeding into a toe-curling, miserable experience but also stained his mouth (and his clothes) purple from the gentian violet treatment—just in time for his first Christmas pictures.
Now Carmen is an independent, confident, nurturing almost-second-grader. She loves to read, do crafts and play games. She loves to help out in the kitchen and worries about stains on her clothes. Ben is happiest with club in hand smashing whatever happens to venture into his path, all the while wearing his watermelon and berry stains on his shirt like a badge. He can’t resist kicking or karate chopping toys and people alike as he passes by. He peed in his Crocs one day and in a bucket in the backyard another – something his sister would never dream of doing even if she had the equipment to do so.
I never imagined kids that came from the same mix of DNA could be so different. If I have taken nothing else from the last seven years it has been that comparing my two kids is like trying to compare apples and oranges. My little “fruits” are both sweet and fantastic but totally unique. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When I had Carmen, it was like magic. She slept well, ate well, was easy going, and she grew into a sweet and smart toddler. When I got pregnant again I thought I had the tiger by the tail. I knew what I was doing; after all, I had done this all before. Like so many times since, I discovered how wrong a person can be when it comes to trying to figure out raising children.
I found myself with a fussy little baby boy who cried for no apparent reason. Where his sister had slept like an angel in her car seat, Ben chose that time to scream bloody murder until we reached our destination. Carmen and I skated through feedings and diaper changes without so much as a rash. Ben and I, on the other hand, were plagued by painful diaper rashes and thrush that not only turned breastfeeding into a toe-curling, miserable experience but also stained his mouth (and his clothes) purple from the gentian violet treatment—just in time for his first Christmas pictures.
Now Carmen is an independent, confident, nurturing almost-second-grader. She loves to read, do crafts and play games. She loves to help out in the kitchen and worries about stains on her clothes. Ben is happiest with club in hand smashing whatever happens to venture into his path, all the while wearing his watermelon and berry stains on his shirt like a badge. He can’t resist kicking or karate chopping toys and people alike as he passes by. He peed in his Crocs one day and in a bucket in the backyard another – something his sister would never dream of doing even if she had the equipment to do so.
I never imagined kids that came from the same mix of DNA could be so different. If I have taken nothing else from the last seven years it has been that comparing my two kids is like trying to compare apples and oranges. My little “fruits” are both sweet and fantastic but totally unique. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Familiar Strangers
Throughout the school year we were in a fairly predictable schedule: school, sports classes, weekly play groups. Now that we’re settling into these lazy summer days, I got to thinking about the familiar strangers that we saw daily for 10 months and don’t see any more.
There is the woman with the Golden Retriever puppy named Amber (the dog, not the woman). We passed her every day after dropping off at school. Farley would give Amber (again the dog not the woman) a sniff before they carried on with their walk and we headed home.
Then there is the man in his sixties heading to the bus in the morning. He was always dressed in a pressed suit and a fedora, ready with a smile as we passed him on the hill. He looked like he’d just walked off a 1950s billboard for some new suburban development – classy, distinguished, timeless.
We’d also pass the grandfather whose grandkids go to Carmen’s school. He was much more organized than us so he’d greet us with a ‘good morning’ on his way home as we were rushing to get there before the bell. We were early one day and he panicked a little as we passed by on our way home. He checked with us to make sure he wasn’t late. I’m sure it never occurred to him that we could be on the ball enough to be on time!
So to all the men and women we nod to on the street, make room on the sidewalk for their dogs and bikes as they do the same for ours, and see during the Tuesday morning grocery shop, you may be out of sight but not too far out of mind. We’ll see you again in September –same time same place!
There is the woman with the Golden Retriever puppy named Amber (the dog, not the woman). We passed her every day after dropping off at school. Farley would give Amber (again the dog not the woman) a sniff before they carried on with their walk and we headed home.
Then there is the man in his sixties heading to the bus in the morning. He was always dressed in a pressed suit and a fedora, ready with a smile as we passed him on the hill. He looked like he’d just walked off a 1950s billboard for some new suburban development – classy, distinguished, timeless.
We’d also pass the grandfather whose grandkids go to Carmen’s school. He was much more organized than us so he’d greet us with a ‘good morning’ on his way home as we were rushing to get there before the bell. We were early one day and he panicked a little as we passed by on our way home. He checked with us to make sure he wasn’t late. I’m sure it never occurred to him that we could be on the ball enough to be on time!
So to all the men and women we nod to on the street, make room on the sidewalk for their dogs and bikes as they do the same for ours, and see during the Tuesday morning grocery shop, you may be out of sight but not too far out of mind. We’ll see you again in September –same time same place!
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Mini-Me no More
I have always thought of Carmen as shy. Reserved. Contemplative. And I guess I’ve enabled her to opt out of things because I’ve thought of her as shy and made her think of herself that way too. I’ve worked to expose her to different situations, built her confidence with sports, and encouraged her so she wouldn’t be as painfully shy as I was when I was growing up. And it seems these efforts are starting to pay off.
I volunteered at her Museum School field trip last week – I had a group of four kids (including Carmen) and we wandered the Glenbow Museum, examined artefacts, sketched exhibits, and talked about the stories these objects told. It also gave me the chance to watch Carmen interact with her classmates and participate in discussions in a way that I never have before. It’s an understatement to say that I was surprised at what I saw.
She was opinionated but not obnoxiously so. She threw her hand in the air when questions were posed by the guides and teachers. She was assertive yet respectful, had fun and soaked up information, and even put on a play for the rest of the class to show what a particular pioneer artefact was for and she did so without hesitation or serious nerves. That would have crippled the 7-year-old me!
Carmen is still a bit quiet in class (which I’m good with) and watches what is happening around her before jumping in (again, that’s okay by me), but she is also an active, eager member of the group who isn’t afraid to express what she thinks or feels. As it turns out, she isn’t me after all. She’s way smarter, more confident, and prettier than I ever was. And I couldn’t be prouder.
I volunteered at her Museum School field trip last week – I had a group of four kids (including Carmen) and we wandered the Glenbow Museum, examined artefacts, sketched exhibits, and talked about the stories these objects told. It also gave me the chance to watch Carmen interact with her classmates and participate in discussions in a way that I never have before. It’s an understatement to say that I was surprised at what I saw.
She was opinionated but not obnoxiously so. She threw her hand in the air when questions were posed by the guides and teachers. She was assertive yet respectful, had fun and soaked up information, and even put on a play for the rest of the class to show what a particular pioneer artefact was for and she did so without hesitation or serious nerves. That would have crippled the 7-year-old me!
Carmen is still a bit quiet in class (which I’m good with) and watches what is happening around her before jumping in (again, that’s okay by me), but she is also an active, eager member of the group who isn’t afraid to express what she thinks or feels. As it turns out, she isn’t me after all. She’s way smarter, more confident, and prettier than I ever was. And I couldn’t be prouder.
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