I doubt you’ll remember it but I think I’ll always remember climbing into your bed tonight to snuggle with you when you were having trouble falling asleep. We lay there quietly for a few moments and then you started to giggle and I tried to resist but soon I was giggling too and before we knew it we were both laughing so hard the tears were streaming down our faces and our bellies were aching.

I asked you what you were laughing at and you said “My brains are telling me jokes” and it was just one of those moments that will stick with me. Maybe not the words, but certainly the sentiment. You are so full of simple joy, son. It is infectious and refreshing and I hope that joy stays with you and sustains you always.

Love,
Your Mother

Tadaaa!!!!

Couldn’t you just die?

A close-up. There are some ribbons to spice it up a bit.

Truly, this project was so easy I may start making them as gifts for other little girls we know. I had enough left over from the first one to make a slightly smaller one. I think I could make a lovely one with less tulle than I used in the first tutu – I packed the tulle really tight so it would be extra poofy, but even half of what I put on would probably still make a sufficiently poofy skirt. So there you have it. You have the recipe for a fast, easy and relatively inexpensive craft that is guaranteed to make a little girl in your life happy. You’re welcome!

I have had my sewing machine since my Oma passed away 8 years ago. But it has only been used occasionally and very infrequently for genuine sewing projects. The machine is easily 50 years old and it punished me for neglecting it by chewing up thread and spitting it out in a tangled disaster that could not really be called “sewing”. Before Christmas I was contemplating how much longer I could keep the old girl around when she was no longer co-operating with me. But I was told that old machines could often be salvaged with a simple tune-up.

Lo and behold the old girl is back and she works like a charm. So when I was compelled to direct my creative juices towards a specific project, I decided to attempt to sew a dress for Avery. Can you believe the arrogance?? Because I can sew a straight line I thought that I somehow possessed the ability to decipher the ridiculously complicated hieroglyphics in a sewing pattern and somehow translate that into an actual garment! Complete madness!!!

I started out all peppy and excited about the project and managed to assemble all the right materials despite a very much less than helpful fabric store clerk who insisted I needed less material than I had interpreted according to the back of the pattern. After I explained sloooowly half a dozen times, what was clearly shown on the pattern I was able to get what I needed (Dear Fabricland Clerk, YOU are supposed to KNOW what you are DOING!!! Thanks for nothing!).

After bringing all the materials home I did just exactly what you would expect. I got right to work like a busy little beaver I shoved it all in a cupboard and ignored it for several weeks.

I did eventually muster up the guts to open up the pattern. After looking it over for a bit I concluded I needed an engineering or architecture degree to decipher the directions. So I did just exactly what you would expect. I studied the directions until I figured out how to begin I shoved it all back in the cupboard again.

After some time and several handfuls of xanax I was able to fudge my way through and although I think it probably wasn’t completed quite according to the specifications (how is it possible for a simple dress like this to have twenty pieces???), it turned out all right.

Avery questions my choice of fabrics, she’s not sure if they “match” but accepted it because it is primarily pink and she can’t resist pink. What do you think?

The hubby says it reminds him of the dresses Maria sews from curtains for the Von Trapp children in The Sound of Music. I’m not sure yet if this is a compliment or criticism.

And now the sewing machine and I are going to take a little break from each other and see if we still want to work together in a few months. Or maybe next winter. We’ll see how long it takes.

I don’t want or plan for this blog to become all about adoption.  But right now it’s a significant portion of my life and is overwhelmingly in the forefront of my thoughts as we prepare the documents we need to send across the ocean. I haven’t been writing much because I don’t want to write the same things over and over and because I don’t have a whole lot to say. But the blog isn’t forgotten. Thank you to those of you who continue to read even when the material is sparse.

After a recent roadtrip which included multiple trips to McDonalds I have realized that many of you congregate at your local Golden Arches. I’m not sure why. I would have thought people such as yourselves would have higher standards, but whatever. The point is, your attempts to subvert the accepted line structure at fast food establishments are totally obnoxious.

McDonalds is set up with a system. A system which customers are expected to follow. It’s simple, really. The restaurants generally have several lanes which may or may not be staffed. When you enter the restaurant you are expected to pick a line. You may or may not pick the fastest line and you pretty much suffer the consequences of your choice. Pick the line where the newest pimply, hungover teenaged employee is struggling to enter orders into the computer and you end up waiting a long time. Guess what? That’s life.

The fact that you may draw the short straw does not give you the right to commandeer all the lineups and force all your fellow patrons to get in one line to advance as a cashier becomes available. You may wish that’s the way it worked, but you may or may not have heard that you can’t always get what you want. True story. I looked it up.

You should be faced with the irrationality of your behaviour when you have to explain your line-up philosophy to every person who walks in the door while passing moral judgment on everyone who challenges your authority, lest each person try to avoid your long lineup and get in a different line, as would be LOGICAL. You should realize this is not the right course of action. But I recognize that your need for control has polluted all rational thought which is the only reason I’ve refrained from starting a fistfight during our several recent encounters, even though I am strongly convinced that a punch to the face would bring many of you back to reality.

Get over yourselves.

Love,
Shannon

This is the first of what may be many letters. The beginning of what will very likely be a long and excruciating and completely unconventional kind of pregnancy. We have been thinking and dreaming about adopting since before we had your brother and sister but only in the past few months have we begun actively proceeding towards that end. As we begin to discuss details and paperwork and plans I spend more and more time dreaming about you. And then it hit me…

You are very likely not even born yet. We expect to wait several years for a referral and with the age limit we have set, it is most likely you will be born in the next 6 to 18 months. We are planning for a child who has not yet been born to a mother who will eventually decide to give you up. Somewhere a woman is pregnant, or will be very soon. Somewhere she is, or will be, feeling and thinking…I don’t know what. I can’t pretend to know. But she is, or will be, carrying you. So I can’t help think about her and be grateful for her and hope that you will keep enough of her inside you to help answer the questions you will no doubt have some day.

Somewhere, you will be born this year. On a day I won’t know and a time I won’t realize. My heart hurts, knowing your dad and I won’t be there right from the start but that’s going to be a fact of our relationship. Your beginning will be special. You will touch other people’s lives before you touch ours. But you will be in our hearts from the beginning, before we know you.

Right now I feel somewhat overwhelmed by the paperwork involved in getting permission to wait for you. But the fact that this road will eventually lead to bringing you into our arms is giving me the motivation I need.

Meanwhile, I think of you and I think of the mother who will carry you in her body while I carry you in my heart. She and I are connected, and always will be. It is heartbreaking that for you to come into our family she will have to let you go. But it is beautiful, too. I promise you this, we won’t forget her.

Maybe it sounds like I have a romanticized view of this process. Believe me, I am doing my best to understand the realities of adopting. I know there will obstacles while we wait, challenges when we meet, hurdles as we bond. But I am choosing to believe that even though we are sacrificing witnessing the first few years of your life by taking this path, it will be worth it in the end to know you. I believe it will be worth it for you to be a part of our family.

Holding you in my heart until then,
Mommy

Our next step is an interview/meeting with our social worker which will happen in a few days. I am not totally sure what that meeting will entail. Talking through our adoption plan, discussing the homestudy, what else? I’m not clear. But after that meeting I think we will be cleared to begin the homestudy process which is a big part of the dossier we will send to our chosen country.  Now THAT I will be nervous about! Nothing like putting your whole life and family under a microscope!

In other news, Kieran seems to be coming to grips with his own mortality. Yes, that’s right. My three year old is having an existential crisis over the fact that he will die someday. Not everyone approaches teaching their kids about death in the same way. We have always taken a very honest, but age-appropriate approach.  Avery encountered death at a very early age when her uncle died of cancer. We explained the concept as best we could at a 2-year-old level. She listened, processed, discussed, and moved on.

But the perils of having an older sister well-informed about the concept of death means a certain three year old boy has been perhaps given information at a time and in a way that he was not prepared for. It almost certainly does not help that she told him the other day that if he watched too much tv his heart would stop beating! Nothing like a little Grim Reaper with your morning cartoons!

I’ll tell you one thing. Comforting a weeping child who is afraid of dying is no picnic. Thus far, distraction has proven to be the most effective technique. We discuss the things we’re going to do tomorrow, next week, and when he grows up. It’s the only thing that seems to work at this point. I’m sure time and maturity will help. Until then, we are trying to focus on life around here!

The Hubby: “Well, you can’t control anyone except…”

Avery: “YourSELF! I KNOW Dad!”

Kieran: “And ROBOTS!”

I have been researching preschools for the fall for Kieran and alternately being excited for him to take that step and freaking out because mah baybee is growing up! OMG!

Of course there is also the post-Christmas-dead-of-winter funk which I know I’m not alone in feeling. Tired of cold and winter parkas and lack of sunshine (although better than we’ve experienced in the past several winters in Ontario and Boston) and trying not to make myself feel better by stuffing my piehole with leftover Christmas goodies.

On top of all this I am realizing that we have almost hit the 6 month mark since we left Boston. After moving 3 times in 3 years I should have been better prepared for the 6 month blues. But I wasn’t. I thought it would be different because we were moving home. Each time we moved the first few months are hectic and confusing and stressful with trying to get settled and figure out a new place. Finding out where the grocery store is, getting set up with doctors and schools and dance classes and playgroups. It’s all very overwhelming. Six months is when things have settled into a routine and our lives calm down enough to start missing home. Or missing our last home, wherever that was. Because regardless of the location, it’s natural to miss what had become familiar and comfortable. And even though Saskatoon is familiar, our life here is, of course, different than it was before we left the city.  We live in a different neighbourhood, our kids are older and attend different (and more) activities than they did before, the hubby has a different job (and twice as many), and most importantly, we are different than we were.

Now that our life has calmed down I have enough time to have increasingly frequent twinges of longing for our most recent home. They come without warning, while driving down a street, while hanging out with friends, while at the store or the park or gymnastics class. It’s not that we are unhappy here or wish we hadn’t moved. But I am a creature of habit and I can’t help but long for routine. The familiar places and people here are awesome. It has made the move so much easier. But the last few years have also taught me to greatly appreciate new friends and wonderful experiences and opportunities that we have had elsewhere and while I wait for Saskatoon to once again feel completely like home (from my experience, this usually sets in around twelve months post-move) I am trying to remind myself to be patient.

It’s amazing how predictable this process is – at least for me. I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am. And the reality is that this is a different type of life entirely than what we were living in Boston. Both have their pros and cons. It’s easy to miss the good things and conveniently forget the difficult things and I am very aware that what I’m missing is partially selective memory. I know that six months from now I will very likely feel much more settled and content. It’s all part of the natural progression of feelings associated with such a big move.

So that’s where we’re at. Pre-adoption. Pre-preschool. Six month post-move blues.

And now I know some of you are totally scratching your heads and wondering what the hell I’m talking about. So here it is. 2010 is the year our family begins the journey of adoption. We have been discussing and planning for this for years.  We intended to start the process years ago but, as you know if you have been following me for a while, we started moving across the country, south to the states and there was no way for us to begin without being settled in a location for the foreseeable future. Well, now we are settled and have done our initial research in choosing a country and learning more about the process and we will be submitting our first application to the government in the next week or so. That is the beginning of the waiting.

The waiting is what I am both trying to prepare for and realizing there will be no preparing.  All you can do with waiting is try and distract yourself. But you still have to wait. You can expect to hear a lot about the waiting here.

I haven’t yet decided how much I am going to say about the process yet, or if I’m going to talk about the country we’ve chosen or other aspects of the journey. I may share all the details or only some. But I am really excited to finally be taking steps to bring a third child into our family and I wanted to post about it here.

And here are a few pictures from Christmas because I know everyone likes a little bling and I am not always good about posting pictures.

The tooth fairy FINALLY visited our house. Avery was thrilled!

And then the tooth fairy was back for a second tooth not long after. The tooth fairy is going to have to take out a line of credit. Avery is quickly learning that loosing teeth is a fairly lucrative business!

Avery’s look of horror upon opening the big box she thought contained a piano only to discover the wine glasses and umbrellas daddy had hidden inside.

The kids on Christmas Eve, dressed in their Christmas best. I love Kieran’s hat. My uncle called him Hinz Giesbrecht (a really menno sounding name) at our family gathering because he thought the hat was 100% old school German Mennonite. I still love it.

I have laughed at people who naively read things on the internet and believed that forwarding an email will pay for a child’s cancer treatment or that they can cure baldness with a simple pill.

I have laughed at people who see an ad for teeth whitening products set up as an alleged interview with someone from that person’s hometown saying that in these hard times they have found the “secret” to whiter teeth by combining two products which are conveniently available for a “risk-free trial period” for only a couple of dollars shipping.

I have laughed when those people found themselves suddenly signed up for monthly charges of over $150 because the trial period ended before the trial product was delivered (since it was coming from Florida) and $25/month for some sort of Bargain-Dining-Coupon-Book-Club which is somehow related to the now-slightly-more-risky-looking teeth whitening products.

I have laughed when said people have found these charges on their visa statement and freaked out because they thought their visa numbers had been stolen and proceeded to call Visa and have a new card number issued before they realized that they had, indeed, approved the charges, even if it was a rather underhanded trick by the devious teeth-whitening people.

I have laughed when the same people have spent hours on the phone to opt out of what seems like half a dozen membership programs and argued with teeth-whitening agents in order to have their money refunded and their memberships cancelled.

I have laughed when they then realized that the new visa number had not been as necessary as a level head and a tad more vigilance regarding whiter teeth giving out one’s visa number.

I have laughed.

But I will not laugh anymore.

Not that I would ever be bamboozled by a flashy campaign for whiter teeth an internet scam. I’m just saying.

So I was going to tell you about how the hubby attempted to completely extinguish our daughter’s Christmas spirit on Christmas day. Here’s how it started: The hubby and I decided to buy each other an electric piano for Christmas this year. We’ve been putting off buying a piano for probably 2 years and it’s something we really wanted so that our kids can take lessons. (Piano lessons are non-negotiable in my house, at least for a few years. I think a basic understanding of music is incredibly important.) Calling it a Christmas present helped us justify dropping a fairly sizeable chunk of change. So the hubby picked up the piano from Costco a week before Christmas and we agreed to leave it in the (rather large) box until Christmas morning so we could have the fun of opening it that day.

Avery knew we planned to buy a piano and was pretty sure that was what was in the box, seeing as it said “digital piano” right on the side. However, the hubby likes to make our kids really use their thinkers and he asked her how she could be sure that a piano was in the box. He pointed out that a piano was much bigger than this box and that there were pictures of wine glasses and umbrellas on the box, not pianos, and didn’t that indicate that the box contained wine glasses and umbrellas?

It was enough to shake her confidence and although she still felt she was probably right she just couldn’t be completely sure. She begged us to open the box so she could see what was inside but we held firm for the Christmas morning deadline.

After the kids were tucked into bed and sound asleep on Christmas Eve the hubby’s devious side got the best of him and he unpacked the piano, set it up, and covered it with blankets in a corner. Then he repacked the box with wine glasses from our cupboard and our own umbrellas, taped it all up, and left it for the morning.

Well you really just can’t imagine the utter disappointment on our daughter’s face when we opened that box Christmas morning and there was NO piano inside. Luckily Daddy quickly revealed the hidden piano and order was restored to the universe.

And that, my friends, is how the hubby almost ruined Christmas for our daughter. But didn’t.

Next, I said I would tell you about my favourite gift of the holiday season. As I mentioned above, the hubby and I agreed to buy the piano for each other for Christmas. I thought about buying him some little thing so he would have a present to open from me but decided that the best present I could give the hubby is to not spend anymore money, as his blood pressure tends to go up this time of year when (it seems to him) every time I come in the door I’m carrying more “presents” and all he sees is dollar signs. Aren’t I thoughtful?

But the hubby, because he knows how very much I like presents, and how I may have gotten just a tiny wee bit resentful after having to do every bit of the baking, decorating, shopping, wrapping and planning for Christmas on my own, got me a couple of presents “from the kids”. Isn’t he smart thoughtful?

So on Christmas morning I opened up my very own Roomba! Oh yes he did! The hubby got me a robot that vacuums for me for Christmas! It’s possibly the most considerate gift I’ve EVER gotten!  And I love it! It’s not going to completely replace me and I still have to keep cords and toys and stuff out of the way. If I want it to clean under the table I have to move the chairs for it. But it means one less job for me to do and I couldn’t be happier!  I am going to have a bumper sticker made…

Robotic Vacuum Cleaners: Bringing Romance Back Since Christmas 2009!

Eggnog or hot chocolate? Neither. Not a fan of hot drinks.

Does Santa wrap the presents or leave them open under the tree? I usually pick a couple of gifts that are a big deal to be from Santa and wrap them in separate Santa paper that nothing else gets wrapped in. The rest are from me and the hubby because I refuse to give all the credit for fantastic gift selections to a fictional person.

Colored lights on a tree or white? I like white lights – but they have to be the soft white, which is why I haven’t purchased LEDs. I’m not convinced that even the soft white lights will be as nice as regular bulbs and the cold white lights make me want to poke my eyes out.

Do you hang mistletoe? No. Do people actually do that? Not sure I’ve ever seen someone actually hang mistletoe and expect people to kiss random people. I don’t plan to be smooching on anyone except my family members during H1N1 season!

When do you put your decorations up? The very end of November or early December. If the hubby whines that it’s too early for Christmas decorations when I pull the boxes out then I’m pretty much right on time.

What is your favorite holiday dish? Stuffing and mashed potatoes with gravy. Which is weird because I never really like stuffing until I was pregnant with my second baby and it became a pregnancy craving. Now I really enjoy it at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? No. We are mean parents and make everyone wait for Christmas morning. Although the kids each get a new pair of pajamas on Christmas Eve night to wear that night. Mostly so they will look cute in the pictures on Christmas morning and not wearing ratty mismatched pajamas.

How do you decorate your Christmas tree? When I first had a home of my own I was determined to have a “theme” on my Christmas tree. I thought that was super classy. So I bought a set of wooden angels with phrases on them like “peace on earth” and “joy to the world” as well as some copper coloured metal ornaments in a variety of shapes (star, stocking etc.).  And lo, it was a theme.  But it turns out I really didn’t have enough to decorate a whole tree with those ornaments. And I had a collection of old ornaments, given to me throughout my childhood, that I took with me when I left home and I felt those deserved a place on my tree. So they were added even though they didn’t fit with my theme. And then it turned out that my carefully chosen angel ornaments soon showed themselves to be of the “country kitchen” decorating style which really isn’t my style, and yet I find them hard to part with. But I slowly began to fill up with other ornaments that I received as gifts or purchased here and there. I decided my new theme would simply be “angels” in general. Because I like angels and there are so many pretty angel ornaments out there. And then I had kids. And the kids are quickly collecting ornaments of their own and only a few of them fit with my theme. So finally I admitted defeat and accepted that I will have a mismash of new and old and totally random decorations on my tree and that is ok because each of them is special to me and make me feel happy and that is what the tree should be. It also gives me permission to purchase any pretty decorations I happen to find on post-Christmas sales! Oh, and despite my angel fixation, I like to have a star on top of my tree.

Snow: love it or hate it? I’ll admit it looks pretty when it’s fresh and powdery. But I’d have no problem accepting a snowless Christmas. I hate the cold.

Can you ice skate? I used to be able to skate. It’s been a lot of years since I last did it.

What is your favorite holiday dessert? Butter tarts. I know most Americans don’t know what these are. It’s basically a raisin tart which doesn’t sound at all appetizing. But it’s got lots of brown sugary syrupy goodness in there and if you’ve never had them you are absolutely missing out. Merry Christmas.

What is your favorite holiday tradition? I love advent traditions. I’m still chasing after the perfect advent calendar. I made one this year that I am only moderately happy with. The kids enjoyed it. We also tried wrapping our Christmas books and opening one each night to read, a la Amazing Trips which was a really nice idea and I think we will continue to do that in the future. Also, Christmas Eve, when we go to a candlelight church service early in the evening and then come home to sit in low lighting with candles lit and Christmas music playing and eat all kinds of yummy treats until our stomachs hurt.

Candy canes: yum or yuck? Not a fan.

Favorite Christmas show? White Christmas.

And it’s now just 20 minutes until December 26 so I am just squeaking this in as a Christmas post. Wishing you and yours a peaceful holiday and contentment in the New Year.

Tune in tomorrow to hear how the hubby nearly single-handedly spoiled our daughter’s Christmas morning but saved the day and then rocked my world with what could be the world’s most awesome Christmas present.

I know you don’t remember the first year of your life or the way I was a total wreck because of never getting to sleep through the night perfectly delightful all the time but you can trust me, I was. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that you are three, or any specific developmental phase or the fact that you just don’t want to go to sleep in your own bed, but the multiple night-time trips to wake me up t is taking it’s toll my darling.

I fully appreciate your vivid imagination and how it is constantly evaluating the likelihood that a monster of unimaginable horror is about to burst out of your closet and violate the sanctity of your bedroom, but I’m going to need you to get a grip here pretty soon. Although I want to be compassionate, I also want to be well rested.  In a contest between maternal love and blessed slumber, sleep is going to win every time. And sleep is less than restful when it is routinely interrupted by “Um…..mum?”.

Sweetheart, I’m not above playing the Santa card and threatening a call to the North Pole if you don’t knock it off. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that you deserve a mother who is not an ogre. So please, my angel, let’s put an end to the nightly visits so I can once again be a moderately pleasant human being dazzle the world with my spectacular mothering while shooting rainbows out of my rear end.

Affectionately yours,
Mommy

1. A set of my little ponies, one of which is painted/coloured all over with white paint/chalk and looks in rough shape as well as a my little pony that is actually a sheep but looks like a pony with smallpox.
2. A Christmas tree ornament inscribed with the year “2001″.
3. A hard plastic case that opens like a clamshell, intended to hold eye make up. Almost certainly from the 1980’s.  Contains no make up but half a dozen eye shadow applicators, apparently unused.
4. A set of half a dozen cardboard coasters with “Coors Light” on them. (Can an elementary school sell an alcohol related item for profit?)
5. Two muppets/Sesame Street “sticker books” circa 1985 (according to the copyright on the book). 1985 being the era when sticker meant you have to punch out a paper image along the perforated line and lick the back in order to adhere to the picture like when sealing an envelope. Kids probably get brain damage from licking those things.
6. All manner of UGLY used candle holders.
7. Figurine of all shapes and sizes. Who doesn’t want a white ceramic naked angel baby or a tiny pioneer woman wearing a Miss America sash? (Can an elementary school sell nude statues for profit?)
8. Raggedy, nasty, stained stuffed animals. Some almost certainly dating back to MY childhood.
9. A decorative doll that looks like a corpse and winds up to play “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” while her head sways back and forth in a super crreepy fashion.

If I were helping with the sorting of such items I might just compose a letter to the (almost unilaterally well-off) parents of the school that went some like this:

Dear Parents,

The purpose of a fundraiser, as you may or may not be aware, is to RAISE FUNDS.  The purpose of a loonie/twoonie table is to allow the young children of our school to buy Christmas gifts for family members that they can purchase without assistance from parents.  By emptying out your garbage cans or the boxes you haven’t opened since 1987 into your donation boxes you are accomplishing neither of these goals as we cannot, in good conscience, sell your shit to innocent schoolchildren and, if we do not sell anything, we will not raise any funds. If you didn’t want your trash you should throw it in your local waste disposal container, commonly referred to as a GARBAGE CAN. If you wouldn’t like to receive a dirty Sylvester the Cat  stuffy for Christmas, maybe you shouldn’t be sending your corpse doll for our sale?

The idea of this sale is not to find items that are worth 25 or 10 cents and sell them for such, but rather, to find good quality, gently or never-used items that are worth quite a bit, and sell them for only a little because we want our children to experience the joy of giving and to raise a little cash for a good cause.

Get your heads out of your rear ends and wake up! The items you throw away each week are better than what you sent to raise money for the school your precious offspring attend! And if you think that we don’t know that a very high percentage of you bastards are making twice or three times as much as the teachers who educate your children you are so very wrong!

Yours disdainfully,
A fellow parent

Lucky for the administration at my school, it certainly wasn’t me who was sorting that shit. Ahem.

Alas, we are two months past the initial excitement and only JUST getting to the point where the tooth could be considered almost loose enough to pull. Is it just me or is that a REALLY long time? (Oh yes, for my American friends, when I said her tooth became loose at Thanksgiving I meant Canadian Thanksgiving which was the second Monday in October).  I remember it taking a few days or a week for a loose tooth to come out when I was a child. This is bordering on absurd.

Back to the trauma…it’s the pulling that’s scarring us all. We’ve now tried to pull it about half a dozen times with no success. We seem to be failing at one of the central tenets of parenthood – the tooth extraction. The hubby manages to elicit great sobbing wails every time he makes an attempt – usually because he is trying to pull out her gums and not just the tooth. I do not seem to cause as much agony but perhaps that’s just because I’m not pulling hard enough? Or maybe we have jumped the gun altogether and are attempting to pull the tooth prematurely? Regardless, the result is TRAUMA.

At the rate we are going she’ll still just start losing teeth as she enters high school. And nothing says “Ridicule me” like a 14 year old missing her two front teeth. I can hear it now: “My name ith Avery and I am thuper exthited to be thtarting high thchool!”

If you’re looking for me, I’ll be researching reputable therapists in the area. I’m sure Avery is going to have a lot to talk about.

The Seven Silly Eaters by Mary Ann Hoberman has been one of our favourite books since we first purchased it I think two years ago. I absolutely love reading it as I am a huge fan of well-crafted rhyme (it is much more rare than you would think). The story is cute and the illustrations are fantastic and full of detail and the story is silly and entertaining for kids of a variety of ages.

Harvey Potter’s Balloon Farm by Jerdine Nolen is a book we happened upon at the library one time. Sometimes you pick a bunch of random books and hope to score and we scored big time when we brought this one home. It’s a tale of a man who grows balloons, as you can probably deduce from the title. Again, it has amazing illustrations of fields full of balloons of all shapes and sizes and it does my imagination good to read it. I like the message of not only tolerating, but embracing folks who are different and I also like the angle that suggests that a little mystery can be good for us.

The Gingerbread Girl by Lisa Campbell Ernst was a book I knew my daughter would love before I ever showed it to her. She had been learning about the tale of the gingerbread man at school and she was thrilled to see this sequel to the story (in which the little old woman makes a gingerbread girl to replace the lost gingerbread boy and the gingerbread girl outwits the devious fox and tames him). Again, very interesting illustrations, an empowering story about learning from the mistakes of others, and my daughter always likes to read the repetitive parts with me.

The Story of Peter Rabbit , Abridged. Everyone knows this classic story by Beatrix Potter and to be honest, I wasn’t that excited about it. We found it on sale at Winners and my son wanted it so we brought it home. And then we read it about five times a day for the next several months. What can I say? I guess the cautionary tale hit home for my 3 year old! I would have read it as many times as he requested just to hear him attempt to say “Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail and Peter” which is a mouthful for a little guy.

M is for Mischief: An A to Z of Naughty Children by Linda Ashman is another random library win. Fantastic rhyme which is almost guaranteed to win me over, combined with interesting illustration and 26 different mini-lessons about good manners told in a humorous way makes it a new favourite at our house. I may be purchasing this one in the future. It’s not often you find stories that are as enjoyable for parents as they are for kids.

The Donut Chef by Bob Staake was given to us as a gift. I had never heard of Bob Staake or any of his books until we picked up this one and I was an instant fan. The illustrations are very different but awesome. Again, amazing rhyme and an engaging story. However you may find yourself licking the pages or ready to drive yourself straight to the nearest donut store by the time you finish looking at page after page of yummy donuts! Consider yourself warned!

Not a Box by Antoinette Portis is short and sweet but it definitely captures my kids imaginations. If you’ve ever shaken your head in bewilderment while your kids play in the boxes their toys came in, this book will resonate with you. On every page the narrator asks the rabbit why he’s playing in/on/etc. a box and my kids love to chime in with the rabbit and yell “IT’S NOT A BOX!”.

The Gruffalo by Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler. This duo has written a bunch of books that are well loved at our house (The Gruffalo’s Child, The Stick Man, The Snail and the Whale, The Spiffiest Giant in Town). Some people just have a talent for writing fantastic rhyme and Donaldson and Scheffler are no exception. Both myself and both by kids really enjoy the way the mouse outsmarts all his predators.

Monkey Business by Wallace Edwards is going to be under the tree for my kids this Christmas. I was only recently introduced to Edwards and I am already a huge fan of both his text and his illustrations. In this book each page illustrates a popular idiom (bull in a china shop, eating your words, etc.) and the pictures are guaranteed to make you chuckle. I can’t wait for Christmas morning so we can start reading! I’ve also admired Edwards books Mixed Beasts and Alphabeasts which are also completely fascinating.

Blueberry Girl by Neil Gaiman is not a book I have actually read with my kids. We own and absolutely love some of his other children’s books (The Day the Wolves Came Out of the Walls, The Day I Traded My Dad for Two Goldfish - I highly recommend both!) so I picked this one up at the book store the other day. To be completely honest, I’m not in love with the illustrations which sometimes makes it hard to fully appreciate the text in a story. They aren’t bad, but they’re just not really my style. But that is an incredibly personal thing. But the words are just so beautiful I totally started crying in the bookstore. And if I had purchased this book I would have cried every single time I read it to my kids. It’s sort of a prayer or blessing for a daughter, wishing her all the important qualities in life like kindness and strength and wisdom and I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do because I really really want to own it and yet I’m not sure I’ll ever read it if I do purchase it! Still, I thought it was worth posting about here.

This is already getting long so I’m going to wrap it up here. I could keep going all day as there aren’t many things I enjoy more than talking about my favourite books. But after writing all about them, now I’m ready to go cuddle up with my kids for story time!

Stop being such assholes.

Yours truly,
Shannon

PS-I mean, you know I can’t just leave it at that. I’d like to, but I can’t. Where the hell do you get off acting like such mother-effing little bastards all the time? Everything from ipods to blackberrys to laptops to the apple tv all work perfectly for the hubby. I know each of you little bastards wait to pull the “restart me” shit when I’m at the wheel, but knowing it doesn’t make me hate you any less. I can’t even say how many times I’ve had to call the hubby, whining that I can’t get a movie playing for the kids, and I follow his instructions perfectly, only to be thwarted by your diabolical tripwires of what must be on and what must be off and what must be pointed just so and which effing remote to use and when item A and item B are on at the same time then item C needs to be off and then both A and B must be restarted. Seriously? How come the hubby never has to restart one of your ever-loving evil little asses?

I’m not dumb. Well, at least I’m smart enough to follow the same procedure multiple times.  But I am on to your little scheme. When the hubby is downstairs and I follow his instructions precisely and whatever electronic device or computer program I am using absolutely refuses to work – until the hubby starts coming up the stairs, at which point they magically spring to life…well lets just say you could be a little less obvious. We all KNOW the hubby is the computer whisperer. I don’t need you to rub it in.

We couldn’t just have a fracking dvd player like every other family…

In closing…stop being such assholes.

• Some lovely quotes…

To laugh often, to win the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of fast friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch…to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded. -Emerson

“When it comes to understanding others,” I said, “we rarely tax our imaginations.” - Lawrence Hill (in The Book of Negroes)

• Tim Minchin…

• Homemade caramel corn from Buns In My Oven which is possibly the best thing to happen to me since…well, it’s possibly the best thing to happen to me ever. (Sorry, the hubby.)
• The fact that our public library system is about to get rid of late fees on children’s books ENTIRELY. Suckers! Ah-hem…I mean…I will definitely continue to conscientiously return our books on time.

Visiting my friend and her son was a real pleasure, too, of course!

And what was my poor, abandoned family doing while I was living it up traveling and having some quality girl-talk? Did my babies miss me? In a word: NO. In fact, they had so much fun that by two days after my departure they were asking their father why they don’t have this much fun when mommy is around?

Ahem.

There is nothing to be done but for me to take more frequent sabbaticals so that my darlings can experience more joy in life. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for the good of my offspring. I’m giving like that