Trick or Treat?

Before I had kids, I would watch TV commercials showing a delighted mother happily baking with her kids. They would smudge each others noses with the batter, sneak a taste of the batter and generally look quintessentially cute and happy. I thought the ads were sweet. They made me smile.

When I was hoping for pregnancy, they made my heart ache with a mixture of hope and longing. I pictured myself making rice crispy treats and Christmas cookies with my future children and it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Now I have two kids, both girls. The Six year old's interest in baking is centered solely around licking the bowl. The Baby just wants to be included and do everything her big sister does.

Here's the truth of it - I do not like baking with my children.
When I confessed this to The Husband - he was shocked. He'll be really delighted I've decided to share the ugly truth with you.

How can I not like it?
It's a chaotic, patience challenging, mess-fest that I am usually out of energy for.
My first mistake I realize, is that we often bake after school. It's getting late, the kids are tired and I still have dinner to make. However, unless I limit baking to the weekends - that's the time we have spare, 6.30 am baking has no appeal whatsoever.

I would say that I am not a neat freak and I think that washing hands before you start baking is adequate to prevent germ spreading. So it surprises me most of all that flour sprayed out of the bowl by over zealous mixing and kids dipping their fingers in the mix makes me crazy.

Batter dripped all over the counter top and down the appliances is just not a sweet child bonding activity for me. Cake mix everywhere but in the muffin pan tends to yield very little edible product.

So it is with an honest but troubled heart that I admit that all the baking I did for the school Halloween party and for a party we are going to tonight - I did alone. I waited until the kids were in bed and I baked neatly and efficiently.

The Six year was unconcerned as long as she got a preview taste and the baby didn't comment - her mouth was full of muffin, so I'm taking that as agreement.

Happy and Safe Halloween to you and yours!

Naughty, Nice or just Nasty?

I'm a little disturbed. Why has Halloween become synonymous with sex and horror?
What happened to bobbing for apples and carving pumpkins? (Get this, when I was a kid we carved turnips - if you've never had that experience - imagine digging through rock with a spoon, it took hours.) Costumes involved throwing an old bed sheet over your head, cutting two little eye holes and calling yourself a ghost.

I'm sure most people are still carving pumpkins but instead of two triangles for eyes and a big toothy grin - now I see pumpkins vomiting brains or acting as the head of Jason from Nightmare on Elm Street. I find it scary - never mind the kids.

So with that in mind, when I wanted to get a wig for my costume, I went to the Halloween Store alone. What a smart decision that was. The Halloween store was horrifying. Really. It was just filled with horror. Eight foot statues with bloody weapons and fanged teeth, dry ice and scary music.
There should be a warning on the door. Horror movies have an 'R' rating for a reason. The parents who had brought their kids there was hastily trying to make their purchases and get out of there.

Now I know the theory is, that at Halloween, it's fun to be scared. What happened to spooky? What happened to a ghost jumping out and shouting BOO! Why do we need blood, guts and menacing monster figures with weapons?

Are we trying to regress our kids? Are we trying to ensure that psychotherapists have a secure future?

I made my way to the kids costume section to check out accessories for our Wizard of Oz theme. Front and center is a super cute Dorothy dress - I pull it out and see that it is tiny. I check the label it's a 2T - 4T. My kid is six so I go hunting for the dress in her size. I pull it out. It's different. Really different.
It can only be described as sexy Dorothy. Right there on the label it says 6-8 years.
It has a frilly cleavage - how many 6-8 years old do you know with a cleavage?
What's wrong with that picture?
EVERYTHING - that's what wrong.

These are little kids. Teens and adults - go for it - scare yourselves silly.
Be flirtatious and sexy if you want but leave THE KIDS out of it.
Let them dress up as cute little bugs, animals or simple witches and ghosts. Let their pumpkins be sweet or silly. Let them be kids.
Their time will come - this isn't it.

This Happy Halloween message was brought to you by prudish, big girl's blouse kind of mom.

Gratefully Yours.

Wow! Being the Sits FB was the most bloggy fun I've had to date.
Thanks to everyone who came by and left me a comment.
In the end over 2500 of you came by and left me over 300 comments!
It was overwhelming in a really great way.

What I learned was that this community is full of talented, insightful people with lots of interesting, sometimes controversial things to say.
I also learned that we really like to laugh and confessing feels really good.

I am inspired and now have several new posts buzzing around in my head.
I'm also really tired - so please come back tomorrow for a full post.
In the meantime my very good friend at Mosey Along had suggested a favorite post for yesterday which didn't make the cut.
Since she's the one who introduced me to blogging and Sits I want to honor her choice.

Here it is, hope you like it too:
There's No Place Like Home.

The Secret's In The Sauce.

Once upon a time there was a little girl. She lived in a land far, far away.
She dreamed of sunshine and a life less ordinary.

One day she met her Prince and they moved to a land of sunny skies.
Life was exciting. Full of travel, job satisfaction and endless possibilities.
Eventually, the girl and her Prince grew lonely, so they had two babies.

Now the girl's life was full of joy and love.
It was also full of diapers, sleepless nights, constant snack making,
endless laundry, guilt, worry and drama.

The girl was very happy but felt something was missing in her life. One day a friend told her about blogging.
It was a match made in heaven.


Today the girl is the featured blogger at The Secret's In The Sauce a fabulous community of bloggers.




Welcome Sitstas!
I hope you'll stay and read my little haven of sanity in the otherwise all consuming world of parenting.


I asked my readers for their favorite posts - here's what they chose:

Diving In


Camp Tales - Part One

Second Kid Syndrome

Haste Ye Back!

Also take advantage of 15% off at KidsKonserve - Green Shopping is there anything better?

Making Time.

People ask me all the time,

"When do you find time to blog?"

Well there are two ways to look at that:

1. I make time.

or

2. I ignore my children for an hour every other day.

Pride in my mothering skills will make me go with the first one.
It got me thinking though. How do I make the time?

For one thing I put blogging ahead of things I probably shouldn't - like showers.
I sometimes blog when my children are hoping I'll play with them.
I tell them it's mummies job and I have to work.
For the most part they get it. Well, the six year old gets it and the baby will go along with the six year old on most things.

This has turned out to be quite useful. For example, when they are driving me nuts, (obviously a rare occurrence because my children are cherubs) I might go and read Hello Magazine online.

"Are you doing your job momma?"

"Yes sweetie, yes I am."

Is that a lie? Isn't it my job to be a calm, caring mother?
If I need to enter the adult world or be distracted by fashion to remain calm and caring, I'm doing my job right?

Sometimes, I blog in the evenings. Maybe you can tell, those posts tend to mention wine and fatigue a lot more than the 9am posts. Sometimes I skip a post - do you notice? I feel guilty and a slacker but since I'm my own boss I tend to get distracted and forget to tell myself off.

Mostly, I blog when the six year old is at school and the baby is napping.
That time is reserved for laundry, housework, a nap for me if I was up with the baby during the night, food preparation, emails, bill pay and a multitude of other things.

So, there's the truth of it. My house is a mess, our clothes are dirty, I am over tired and under washed. But hey, I have a great blog!

And Now for Something Completely Different!

Today I proudly feature a guest blog.
One of the things I miss most about Scotland is the dry wit.
This post has made me laugh so hard I spit my morning tea all over my laptop but it also made me homesick.
I hope you enjoy it.

HALLOWEEN

Good news. The nine year old has forgotten about the Hari Krishna outfit for Halloween and wants to dress up as a zombie. You see you can rely on the good old Scottish mentality, none of your mermaid, Disney characters or incredibly complicated sewing
manoeuvres - just an old torn shirt, lots of gel in hair and fake blood smeared around the old "boat race" (face.)

The four year old has forgotten his Tim Gunn phase too - he wants to dress
up as a Mummy - so let's just raid the first aid box.
Me, well using my initiative as per usual, I have based my whole
'look' around the piece of gray netting that came wrapped round a bunch of
flowers. It is so big it fits right over my head and shoulders - so I
figure I am going to go as a corpse. 'Dead' easy - just take a look at me
at 6am on a Monday morning...

I am pretty organized actually - pumpkins just waiting to be carved,
scary objet d'art ready to hang, various treats bought. Did I tell
you last year I wasn't in, I think we were at my Mum's and some little
sh*t stole my doorbell? Little b*st*rds (that's me resorting to my true
colours of course!)

We're so different.
For example - your blog is all very sensible and all about feeling
guilty about stuff and how you treasure moments etc .....
Last night I went to see my Nana in the nursing home (she's okay she just never says a word.) then we went back to my Aunt's house to have our tea.
The four year old's face was caked in mess, so she went to get a wipe to clean
it. I had to stop her when I realized she was scrubbing away at his face
with a 'Power Force' bathroom/kitchen wipe infused with bleach.

I thought the nine year olds was going to explode with
laughter. I had to play it all down of course. Inside I'm thinking
"Jeez, what a total eejit she really is."
Needless to say he has woken up today with conjuctivitis (pink eye.)
She's probably blinded him.

Then I told her about a Christmas lunch work has planned to a new restaurant in town
"Oh right," she says "I've heard it's terrible".
GREAT THANKS!

And then of course there was the day The Ex dropped off the kids and said
"Oh in case you're wondering why I'm wearing shorts," (I wasn't) "I'm away
to play tennis".
Next day he pitches up moaning about how sore his arms are and how he can
hardly lift them.
"Right," I say with my face deadpan "That'll be the tennis then".
"OH NO," he replies "it's not that. I don't know what it is, but it's not that, I think I'm getting the flu".
Well, you can picture my face - kind of a cross between incredulous and total disdain.

So you see, if I wrote a guest blog, it wouldn't be a sensible
moving account of my life and the people in it whom I treasure. It would
be all about how I spend every waking hour having to put up with
ex-partners and their miserable families and my stupid relatives and the
idiots at my work and all the trivialities that are driving me to
distraction.
But at least I've kept my sense of humour.....

The Highs and Lows.

Perhaps inspired by Balloon Boys antics the baby created her own stunt yesterday.
It involved her 'high chair.'
It would more appropriately called a 'low chair.' It's one of those chairs with a tray but no legs. Much more stable and safe - unless you put it on a table....

The baby is impatient. She asks for food (by shouting NAK!) loudly at me but does not like to sit in her high/low chair to wait for it. So there I was in the kitchen making the NAK!
The baby decided to mix things up and climb into her high/low chair by herself. Unfortunately it was in the high position ie: on a table. Also unfortunately, she declined to tell me of her intentions.

I heard a loud CRACK as the tray snapped off. I turned round to see the cause of the CRACK to see my sweet baby girl rag doll through the air. She had been standing on the tray. As a final insult she came down head first.

The worst part was the shock. She was so shocked. There was the terrible silence before the scream - it seemed to last for several minutes. She kept looking to me as if for an explanation of what just happened. She clung to me - as I watched an enormous purple bump rise on her forehead.

Then she got very quiet and sleepy. Uh oh. I see the ER in my future.
As I snuggle her and tickle her to keep her awake, I can see myself waiting outside her room at the hospital as the social worker comes to talk to me about putting highchairs on the table. Sigh.

Hindsight is so frustrating. I know I shouldn't put the chair on the table but my back asks me to. I need my back, I like to keep it happy. So I put the chair at eye level. I should say - I USED to put the chair at eye level. My back will have to suck it up from now on.

In the end the baby stopped exhibiting signs of concussion so I managed to avoid the chat with the social worker. Phew.
The bubble wrap hat looks really cute too.

Balloon Boy.

Have you noticed that when you become a parent you become more emotional?
If a news story involves kids or even puppies or kittens I am glued to the TV to see the outcome.

So, it should not surprise you that I was completely fished in by balloon boy. I sat in front of my TV consumed by hope for a happy ending for the best part of an hour. As the balloon slowly drifted back to the earth, I was literally on my knees, tears streaming down my face, praying that that little boy would be OK.

When it all turned out to be a giant hoax - how did I feel? Relieved.
I did not feel angry, ripped off or duped.
Then the storm hit. The insults started flying. I have to be honest it made me sad.
The Black Eyed Peas said it best - where is the love?
What happened to compassion?

The way I see it - these people really need help.
They have lost all perspective. They're not bad or evil. They're not a**holes or morons. They are misguided, confused, maybe desperate.

Parenting changes us. It makes us feel things deeply. We would do ANYTHING for our children and I think sometimes it leads us to missteps.
Sure they wasted an enormous amount of police time - they should have to compensate for that, no question.
Do we really all need to be slinging insults at them?

I'm thinking that at times I have done things that I am really glad happened privately.
I have made mistakes in parenting that I really regret. Now I know they invited the publicity they got but to me, that just shows how lost they are.

When did mud slinging ever work?
When you make a mistake don't you just want a hug?
Don't you already know you're getting it wrong and what you really want is help not a lecture?

It just all goes back to the same issue. We're tired, we're cranky, we're over emotional. Let's try hugging it out.

This message was brought to you by an over-tired and emotional mom.
You know where to send the hugs.
Thank you.

A Stitch in Time.

Halloween. One little word with so much behind it.
What I hear is costume. Actually I should say - costume drama.
The school the six year old goes to encourages independent imagination and creativity - so no media characters. In theory I love this idea. In reality it means lots of work for me.

She wants to be a mermaid. I need to make a mermaid costume that she can run and play in. She wants "shell boobies" I say not a chance, come back when you're sixteen.
She wants a wig and a trailing fish tail. I want a sewing machine and some sewing skills.

We will find a compromise - I will sew for days and she will love it however it turns out. The husband will be sick of hearing about it - probably by tomorrow.

That's for school. Then there's actual Halloween. We like to do a family theme. this year it's Wizard of Oz. I know what you're thinking - why not have a theme that involves a mermaid. I believe that makes me a flounder or a crab. I'm going with Glinda - thank you very much.

I am fully aware that I make this complicated for myself but really I wouldn't have it any other way. Halloween just wouldn't be the same if we didn't have a dining room table covered in fabrics. Now I just need the six year old to NOT change her mind......

Minnie and Me.

I have a(nother) confession. I put my baby in closets. It is something that I do with some guilt but only some.

Perhaps I should explain. When we go on vacation the baby usually sleeps in our room. So that everyone can get a little more sleep, if the closet is big enough, that's where the travel crib goes. Sometimes the closets are little more than built in wardrobes - we do leave the doors open (mostly.)

I have definitely felt this is something I should keep to myself. I was sure I was the only mother in the world that would do this. Then I watched Minnie Driver on Regis & Kelly. Is the fact that I watch Regis & Kelly another confession? Just for the record - baby is napping when I have the TV on. (In her crib - not the closet.)

Minnie Driver proudly talked about how her one year old son Henry goes everywhere with her. She then explained that wherever she stays she doesn't get suites she puts her son in the closet.
I feel absolved.
If she does it then surely others do to. Maybe it's not such poor mothering after all.
Maybe I'll confess all my parenting secrets and see just how partners in crime I have.
I can feel The Husband cringing.

Speaking of confessions. Several of you have told me that you are working on a guest post. Tick tock people....

Don't Forget....

To take advantage of 15% off for ParentingMyth readers.

http://theparentingmyth.blogspot.com/2009/08/go-green.html

If you happen to work with The Husband go by his desk to look at the products.

Duplicity.

Vacation is an interesting experience with children. Travel is often long and tedious and it takes all my reserves to keep the kids happy and occupied. Food is different which can mean minimal eating. Holiday accommodations don't have all the comforts or kid paraphernalia of home. Everything is an adjustment. I don't know about you but in our family, change and kids doesn't always go together well.

On the flip side - new things and new places are often exciting and interesting. Vacation is usually filled with treats - like daily ice cream. The six year old has thrived. Besides the ice cream - she has Grandad for constant entertainment. We have walked around a treetop walkway which made us feel like squirrels. We saw Grizzly bears on the top of a mountain. Beluga whales and their babies at the aquarium. We have bought treasures with our holiday spending money. It's just one fun thing after another.
Then there's the baby.

She has missed her naps, slept in a travel crib, spent far too many hours in her car seat or stroller. I have been feeling guilty. She has to go along with whatever we decide to do. Her routine is completely disrupted and her favorite foods are not in the markets here.
She has remained her usual cheerful, jolly self but I can see the effort involved.

Last night we went out for dinner. It was already her bedtime when we sat down at our table. I had brought food for her so she ate while we ordered and waited for our food.
Inevitably by the time our food came she was ready to go.
To add insult to injury the six years old's food arrived in a fabulous paper pirate ship. In a slot on the deck was a gold piece of eight - foil covered chocolate. The six year old was delighted.

The baby reached for it. At first I thought she wanted the food. I retrieved her a few bites. She tossed them on the floor. Then she started to get VERY cranky. My dinner started to get cold. I tried everything - songs, crayons, a book I had stashed in my bag. Each lasted less than a minute before she got cranky again.
Then I had the light-bulb moment. I asked the waitress for a paper ship for the baby.
She sweetly agreed.
It is a moment imprinted on my brain and heart. As the ship was placed before the baby she raised her arms above her head in victory and shouted a victorious cry. She was completely delighted. She put things in and out of it for 20 mins while we ate.

I need to remember - she wants everything her sister wants. Of course she does. Her age is irrelevant. She wants to try, do and eat in unison. She does not see limitation. As long as I do everything in duplicate, change might not be so difficult after all.

From Far and Wide.

I love Canada. It just has a something about it.
Getting here was the easiest journey I have ever undertaken. Our flight was quiet - so they very sweetly let me bring the baby on in her car seat. She slept the entire way.
The husband and six year old had their own row so I was able to have a cocktail and read a magazine. The bag of baby occupying tricks lay abandoned on the empty seat next to me.
Bliss. It really is the little things.

Our drive from the airport into Vancouver was stunning. Snow capped mountains in panorama.
The children obliged us again by listening quietly to Charlotte's Web on CD.
The Grandparents were standing outside the rental house waving as we pulled up and the six year old leapt from the (still moving?) car into Grandad's arms. I got 'something' in my eye again.

The rental house is fabulous. I have an obsession with bathrooms, mostly based on ratio.
There are four. The house itself is new, large and comfortable. Couple that with an incredible location. I am a VERY happy camper.

I have barely seen the kids. They are attached to the Grandparents at all times. One Grandparent is actually honorary. She is the dear friend of Grandad. We are all delighted she is here. It's lovely (and relaxing) to watch the six year old stroll past me in pursuit of her new favorite play pals.

The baby is also feeling the Canada vibe. She has been sleeping through the night and until 8am. I hesitate to say it out loud - it's like a little miracle.
When she wakes she is cheerful and has been entertaining the greater Vancouver public with her gummy smile and determined swagger.
She has walked miles, eaten unusual NAK! with gusto and is generally delightful.

The six year old has established herself as a fervent shopper. She has some holiday spending money but is struggling with the concept of spreading her purchases out over the week. She's like a kid in a candy shop. Wait she is a kid in a candy shop. Ahh, perhaps that's why my parental logic is falling on deaf ears.

The shops are calling us.......


Note: Picture is of Capilano Suspension Bridge, which we walked across yesterday.

Final Call.

Packing for me is a week long affair. A habit learned from my Dad - who likely had his case packed last week. The difficulty in packing as a parent is the unpacking that the kids and the baby, in particular, like to do.

Watching the baby run down the hall with something I have just washed, folded and packed was cute for the first time. Actually no it wasn't. Cute as she is, with her little diaper swagger and gleeful giggle - I really wasn't amused. Queen Victoria's got nothing on me.

It's just so endless. I have to make lists to make sure I don't forget something vital. Then I have to squeeze it all in to our cases - I am supposed to be leaving room for purchases. I'm thinking one of our purchases will be another case....
I try not to think about the fact that I will be doing it all in reverse in just seven days.

I think that Canada is one of the world's best and most civilized countries. I will have internet access the entire trip so I hope to keep up my posts while we're there. I might treat myself to a little vacation but I hope to see you all here in a few days.
Don't forget the archives if you have Myth withdrawal!
Wish me travel ease.