Puttering through life

The kids have been busy working with containers of water in the backyard all summer. They fill recycled containers with grass, leaves, berries, chalk or whatever they can find. Then they top up the containers with water. After a few days, we have ketchup bottles, pop cans, and jars filled with a yellowy coloured water. They set up a grocery store, restaurant or department store on a table or in the playhouse and sell this water. Now the kids are 5 & 8 years old and find humor in basic bodily functions. The yellow water was therefore called "pee pee water". Today the youngest (who is almost 6) came outside with a bucket to present to the eldest. While I should have guessed something was up. She was being coy and avoiding both my husband and me. She even had a mischievous grin on her face. I finally clued in when my son asked if she peed in the bucket. I finished hanging the laundry and asked her to show me the bucket. I sniffed and it was pee. She had come inside the house, peed in a bucket and took it outside! I was a bit shocked and flabbergasted. I started into a spiel that this wasn't a wise idea. She sheepishly asked if she should dump the contents in the toilet and surprised when I said yes. We washed it out but she asked me not to tell dad. I said I wouldn't tell dad because she was going to talk to him. I found out that he had inquired into what she was doing but had been told it was just water for outside. We didn't lose our cool but shared a smirk and puzzled look. I tried to focus the conversation on the importance of telling the truth and not peeing in buckets. Aaagh. This was not in any parenting book I have come across. My daughter...loving, insecure, sneaky, smart and funny. Gotta love her.

My folks arrived last night...just in time to take care of the kids while we toddle off to Boston. Weather prediction is good, only commitment is our concert on Friday night, no specific plans...things are looking good. We are sitting in the Porter lounge waiting for our connecting flight. Btw Porter rocks. They serve coffee, tea, cookies, pop all in a very comfortable setting. Plus they actually serve real food on the flights and even offer free glasses of wine. I think I have glimpsed a little bit of fine living.

J & I celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary today and I discovered he can still surprise me. He grabbed lunch for us and we ate the sandwiches outside by the river at work (it is nice to work at the same place). He presented me with a large manila envelope that contained a cartoon that depicted J giving me tickets to see (enter the drum roll here) The National in (hold your breath and be as surprised as I was) Boston.

I was speechless. We are flying out of town for a weekend to see a band live in concert. I feel like a young jet setting couple!

I love J so much for all the support, patience, encouragement and love he gives me. He rocks my world!

Monkey boy is seven now. Seven years! Holy crap, seven years! I still remember holding his wee body, panicking about the cries, and patting his back for hours while we tried to have him return to sleep in his crib. I still relish that sweet feeling of having him nap on my chest or seeing him sprawled between J and I with one of his hands touching me and the other touching J.

We marveled at his ability to commando crawl, walk, use sign language and talk. There were endless treks around the bed with his cars, constant talk about cars and trucks, and demands to drive on the busy highway.

There were a few years of anxiety over transitions and although the anxiety can reappear he has learned to cope and become confident. He has traveled to Alberta (several times), Mexico, Rome, and Montreal. He continues to snuggle with us but these occasions are fewer and farther between than in the past. He still needs his baby Clarence (stuffed monkey) and Pipsqueak (stuffed dog) along with a clock and night light in order to sleep. He has fallen in love with sports especially soccer. He loves the outdoors and being active. He is obsessed with playing electronic games (Xbox Kinect and Leapworld). He enjoys playing with his sister even if he has a lot of rules.

He is kind, loving, silly, and creative.

He is my monkey boy and I love him so.

Someone reminded me that I should write down some of the cool things my lil bug says before I forget. In the last two weeks, my girlie has said the following:

Lil bug: Momma, I'm falling in love with you right now.
Me: How come?
Lil bug: I don't know, I just am

Lil bug: Why do we have weather? (asked at 7:30am while looking at the rainy day)
Me: (brief explanation about how this is earth and that we have temperature and pressure changes, yadda, yadda)
Lil bug: I know how it rains. The clouds puff together, they puff and puff and puff, then they get dark and it rains.

Lil bug: Let's horsey wrestle
Me: What is horse wrestling?
Lil bug: We are horses that wrestle.
Me: Okay
Lil bug: I'll be pink pony and you be red bird. I'm going to get you.

Plus a few other things, but guess what I forgot already. These special years are going by too fast.

Bedtime with my lil bug is the best part of the day. Books have been read, lights are out and she asks me to snuggle with her for "let me count first,one, two, three...eleven. Oh that is too much, so ten minutes". Now snuggle time is not necessarily filled with sweet, endearing cuddles. It usually starts out with a litany of words. This is the time she rewinds her mind, spills her little heart out and figures out her next day. It is a great time to find out how she feels about things and what is bothering her. I often have to cut her off with a stern "okay we only have 5 minutes left". This is usually followed by kisses (now don't kiss me mom, I'm going to kiss you on the forehead)and huggies. Then all of a sudden she stops, she often puts her wee face directly into mine, flings her arm around my neck or uses my arm as a snuggle toy and then she starts snoring. It really is hilarious and wonderful.

The other night her litany words worked there way into telling me the following:

Lil bug: Momma you are almost the best
Me: I'm almost the best
Lil bug: Not quite momma but almost, I still love you though
Me: I love you too and you are the best to me
Lil bug: I'm the best, bester than my daddy
Me: Daddy is my best husband
Lil bug: Am I the best more than my brother?
Me: Your brother is my best son and you are my best daughter
Lil bug: Oh well you are almost the best

Now I did not worry about being almost the best as I knew I had been downgraded for the injustice I imposed earlier in the day. I said no to getting her more paints after I just finished letting her paint and told her I needed some time to sit and finish my tea. Well that no must have been devastating considering the meltdown she had and the ultimatum she had imposed "I won't stop crying until you get me more paint". I will give her credit she managed to pour out the tears for 30 minutes. It was a bad moment but she did manage to apologize later in the day saying I'm sorry I didn't stop crying but I was angry with you.

Aah the joys of being almost the best.

This blog does not receive enough attention. It is a good indicator about how I treat myself. I do not give myself enough time and care. For instance, this winter has been a crappy one health wise for me. I have had either a head cold or flu at least once a month starting in October. Two colds turned into strep throat with the second case requiring a stronger antibiotic one week after I finished the first round of antibiotics. This week to my joy and denial my monthly head cold became walking pneumonia. I feel okay other than achy shoulders, a wicked cough and lungs that feel like they are being squeezed in a very gentle but annoying way.

Today I'm grumpy and feeling sorry for myself. My body is telling me to slow down and smell the flowers. My head keeps spinning. I feel driven to run the treadmill of life because I want some form of control, some benefits. Well those benefits result in colds and a stupid self imposed schedule:
5:45am haul butt out of bed
7:00am board bus for the best half hour of my day...I read or knit and watch the sun rise or fill the sky
7:35am start work
4:00pm run to catch 4:06 bus (only to find bus full of university students who feel that their 10 minute ride must mean they have the limited number of seats). Note some days J is working at the university too...we can drive home together...I can breath
4:45pm I am home (if J not at university, he has picked up the kids cuz as usual I'm running late)
5:45pm food enters belly
6:00pm dishes (no dishwasher in our house...egad I live in the dark ages)
6:30pm play time with the kids.
8:00pm kids in bed but guilty mom still snuggles with her lil bug
8:30pm lunches and one household chore to keep up with things (Monday dust living room, Tuesday scrub kitchen floor and front hall, Wednesday laundry, Thursday garbage and dust bedroom, Friday no chores)
9:45pm flicking channels (nothing on as TV programs kind of suck lately and we don't have cable)
10:30pm bed and book
11:00pm or later sleep
hit repeat times 5 until Saturday where life is slightly more leisurely once you clean the bathrooms, do the laundry, go for groceries and vacuum.

Yet there is reason for optimism. Spring is here. My bike is ready to start being my "bus" to and from work (just have to get rid of my pneumonia first). The kids, J and I are loving the outdoors. Backyard is racked and holds promise (though in reality we need to overhaul it and plant some grass...but there is something rustic and natural about packed dirt and weeds). My monkey boy is turning 7 very soon, we are going to Fredericton NB pretty soon, and our annual trip to Alberta is booked.

I just need tell myself to step off the treadmill, stop making to do lists at 5am in the morning and find some flowers to smell (crocus' look out!).