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Yesterday, I mentioned the neighbourhood in which I grew up. I fondly remembered the fact that all the kids played together, up and down the street, without fear. The moms were watching.
Well, be careful what you wish for.
It seems our backyard is becoming THE place to hang out in the 'hood. And I'm not that fond of it.
Last night, for example, there were five kids here. Sonwun (4), Sontoo (2), B.A. (7) and two girls, both 8. Don't know the girls' names. Around these parts, it seems, these kids wander the neighbourhood and have no fear of entering someone else's backyard and playing with the toys.
And you know, given the state of the public playgrounds, I guess I can understand. There are fewer broken whiskey bottles in my backyard, and less drug paraphernalia laying around. (I try to stay on top of these things).
But I guess it's the age of these kids that concerns me. I mean, I don't think they're here to play with a four-year-old. I think they're here for the toys. And, apparently, to open my garage door and go through the contents to see if there are any toys I forgot to put out in the yard. That makes me uncomfortable.
This began a few weeks ago when B.A. and his friend, C.K., showed up out of the blue, wanting to play with Sonwun. Now, C.K. is at least the same age as Sonwun, so that wasn't a factor. However, it really concerned me that a four-year-old was wandering the neighbourhood by himself.
I asked around and discovered that he's been doing that for more than a year. Yes, he was wandering the street, unaccompanied, at the age of three, in the violent crime capital of Canada. That really bothers me.
One of the eight-year-old girls that showed up yesterday told Neomom that her mom had gone to a birthday party and felt the need to share that there would be "drinking" at the party. The fact that she pointed this out really bothers me. Why did she?
I want to be happy that Sonwun has kids to play with. I want to be happy that they are coming to my house to do it. That way, after all, I can keep an eye on him.
But I'm not.
Seven-year-olds and eight-year-olds are really good at manipulating and dominating four-year-olds. I don't like that.
And I don't like baby sitting the children of people I don't know. Aside from the fact that I'm not getting paid, I am concerned about what could happen if one of them fell of the swing, or fell off my deck. The world is becoming more and more litigious and I don't want to be on the receiving end of a lawsuit.
This is a new phase in my dad development, and I'm just not sure how to handle it yet. Do I ban the older kids? Do I try to contact the parents? Not sure I want to do that. Not sure I want a relationship with them, because given what I have heard and seen, I don't want to have to deal with an invitation for Sonwun to go play in their yard. Not gonna happen.
And you know, the final thing that bothers me is that I'm feeling a little like the "grumpy dad" of the neighbourhood and, worse, like a bit of a snob. I really hate both titles.
But the bottom line is that I'm looking out for my boys. I don't want either one wandering anywhere out of my sight just yet. Yes, the time will come, but it just ain't here yet. And I'm fine with that. Especially considering where we live right now.
Still don't know exactly what to do about all this. But for now, I guess I'll just own the grumpy dad and snob titles. 'Cause grumpy dad, is first and foremost a dad. And, in spite of what others think about that title, and what it means, I've got to go with what I believe it means.
Have a great Sunday! And Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there, especially my own.
Well, that didn't go as planned . . .
As I mentioned yesterday, with my back yard finally a more child-friendly environment, I invited four moms and their kids over for a "playdate."
I think I've mentioned before that this is a new concept for me. Growing up, we had a ton of kids in the neighbourhood. We played outside from sun-up to sun-down. My parents never had to worry, as every parent in the 'hood was watching us all and knew who to call if we started bleeding beyond what was considered acceptable.
No one EVER had to arrange a "date" on which to play. Every day was a playdate.
But I digress.
Here in Thompson, I know no one except the moms at playgroup. Playgroup was cancelled this week. Hence, the playdate invitation.
Of the four invitees, three didn't make it and the fourth sent her kids with her husband, who happened to have the day off.
You know, I'm thinking I'm just not one of the girls.
Sure, in retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that I'd chosen some great prizes for the wet t-shirt contest. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that I was baking my "special" brownies. And maybe the other moms just weren't that interested in the fact that I'd finally completed my International Porn collection.
Oh well, live and learn.
Okay, I know my mom and mother-in-law read this occasionally, so I should probably also point out that I'M KIDDING!
Once I get my hands on the German classic, Das Booty, then my collection will be complete.
Again, kidding, relax mom . . . But as for the playdate, the bottom line is, there's a nasty stomach flu going around Thompson right now, and it pretty much wiped out the potential playdate participants. Alas, there's probably at least another month or two of less-than-freezing weather up here, so we'll just have to do it another day.
I still had a good time with the other dad, watching the kids play and enjoying a coffee for an hour or so.
Anyhoo, the weekend's here. Unfortunately, Neomom is working, so the boys and I will just have to find ways to amuse ourselves. Sonwun is anxious to get out to the stores today to find a "love card" for Mother's Day. We'll see what he'd like to get her for a present. The last time I let him choose, he bought her mom a beach ball and a sticker book.
Ticked me off a little. That's what I was going to get her.
Have yourselves a great weekend! And hug your mom if you can!
Happy Friday!
So, the deck is complete. Well, to be more accurate, the decking part of the deck is complete. Still need to add stairs and railings. But I like what I've done so far.
And, yesterday morning, it being a balmy -8C outside, with no wind, I enjoyed a coffee on my handiwork. Loved it!
In addition to the deck, I feel I earned some extra dad points yesterday. Climbed about 20' up into a tree (okay, the first 10 I used the ladder) and hung a rope. Now, in most other places, it would be easy to find something to hang on that rope so that Sonwun could swing. I was thinking one of those disk thingies. A tire? No. He'd clock himself, or Sontoo, in the head with it. Guaranteed.
So, off I went to the local Canadian Tire and Walmart, as these are really the only places here in hell that might sell such an item. And yet, neither one did. So I searched and searched. And then I saw it. An eight-inch lawnmower wheel. With a half-inch hole for the axle. I used half-inch rope. A match made in heaven.
So I bought it, attached it, and the boy didn't leave the swing all day. And it was a fight to get him to come in for lunch, supper and bedtime. Yay! We also picked up a small play structure/slide combo for Sontoo. He seems to love that as well.
Anyhoo, with these backyard improvements in place, today I've invited a few of the moms from playgroup over. Playgroup was cancelled this week and I'm sure we're all a little starved for adult interaction. And I'm sure the kids would like some folks their own age to swing with, run around with and throw sand at. Good times all around.
This is my first time playing host for a "playdate," so I'll let y'all know how it goes.
Other than that, the weather is supposed to be getting nicer in the next four or five days, which should allow me to get my railings and stairs installed to complete the deck. Looking forward to it.
Have a Great Weekend!
Well, Happy Monday!
It's 5 a.m. and I've been up for an hour now. Anxious I guess.
The Deck: Still working on it. Neomom had the weekend off, according to her schedule. So, on Saturday morning, in spite of the below-zero temperatures, high wind and snow, I went to work. I just have to take advantage of Neomom's days off if I want to make any serious progress.
And it was a good day. I dressed for the weather and spent all day outside. I managed to finish the frame and get a fair bit of decking in place. My body protested, but the hot shower at the end of the day made it all worthwhile. And, I figured, if I put in the same amount of work Sunday, I could be enjoying my coffee on the deck Monday morning. Even if I had to wear a snowsuit, dammit, I was gonna do it.
Sunday morning, at 7 a.m., Neomom got the call. And she was off to Churchill . . . FOR THIS . . . most likely for a couple of days. The best laid plans . . .
But, in spite of this little fly in the ointment, I did manage to get a couple of hours in while the boys napped. Coffee on the deck will have to wait. Grrrr.
Anyhoo, it's -5C this morning with a forecast high of 5C. The rest of the week looks equally chilly. I will have to do my best to finish the deck, a little at a time, when the boys sleep. Next weekend, the temperatures are looking a little nicer. Hopefully, by then, I can enjoy my coffee on the deck.
Have a great week.
P.S. This one seems a tad disjointed. Tired. Don't sleep well when Neomom is away.
Well, the deck's coming along nicely, thank you.
My back is sore, my arms are sore . . . sucks getting older. Sucks being reminded you're getting older. I still attack a job like this as though I was 20. And in my mind, I still am. Until of course my body tells me otherwise. As it is this morning.
It's been more than 20 years since I worked in any sort of professional capacity as a carpenter. And during this particular project, I have Sonwun to remind me that I ain't the carpenter I once was . . . constantly.
"Okay, Sonwun, I don't want you hanging around her while I'm building. It's a little dangerous. So why don't you go back there and play in your sandbox."
"Okay."
Thirty seconds later, he's back.
"You missed the nail Daddy."
"I know Sonwun."
"You missed again Daddy."
"I know Sonwun."
"You sure hit the wood a lot Daddy."
"Back to the sandbox, NOW, Sonwun."
"Why is the nail all bendy, Daddy?"
"SANDBOX! NOW!"
Anyhoo, I got most of the frame done yesterday and hope to finish it up today, get it inspected tomorrow and put the decking in place on the weekend. I am really looking forward to coffee on the deck one of these days.
And, as I have a lot of work today, I'm gonna keep this short this morning.
Have yourselves a great Thursday. The weekend's on its way!
Well, I started building the deck yesterday.
And by that, I mean I started to find out whose permission I needed. And, as expected, City Hall wants its pound of flesh; actually two pounds. And why not? I pay a ridiculous amount of property tax on a 60-year-old house, a couple of "special levies" for garbage, recycling and, soon, water. Why shouldn't they collect a small chunk of change because I want to build a small deck?
I spent yesterday sketching and mapping out my plan and will take it to town hall this morning in order to obtain my Development Permit. Um . . . yeah. I'll let you know what develops.
Basically, this permit requires my sketching of my property, including the house, garage and proposed deck, showing measurements of the structure as well as its proximity to the neighbours' yards on two sides, and my garage on the other. I will swap this piece of paper, along with a $90 cheque, for the right to apply for a building permit.
To obtain a building permit, I'm told, I need to prepare and submit and sketch of my deck, showing the basic foundation and framing elements. In other words, the good folks at city hall want to be sure it won't fall over. Fair enough. And, in exchange for that bit of artwork, and a cheque for $60, I may construct my deck.
I should point out here that "Chris," the building inspector here in Thompson, was very friendly and helpful on the phone. He will be coming out to check on my progress once the frame is in place, but before I start on the decking. Again, fair enough. Don't mind paying one extra tax for this deck, but I think two is a little outrageous.
For the development permit, I will spend all of two minutes as the development officer looks over the plan, trusts my measurements, and rubber stamps the permit. Can't say I'm happy that it costs $90.
Anyhoo, that's what's happening here in paradise.
Have a great Wednesday!
So . . . -4 here this morning, forecast calling for two to four inches of snow. (Written Saturday - we got it all and more.)
Time to start thinking about backyard summer fun!
I look forward to the days when I can boot the boys out the back door and let them fight outside instead of in the living room. If I crack the kitchen window, just a little, I can filter out the standard whining noises ("Sontoo's looking at me!") and still leave enough room to hear any full-out screaming that might result from a broken bone or uncontrolled bleeding.
But there are a few things that need attention around the homestead. The three at the top of the priority list for this summer are:
1. New eaves troughs and fascia. The plastic troughs on the house right now are leaking at almost every joint. Why anyone would put those crappy things on a house is beyond me. But someone did and now I have to deal with it. Seamless troughs and aluminum fascia, all the way around, two storeys up. What fun! This will cost some money.
2. A deck out back. Someone put some nice patio doors off the dining room, but there's a three-foot drop from the doors to the lawn. The previous owners thoughtfully cobbled together a few crappy stairs to remedy the situation. They wobble a lot and, as the doors open out, you have to walk up them, open the door while backing back down the stairs and then walk back up and in. Kind of a pain. So I have to deal with that. And this will cost some money.
3. Some kind of play structure. And I'll admit I'm a little iffy on this one. Given the cost versus interest longevity ratio, it's still up in the air. The boys have a great sandbox, plenty of toys and nearby playgrounds (granted, the playgrounds are often covered in broken glass, graffiti and some drug paraphernalia). Do we really need to spend money on this?
(The rest written this morning)
Anyhoo, by a vote of one . . . Neomom . . . the deck has taken top spot on the list. I spent yesterday planning. Today I will take the plans to the local lumber yard for an estimate . . . just to know how much further in debt we will go. I also need to find out if a permit is necessary, how much that'll cost us and when I can get going.
I admit, it will be nice to work with my hands again. And, weather permitting, the boys can "help out" which will put us all outside, all day, at least for a little while. And hey, when it's done, if I fall off the roof while putting up the eaves troughs, I won't have as far to fall.
I'll try to get some pictures as I go, just for fun. But, before I do that, I need to buy another hard drive or two, as the one on my computer is pretty much full. Need to dump the 8,000+ pictures and videos on to a drive for storage. Oh, and this too will cost some money.
So, those are the summer plans. Wish us luck!
Okay, I'd been warned. Kiddies Northern Preschool is a Nut Aware Environment.
But, being the carefree, devil-may-care rebel that I am . . . I sent my son to school with Ritz cracker cheese sandwich snacky things. And you know, at the grocery store, when I bought them, I even checked to make sure they were the cheese variety and not the peanut butter ones. I try to be a good Nut Aware kinda guy.
But yesterday, when I picked up Sonwun from preschool, he announced that his cracker snacks were still in his Lightning McQueen lunch box. Oh, said I, didn't you like them?
"They have peanut butter in them," he said.
"What?????!!! Who told you that?"
"Teacher."
Well, was I embarrassed. Clearly I'd read the package wrong. Coulda sworn it said "Crackers with Real Cheese" on the front. No mention of the peanut butter.
So . . . we got home. I opened the lunch box. Taped to the offending snack food was a note, printed on Caution Orange paper.
"DUE TO LIFE THREATENING ALLERGIES WE CANNOT OPEN THIS SNACK AT PRESCHOOL THIS PRODUCT CONTAINS NUTS OR IS MADE IN A FACTORY THAT CONTAINS NUTS.
THANKS FOR YOUR COOPERATION
KIDDIES NORTHERN PRESCHOOL STAFF"
Yeah, it was in all capital letters. Kinda like they were yelling at me. At least they didn't write "Yo, butthead. Thanks for the ticking time bomb you thoughtlessly lobbed into the middle of a group of preschoolers. Nice move, you insensitive turd."
So, I took a closer look at the ol' time bomb from the good folks at Christie. I looked at the label: Yup. Crackers with Real Cheese. I looked at the substance between the crackers. Yup. Cheese. Orange in colour. I looked at the ingredients . . . no mention of peanuts, peanut butter or peanut oil.
And then, there it was, in tiny red print: "WARNING: MAY CONTAIN TRACE AMOUNTS OF PEANUTS."
Okay, fine, I screwed up. I sent my son to preschool with a snack that may contain trace amounts of peanuts. But, to be fair, I had no idea I'd committed this crime. And I simply do not have time at the grocery store to seek out the fine print on every product I buy.
I had no idea that this peanut allergy thing was so strict. I mean, seriously? Because peanuts are present at a factory, the snack is forbidden? Seems like we've gone a little overboard here.
I suspect that half the kids who show up at school on any given day "may contain trace amounts of peanuts." Toast and peanut butter for breakfast . . . unless a post-breakfast chemical decontamination is part of your daily routine, odds are pretty good your kid "may contain trace amounts of peanuts." I'll suggest slightly more than trace amounts on some of the less hygiene-inclined kids.
But, you know, even if I manage to get every trace of peanut butter off Sonwun before school, I can't escape the fact the HE was "made in a factory that contains peanuts."
Oh well, live and learn. I am now more nut aware.
Have a great Friday.
Couple of things going through my mind this Good Friday morning.
On top of the heap is a little bit of regret. I would love nothing more than to be planning a trip to one of my brothers' or sisters' homes for Easter dinner this weekend. And by that I mean I wish we lived closer together, and it was a regular thing. But it hits harder on the holidays.
The verbal abuse (in fun of course), the games, the jokes . . . the laughter. Maybe it's because we all live so far apart, but when we get together, it's always a party, a celebration and there is a lot of laughter. Yeah, today I really miss that.
And I guess this stuff came to mind this morning as I was making pancakes for the boys. It's their favourite.
Anyhoo, I turned on my iTunes as I was cooking and an ABBA song came up first. My sister loved ABBA when we were growing up. Which made me think of family.
I know, backwards segue there, so let's move on. To a worse segue.
The ABBA music also took me into a religious train of thought. (Hang on, it sorta makes sense.)
You see, I grew up in a Mennonite church, went to a Mennonite high school. And among the Mennonite traditions, if you will, was the belief that dancing was, well, evil.
(Standard joke: Why don't Mennonites have sex standing up? . . . . It leads to dancing. Ha ha ha)
So, how is this relevant? Well, when the music came on, both of my boys, at 2 and 4, immediately started dancing in their chairs as they waited for their pancakes.
"Let's dance!" said 2-year-old Sontoo from his high chair, wiggling his little bottom, waving his little hands and kicking his little feet under the table.
Ooooh, that's some evil stuff right there.
And I suppose this kind of thing is one of the myriad reasons I am not in church this Good Friday morning. I always thought the no-dancing rule (and several of the others) was a crock. But it wasn't until I had children that I realized just how big a crock it is.
Dancing, moving to music, is as natural as breathing. I didn't teach them to dance. Neomom didn't teach them to dance. They just hear music and they want to move to it. And they smile, angelically, ear to ear, when they do. If that is evil . . . I have learned in improper definition somewhere along the way.
Anyhoo, that and a few other things pretty much put me off organized religion ("the church" whatever that means to you) a few years back. And that's why I'm not there this morning.
But it's a gorgeous day, the sun is shining, I plan to get outside and enjoy it with my boys. Their bellies are full of pancakes and they're ready to dance.
I still wish, however, that they could be dancing and laughing with their uncles, aunts and cousins. Someday . . .
March Break . . . ugh.
Not so much of a break, really. I mean the boys aren't in school yet, but they do have a couple of activities each week to help them, and me, break the monotony.
But both preschool and playgroup have been cancelled this week. Because it's March Break. Ugh.
Yeah, I try to beat the boredom with exciting trips to the drug store, the accountant's office and the grocery store. But it's just not cutting it. Who knew?
And while the weather outside seems to be cooperating, the fact of the matter is, the warmth is enough to really get things melting, providing many puddles on top of the ice. And that means we last about 10 minutes in the great outdoors before someone slips and fills their pants and boots and mitts with ice water. Did I say ugh yet?
This morning, I've got two pair of soaking boots . . . well, two complete soaking outfits, and will likely have two young charges anxious to get outside. Supposed to rain this morning.
Do I sound like Eeyore? Feeling a little like him I guess. It's been a long freakin' winter, and we're only a little more than half-way through "the year of hell." I think I've mentioned the year of hell a few times, but for those that are unfamiliar, it's the year my wife must work regular shifts and then put in an equal amount of time doing homework and research. We're not seeing much of each other.
But this too shall pass.
Anyhoo, today is bath day. Oh joy. I must also get more stuff to the accountant so that we can get the taxes filed. And this year . . . drumroll please . . . we're actually getting a refund. First time in a few years. It's not enough to retire on or anything, but it beats the hell out of having to pay. So yay.
That's all I've got for today.
Have a great Tuesday!
Well, that's a surprise.
Sonwun, my fearless first-born, mild-mannered alter-ego of Batman Flash, the Caped Crusader, the Dark Knight, the dude with batropes, batarangs and other high-tech gadgets on his Bat Utility Belt fears . . . the Easter Bunny.
At playgroup Friday, the Easter Bunny made an appearance to hand out some candy and have his picture taken with the kids. Sontoo, the younger, took a moment away from his snack to walk over and have a look at the big bunny, and then returned to his little picnic table to enjoy the rest of his juice. Just really wasn't interested.
And I'm not one of those parents that is going to force him on to the lap of this giant, fluffy, freaky Hallmark creation just to get a "cute" picture of him screaming. Why do this?
Sonwun, on the other hand, found a spot in the gym as far from the long-eared devil as he could be. And then he came and hung out with me, keeping one eye on the creepy cottontail at all times and asking that I do my best to make sure it did not see him. And he remained with me until it left the building.
Couldn't get an explanation for this out of Sonwun, so I remain a little confused.
I mean I know why I fear the Easter Bunny, but it can't be for same reasons.
When I was growing up, the Easter Bunny was a fine, mythical character; never seen, existing only the minds of children, like the Tooth Fairy.
But over the years, it seems, profiteers have brought the bunny up out of the rabbit hole and into reality. Why? So that someone can set him up in the mall and charge $10 a pop for the kiddies to sit on his lap and have their picture taken. This was taking place here on the weekend.
In the case of the bunny at playgroup, though no money was exchanged, I couldn't help but notice he was wearing a large "Crayola" hat with the company logo prominently displayed.
Yeah, that's what the Easter Bunny needed: corporate branding.
And finally, I fear the old-school Easter Bunny because he brings gobs of chocolate into my home. And while I have no problem with my kids enjoying a little chocolate, the diabetic in my looks at it like a basket full of crack. I want it. I can't, or shouldn't, have it, but if it's lying around the house . . .
And while we're on the subject of chocolate death, I played host to a Parents and Tots board meeting Friday. Laid out a few goodies for the six members expected, including one of my all-time, pre-diabetic, favourite treats: nanaimo bars.
They didn't all get eaten, as only two board members showed up for the meeting. Plenty left over.
The following morning, Sonwun watched as I was cleaning up, and he spotted the nanaimos.
"What's that dad?" he asked.
"That," I answered, "is evil on a plate."
"I love evil."
Fears the Easter Bunny, loves evil. The teen years should be interesting times.
Have a great week!
Well, happy Monday!
I had big plans for this week, huge plans. Plans that would have been so very, very, very much fun. But some other bugger won the $40 million Lotto 649 jackpot, so I must once again put my big plans on hold.
So, new kid at playgroup. Turns out he's a friend of Sonwun from preschool and Sonwun was very excited to see him at playgroup. And I, therefore, was excited for him, ever so briefly.
The other kid? Let's call him, oh, I don't know, Fire.
And let's call Sonwun, um, Gasoline.
Now let's be clear. I have no delusions about my son. He's no angel. But, like gasoline, he's not too dangerous when properly controlled and contained. However, just below the surface he's a cauldron of potential energy just waiting to be ignited.
Enter Fire. Fire is, by nature, destructive. Left unattended, it grows and grows, consuming all in its path. And when it finds a can of gas . . .
Is that the karma train I'm hearing? Somewhere, some parent is blogging about Pit, my son, the Psycho in Training. Someone who has witnessed Fire and Gasoline careening about the bouncy house at playgroup with reckless disregard for their flying feet and the two-year-olds around them. Someone who watched the deadly duo take over the plastic playhouse and forbid entry to others. Someone whose readers are wondering, where is the parent?
Well, I'm there. And I'm doing my best to stay on top of the mayhem. But with the addition of fire, gasoline is occupying almost all of my time at playgroup, leaving little for the ever-clingy Sontoo.
My little gas can is still only 4. But I guess it's an opportunity to impart as many little life lessons as his little brain will absorb. Lessons about not following the crowd, about including others, about why flying tackles and headlocks are not generally welcome by strangers.
Anyhoo, that's my challenge in the coming weeks.
As for this week, instead of shopping for a nice condo in Whistler Village with my lottery winnings, I will be washing the vomit out of Sonwun's bedding, as this morning at 2, he woke up with a bad stomach. He's still asleep now, at 6:35 a.m., and here's hoping he feels better when he wakes up.
Neomom left half an hour ago for the airport and will be in Winnipeg for two days for court. Could be a long day.
In any case, have a great Monday, and a great week!
Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.
I'm bored.
As scintillating as conversations with a 2- and 4-year-old can be, I'm finding myself in need of adult discourse. Which is, of course, why I try to use big words here once in a while. Makes me feel smarterer.
The boys have reached the "knock-knock" phase of their humour education. Well, maybe not so much humour as joke-telling.
Example from Sonwun's repertoire:
"Knock-knock daddy."
"Who's there?"
"Banana!"
"Banana who?"
"Banana nana, farkle, foogle, doodle face."
This is, of course, followed by gales of laughter from both of my young charges.
It was almost cute the first 400 times. And, to make matters worse, Sontoo has picked up on the hilarity and tries to follow suit.
Summer's coming, summer's coming, summer's coming . . . I hope.
After an unseasonably warm beginning to March, we're getting bitch-slapped by the weather gods again. I knew the +10 temperatures were just a big tease, but I held out hope nevertheless.
But, as expected, the temperatures will fall back to the mid -20s this week, trapping us once again inside the house of humour. As a stay-at-home dad, I think I'm beginning to understand why valium was so popular in the 60s, 70s and 80s with stay-at-home moms. I'm guessing sales were off the charts in the winter months.
Anyhoo, enough bitching for one morning. Yesterday was a particularly violent day at playgroup. Sonwun took a good belt from teeter-totter seat under the chin. Bruised, but not broken. No blood, all good.
Little Bitty had a rough day too. She ran up against an 18-month-old with an attitude almost as big as hers. Bitty was doing her slide domination routine and the little 18-month-old was having none of it. This sweet little angel wound up and delivered a right hook to Bitty's left eye that Ali would have been proud of.
I did my best not to laugh. But if mommy ain't gonna teach the rules, the playground will. Kids have a remarkably pure sense of right and wrong, as well as justice. It's sometimes quite refreshing to watch.
Anyhoo, that's been my week thus far.
Have a great Thursday. The weekend's almost here . . . and summer's coming.
You'll have to forgive me for dwelling on Sonwun's art, but I'm truly fascinated. In spite of the tongue-in-cheek "critiques" I've offered in the past, I do believe the art is a reflection of what's going on inside his little head. And I just think it's really, really cool to see it expressed on paper.
The latest evolution is stick figure stories.
Up until now, he's pretty much stuck to individual works, Rainbow Hands for example.
But yesterday he really started into the stick figure stories. And again, there was no prompting for it. He just sits at the dining room table and goes about his business while I clean or fold laundry or whatever.
He called me over and showed me his latest work. It was a stick figure standing beside a boxy-looking thing.
"What's that," I asked him.
"It's me, and that's a swing."
"Cool!"
"And I'm going to make you," he said, "so you can push me on the swing."
And he did. He drew a bigger stick figure which apparently represented me, standing on the other side of the swing. I just think that's cool.
This morning he drew another picture. This one of two stick figures, one larger, one smaller, standing on either side of a boxy-looking thing that seemed to have a knob or handle on it.
"What's that?"
"That's you and mommy," he said.
"And what's this," I asked, pointing to the box.
"It's the refrigerator. You're getting breakfast for me."
Okay, we don't have arms in the picture, which would make getting breakfast a little more of a challenge, but I do notice we're both smiling. That's kind of a relief for me, as I'm home all day, every day with the boys and, yes, I do get annoyed and frustrated at times with their antics. I'm not always smiling.
It's just nice that, inside that little head, and on paper, I'm still smiling.
Have a great Monday!
All righty then . . . it's 7:15 a.m., which means my body believes it to be 6:15 a.m. with the changing of the clocks.
Sonwun was up twice last night, each time to empty the contents of his stomach. First round required a change of bed linen. Second time I heard the whining tremors and managed to get him to the bathroom prior to eruption. Yay for me.
I stayed awake until . . . hell, I don't know . . . it was dark, I think one of the clocks said 3:30 but I don't know if it was one of the ones that we changed or not . . . doesn't matter, dark, no sleep, ugh. I was hoping to catch him before he filled the bed with round 3. Round 3 never came.
Anyhoo, bottom line, tired.
So yesterday we went to Paint Lake . . . it's where Thompsonites go to get out of Thompson. It's a provincial park about 20 minutes south of town. And we had a great time tobogganing and playing in the snow.
We collected about an hour of video of our adventure and I spent much of yesterday afternoon and evening putting together a five-minute video, complete with cool transitions and music, to share with all of you.
But I can't get the damn thing to upload. Maybe it's too big or something, I don't know. But trust me, it was really, really cool!
So, instead, I offer a few clips from the day.
Please do me a favour and sing "The Boys are Back in Town" by Bad Company as you watch, as that is the music I had in the five-minute movie. I also wanted to try Kool and the Gang's "Celebration" with it, so you can sing that one if you'd like. It probably works. It's a short clip, so just sing the chorus. Thank you.
In this clip, we hit a bump at the bottom of the hill and Sonwun goes flying out of the sled. You can't really see the exit, but you'll notice when we glide to a stop, he's no longer in the sled.
Okay, second clip. If you were singing The Boys are Back in Town on the first one, sing Celebration on this one. And vice versa. Neomom hits the same bump I did and, again, Sonwun gets the worst of it. But this time you can see it, AND, he managed to stay on the sled. Enjoy!
So let's start with a few updates:
1. Mom came through her surgery just fine Wednesday. I'm told they were able to get all of the tumour that had invaded her bowels. It was in fact cancerous and it had spread to her liver. There were two spots on the liver they were able to "zap" (still not sure what that means) and it's all looking pretty good.
Thanks all for the good vibes, prayers and positive energy.
2. Got the truck back. New engine installed, seems to be running great. No charge whatsoever, which I'm very happy to report. I know that the truck has a 3-year, 60,000K, bumper-to-bumper warranty and all that, but I guess the cynic in me just expects someone to tag on a fee, or a tax or something that's not covered by the warranty.
But nada. Not a dime. That's good. Almost, almost makes up for the fact that it took a little over a month to get done— and no loaner!
Anyhoo, it's Friday, playgroup day.
In the last couple of months, I was charged with changing Parents 'n' Tots playgroup to Thompson Parents 'n' Tots Inc.— a legally incorporated entity that could obtain insurance, accept donations and, hopefully, run with a little more organization.
That was accomplished this week.
The next step is to make it a legal, non-profit charity so that we can issue tax receipts to those kind enough to make donations.
It's a bit of a rough road, as I am finding it difficult to impress upon some of those running the show that we need to have regular meetings, keep minutes of those meetings, discuss EVERYTHING we intend to do and keep track of the money in a responsible and government approved way.
Hopefully, by the time I leave Thompson, everything will be in order and will continue to operate smoothly after I'm gone. But, as I said, long, rough road ahead.
Gotta admit, I had never even thought about incorporating anything and I enjoyed learning about the process, completing and filing the paperwork and having it all work out. As a stay-at-home parent, I haven't had too many opportunities to exercise my brain. Nice to know it still works.
So that's been my week. All in all, not too shabby.
Have a great weekend.
So . . . we didn't end up at Paint Lake yesterday. Instead, we headed to a toboggan hill in town, across from the Tim Horton's. Double bonus.
Went for a few runs, but the boys didn't seem too interested, as the hill was not very fast, due to the warm weather. Sonwun was also not terribly interested in the pull-your-own-toboggan-back-up-the-hill deal.
Neomom had pulled the boys to the hill in their little red wagon. I won it at the RCMP golf tournament a few years back and it has served us well. But the wheels are bent and the boys don't quite fit any more. Well, they fit, but they fight and whine over foot space, which makes our little walks more than annoying.
And so, armed with two Canadian Tire gift cards, we left the hill and headed for the store to replace said wagon. Too early. They had one type of wagon in stock and it was larger, but still plastic, with plastic wheels. And for the walks we intend to take come spring, we'll need something a little more sturdy. So the wagon will wait.
Instead, we used our gift cards to buy much needed dinnerware. The stuff we have, and have had for the last eight years, is badly chipped. Neomom's been searching for the right replacements for about six months now. And, believe it or not, we found something acceptable at Canadian Tire. (Not too many options up here— pretty much Canadian Tire or Walmart).
And, as we had the boys in tow, we got suckered into some Lightning McQueen dinnerware as well. Fair enough.
We followed that up with a trip to Quiznos for lunch, and the video store for some evening's entertainment.
All in all a good day. Neomom has a week "off" and will be working through it to catch up on her homework. But she took yesterday off off and spent it with us. Which was great!
But today, as I write this at 7 a.m., she's outside taking tire print measurements on the minivan. The weather cooperated last night and delivered a light snowfall, which makes getting the impressions and measurements possible. It's one more thing she can check off on the long list of assignments she must complete this year.
The boys and I will go grocery shopping this morning, Sonwun has preschool this afternoon. That's the plan.
Finally, please keep my mom in your thoughts and prayers. She is going in for surgery on the carcinoid (sp?) tumour tomorrow. No reason to think it won't go well, but all positive energy directed her way is appreciated.
Have a great Tuesday.
I admit it. I'm behind the times.
Thought I could keep up, but it's moving just a bit too fast these days.
So let's talk Youtube, shall we? Interesting concept, interesting place. People post videos of every kind, that they've created or re-recorded, for the world to see. And I do mean every kind.
But that's not what I'm thinking about today. Youtube is also a hosting site for videos that you don't want the world to see. And that's what I'm trying to use it for.
Not that I'm posting nasty stuff, I'm just not sure I want the world to see Sonwun and Sontoo just yet. At least not on that forum. Don't know why, maybe I'm just paranoid.
But when I create a video of the boys, I have a hard time emailing it to their aunts, uncles and grandparents. They are generally too big to email. Enter Youtube.
As I type this, I've attempted to upload my second video. I tried one earlier today, but apparently due to copyright laws, the music (5,000 Miles by the Proclaimers) was disallowed and removed from the video.
The video was of Sontoo's early walking experiences and the song made it work. Without the music, it just isn't near as much fun. So I deleted it.
The second video is of the boys at a playground, shot today. And it's more of an experiment to find out if I can do this, keep it private but share it with those I'm comfortable with.
- - - - -
That was a break for supper, bedtime and all that.
- - - - -
Didn't figure it out yesterday. It's now 6 a.m. and I will keep trying today, as the boys permit. I did manage to post the video and several family members were able to view it. But I can't do it, yet, when the video is private. Hmm.
Anyhoo, yesterday was a good dad day. I made peanut butter cookies, walked the boys to a park to play and managed their favourite supper, chicken fingers (home made), tater tots (not so much home made) and corn.
Plans may have already changed for today, as we are looking at going to Paint Lake to take advantage of the 10C weather. Time will tell.
Anyhoo, have a great week and, if you have any Youtube suggestions, let me know.
Well, March indeed came in like a lion. And I'm not talking about the weather.
I am talking about Sonwun and his art.
I have been tracking my young artist's work from the early days of scribblism, through dot-to-dotism, through realism and through attempts by "the system" to destroy his artist's heart and creativity. You'll find the journey chronicled here and here.
Go check 'em out. I'll wait here.
Anyhoo, true to form, last night Sonwun made another epoch-shattering explosion in the art world with the creation of his latest work, Rainbow Hands. And these works are his greatest leap forward since his first foray into realism with his piece "Me, Balancing on my Boinger."
And, just like the Boinger piece, this one came out of the blue.
Sontoo and I were going through the bedtime routine; warm milk in the living room, followed by stories, hugs and night-night upstairs. I noticed Sonwun was working in the living room as Sontoo had his milk, but I didn't pay attention.
He's been stuck in a bit of a creative rut of late and had reverted to monochromatic scribblism in, I believe, an attempt to get back to his artistic roots.
It happens to a lot of artists. They achieve a measure of commercial success, accolades, a prized spot on the Kenmore Art Gallery and they lose focus. It becomes about the money, the fame . . . not the art, for art's sake. Boinger had that affect on Sonwun's work.
But last night, after night-night for Sontoo, I returned to my comfy chair in the living room to watch Gordon Ramsey swear at people (it's okay, it was all bleeped out), when Sonwun presented me with "Rainbow Hands."
I was stunned. Speechless. It was beautiful.
Not only was it a complete departure from his earlier works, it demonstrated a new maturity for my young artist. Sure, he stayed within the lines, but the artist's heart was beating out a fresh and exciting form of expression.
Now, as his patron, I can fully appreciate his message in a way that the average observer, or critic, can not. Rainbow Hands speaks of Sonwun's desire for friends, his dissatisfaction with Michael Ignatieff's role as Leader of Canada's Official Opposition, his love of chicken fingers, his joy in Canada's gold medal victory in hockey, his desire for a clean, renewable energy source, his belief that Ford Canada should provide a loaner vehicle if a Ranger with 13,000 kilometres on it breaks down and needs a month worth of repairs, his love of Superhero movies and his prayer for peace in the Middle East.
It's all there, in multi-chromatic glory. We are many colours, one hand. Let's work together.
As I sit here this morning, I can hear the rattle of Crayola markers. Sonwun is up bright and early, anxious to continue his work, his message. And I can't wait to witness the next artistic evolution.
In the meantime I present, for the first time anywhere, Rainbow Hands:
Have a great weekend.
Let's talk toys today, shall we?
I've learned a fair bit about them in the last four years and it seems only right that I should share just in case any of you have young 'uns and are venturing into the marketing hell hole that is children's toys.
Sontoo just celebrated his second birthday Sunday. Well, technically, he won't even be celebrating his first birthday until 2012, as he is a leap year baby, born February 29. But we go through the motions each year anyway.
Anyhoo, Sontoo loves cars, specifically the Matchbox, Hotwheels size. And so, for his birthday, we purchased the Hotwheels Monster Jam Show-Off Showdown. It's a folding "hill" covered in obstacles that a little Hotwheels monster truck is supposed to race down. There are actually two lanes, so two trucks can race head to head.
Now, granted the toy is recommended for children ages 3+, so factor that into my critique.
And my critique begins with, IT'S CRAP.
Let's start with the fact that it only comes with one monster truck. Two lanes, one truck. That kind of thing pisses me off. It's kinda like the Nintendo Wii coming with only one Wiimote, or my old PS2 coming with one controller and without a memory card. I hate buying something that requires me to buy five more things to fully enjoy it.
But that is not my biggest beef with the Monster Jam Show-Off Showdown. It's biggest flaw is stability. When it is unfolded for play, the joints don't lock together in any meaningful way. And so, when played with, even by 4-year-old Sonwun, it collapses . . . a lot. And then it falls apart. That is frustrating, not only for the children, but for dad, who must reassemble it and set it back up every few minutes.
I suspect it would fair slightly better, but only slightly, on carpeted floors. But on hardwood, forget it.
Overall, don't buy it. Don't waste your money. It's flimsy, incomplete and frustrating. These are not highly sought-after virtues in toys.
It disappoints me on several levels. First and foremost, I paid money for it. Second, it's a Hotwheels product. And I thought, based on my own childhood experiences, I could trust the Hotwheels brand. Um . . . no. At least not this time. It's just crap.
Now, having provided a negative, allow me to finish with a positive. Geotrax. Worth every penny. It's an expandable train set made by Fisher Price. And I like almost everything about it.
The track pieces are solid, virtually unbreakable by two very active boys. They go together well, stay together well and provide hours of entertainment. You can start with a small set and build up with each birthday or holiday until you have enough track to cover the rec room floor.
And, both boys have loved it; Sonwun preferring the remote-controlled, battery-powered trains and Sontoo, who would rather push a non-powered train around the track by hand.
If it has a downside, it's battery consumption. The little train we have eats Duracells for breakfast and it goes through a fair number, even with the automatic shut-off that kicks in after a few minutes of use.
Anyhoo, those are my thoughts this morning. Monster Jam Show-Off Showdown bad, Geotrax good.
Have a great Tuesday!
