Is this the Road to Pyeongchang?

We've had a tough go of it since Christmas. We're on Snow Day number seven and it doesn't look good for school tomorrow. The Arctic Vortex has had us in its icy grip for three weeks and with windchill temperatures in the -30C range. Buses haven't just been cancelled, the school has actually been closed for four day which hardly ever happens. My Other Half's drive to and from work has been a constant white-knuckler and I'm starting to understand why No.1 Son is in no rush to get his licence since turning 16 at the beginning of the month. The number of cars we've seen in ditches and spinning around in circles is enough to put anyone off from driving.

The front of our manufacturing plant, they've had to dig out the two doors to get in every morning.

But there has been some good times too despite all the wintery weather as we are, first and foremost, a ski family after all and the snow on the hills has been amazing.

No. 1 Son had a top ten finish in his first race over Christmas and then was discouraged by his results in the next two but that made his third place finish last weekend all the sweeter. He has worked so hard, both on the hill and off and no one deserved it more. He has another race tomorrow and is then off to Lake Placid on Sunday for some more training and then back for a CanAM series so fingers crossed.

Ben (on the right)

No. 2 Son has had and has been a bit of a challenge, to say the least, after coming second in his first race he had a set back, fracturing his T1 vertebrae over Christmas so he was off for three weeks but came back strong and finished in the top ten in his second race. At home it's been even more challenging as he approaches his 14th birthday. He is the master debater in our house and I can only hope he finds a career that rewards his verbal dexterity and single-mindedness. In the meantime he has been fortunate enough to spend lots of time with his grandfather who has infinite patience and gives him the attention he so craves.

Cam (on the right)

No. 3 Son trucks along at his own break-neck pace, still hating school and loving every moment outside whether on the hill, across the street at our neighbours backyard skating rink or mini terrain park. If and when we ever sell this house (and I'm not holding my breath with our evermore frustratingly-full-of-excuses real estate agents) he will miss his gang of like-minded boys in the neighbourhood. After conquering his fear that his torn ACL would hold him back he also had a disappointing first race which was a good wake up call for the boy who is used to winning everything. And he did come second in the latest race and is looking forward to his next one on Friday.

Griff (third from the left)

I hope the Arctic Vortex heads back up north soon, the dog and I are tired of being stuck inside and he really doesn't appreciate the snow up to his chest when he has to go outside and lift his leg. Now I'm off to the high school to do course selection with No. 3 and not quite sure how it is possible to have two almost high school age sons. No. 1 is the same age as I was when I met his father but no girls in his life (that I know of) so far which I guess is not a bad thing as his sights are set much higher than placing in a few races on the Niagara Escarpment. Maybe this is the road to Pyeongchang.

Little people, little problems. Bigger people, bigger problems.

I've heard this a lot lately and I've even repeated it myself to parents of younger kids. But no matter what the age and stage when you're in the middle of it, it all seems overwhelming so I was so glad to read a post by Kay at the MOAT blog. There are many blogs devoted to new parents and young children but they seem to peter out by the time their kids are into adolescence. I guess partly because so many of us are back at work full time or are just consumed by the endless chauffeuring, grocery shopping, meal planning and cooking for a herd of hungry tween and teenagers. And, as we all know, it doesn't get easier, just more complicated. No longer are play dates planned around the parents we want to hang out with, now we either spend time hanging around arenas, soccer pitches or gyms waiting. Picking up and dropping off at the movie theatre or a friend's where they are hanging out. I now know not to have my first glass of wine before all are home and accounted for. A couple of times I was caught about to settle in in front of the fire with my favourite Cab Sauv and a book when I remembered I was single parenting and there was one or more kids who still had to be picked up.

Kay's photo of the swings in the front yard of a house reminding her of the hours spent pushing one or another child took me back to simpler times. Our swing set/jungle gym which we got when our oldest was two is now primarily used by the boys as a launching pad for any number of STBT (Stupid Teenage Boy Tricks). She was at a panel discussion by Grade 8 parents and one of the things someone said was that their kids can't play with others until they can treat one another with respect. That's a tough one around our house right now. My boys are horrible to each other, the taunts, teasing and put downs are endless and they always hit the other where it hurst the most. They know one another's weak spots and go for it. So I came up with a new consequence - for every put down or negative comment they have to clean a toilet. Now since they are the ones who are responsible for the horrendous state of the toilets in the first place I feel this is a win-win situation and, although I can't imagine a time in the future when there is neither a dirty toilet to be cleaned or a negative comment free day, a MOB can dream.

As for the bigger problems that come with bigger kids we are just entering into that territory. School is the biggest issue and one that is going to unfortunately cost us money to deal with. Number One Son is most likely going to a private ski school next year and, as we have decided to move, the other two will be changing their schools as well. Number 2 has just realized that despite all the bullying issues he has dealt with over the past few years, it is still a little scary to think about changing schools for grade 8. I know it will be tough but hopefully in the end it will get us all where we want to be. They boys closer to the ski hill, their friends and busy on and off the snow. We all know that the key to keeping kids out of trouble is keeping them busy and while I haven't had to deal with our eldest partying I have heard from other parents that it has begun. Numbers 2 & 3 will probably more than make up for their introverted eldest brother who didn't even want to go to his own coed bowling birthday party which we hosted with three other families.

I really do believe and know that we are not doing our kids any favours by giving them everything and doing it all for them whether it's at school or at home and, as I have said a million times, I do not want to be the mother-in-law who my future daughters-in-law hate. Therefore, along with cleaning toilets, my boys will be doing laundry, vacuuming and generally helping to keep the house clean for any up-coming open houses or showings *shudder* because, here we go again. It's been six years in this house and right on schedule, we're moving.  No. 2 will not be getting the outrageously expensive camera he wants for his birthday but instead we will give him a bit of money and I have helped him to line up a mother's helper job for the summer so that he can earn and save money to buy the camera if he still wants it. No. 1 will be doing summer school to get a head start on grade 10 and No. 3 well, I'm still working on what to do with him but I do know that they will all be put to work clearing the lot once we get it in anticipation of building the house. Boys and chainsaws, what could possibly go wrong?

Sometimes Nice Guys Do Finish First

Sunday was that most dreaded day of the year - Club Championships for the three ski racers in our family. Luckily for me my Other Half gave up racing when he became the sole proprietor of our business. There isn't enough disability insurance in the world to cover us if he was hurt and couldn't work. As for me? I am waiting until I am in the over 80 category when I hope I will be the only one left standing or at least with all body parts intact. My competitors will either have to enter in the Bionic category or else won't be walking after all the injuries and joint replacements they are already enduring in middle age. As for the boys, it was a learning year. All three were in the lower half age-wise of their categories so even Number Three wasn't expecting to be on the podium as he has done in years past. But he and his middle brother acquitted themselves well, coming in fourth and fifth respectably. Number One who works the hardest still has yet to break into the top ten of his group and it has been a frustrating year. He started out with high hopes after he got back from training in Colorado in November when his coaches told him he was one of the top skiers but as the season progressed he fell back into his old ways. No anxiety attacks this year but over-thinking every race. He is conservative and cautious by nature just like his father and that coupled with the fact that many of his peers have bulked up considerably and he is still skinny as a rail he just isn't quite there yet.

Saturday night he wasn't feeling great but was still game to go in the morning. He had an okay first run but fell in the second and when everyone gathered for the prize-giving he really wasn't feeling well but I told him we had to stay and cheer on his buddies. He lasted about halfway through the awards and then finally said he had to go home. My Other Half and I both went with him and left the other two with my sister. When we were almost home my sister called, screaming, "He won! He won! You missed it. He won!" Every year they award a trophy to the athlete who best exemplifies good sportsmanship and dedication. Earlier that afternoon, as we were walking the dog, I had remarked to my Other Half that I hoped this award would go to a kid who really deserved it, not just to another top racer who won all the time anyways as it seems to have over the past few years. Those kids get lots of recognition but the ones like my eldest who love the sport and try their best every time but just don't have that extra something to get on the podium, they rarely get recognized. Until now. As my sister relayed what the head coach had said about it being a unanimous decision voted on by all the coaches and the club cheered as my son's name was called, I couldn't believe we had missed it. I know that for my very shy son it would have been agony to go up on stage but for me, as a parent, a field that hands out very few awards for raising a great kid, I would have loved it. We did receive lots of congratulatory emails from our friends and the two little brothers were, of course more than happy to accept on his behalf. And, I know, it's not about me but I am going to make damn sure when he graduates from Grade 8 this June that I am in the front row to take all the credit for my wonderful first born.

Numbers Two and Three proudly accepting on behalf of their big brother

And, once again, I lost it

Last night as I was lying beside Number Two son before he went to sleep he dropped a bomb. This is his MO every night. He desperately wants me to "sleep with him" and when the boys were little this was my favourite time of day, I would lie next to them in their beds and fall into that wonderful half wake/half asleep place where you are warm and cozy and relaxed. The downside was that sometimes I would really fall asleep and then have to wake myself up to go get into my own bed where I would then be wide awake for the next hour or so but still it was nice. Now? it's a nightmare of demands from all three boys but Number Two has raised it to an art form. There are three kids (what were we thinking?) and only two parents. Numbers One and Two generally get into bed around the same time but I usually start by lying with Number One Son because he is younger, is ready first and calms down more easily than his middle brother. This is a sticking point, of course because although No. 2 doesn't like going to bed at the same time as his little brother he also doesn't me lying with him first. Problem with the logistics? Yes but, of course, he wants his cake and be able to sleep with it too.

So back to last night, my Other Half lay with No. 3 while I went into No. 2's room steeling myself for whatever issues might come up this time. It started out fine until he said, "I don't want to go to Vermont." Now he and I are going skiing with his team for a week, something he has been looking forward to for months. He counts the days off on the calendar and he has already started packing. Where the hell did this come from?

I took a deep breath and asked, "Why?"

"I just don't want to go now," he replied. Sticking his face into the pillow to hide.

Again, breathing deeply, I asked, "Why?"

Nothing. Now I was getting mad. He has been bugging us about ski trips and camps and everything else under the sun. His Christmas list reads like Best Buy catalogue and he has demanded everything under the sun from guitar lessons to workout classes which he does for a while and then gives up. I couldn't believe he was now saying he didn't want to miss school for a week to go skiing with his friends. He had already complained about the fact that we were driving with another mother and her son and sharing a condo with them to cut down on the expense and we would be making our own meals instead of eating out which had not endeared him to me. YOU ARE GOING TO MISS SCHOOL TO GO SKIING! What else do you want?

So now, ten days before we leave, you don't want to go? Huh? I lost it. Yelled about how ungrateful he is and how we don't have to go or maybe I would take one of his brothers instead. Finally he said, "I don't want to go because we have to play hockey and I don't even know how to skate and everyone is going to laugh at me."

This is when I should have calmed down, been understanding and made him feel better about his legitimate, if slightly ridiculous, concern. But I didn't. Instead I left the room and told his father to go in and explain why playing hockey while on a ski trip was going to be fun and not everyone will know how to play and it certainly isn't a reason not to go. He did all this and No. 2 calmed down somewhat and I did go back in and tried to be sympathetic but in the end I went to bed mad at myself, mad at my son for making me mad and generally feeling like once again I had let everyone down.

It's so hard. Right now it feels like there is no upside to this whole parenting gig and with Christmas around the corner the stakes are even higher. We are supposed to be fostering peace and goodwill towards all men and I can't stand the three junior versions I live with. I should be looking forward to decorating the tree and being together as a family and all I can think about is running away. My Other Half is incredible and he steps in when he knows I am going to lose it but what I need to do is break a really bad pattern that has developed around our house. One of jumping to conclusions, anticipating that someone is going to say something hurtful and generally being a very grumpy mother most of the time.

I should look at this week away with only one boy as a pre-Christmas gift. We will have time together, one-on-one. We are travelling with a fun group and I will have some time on my own while the kids are skiing and I will only be cooking for two not five. My Other Half and Numbers One and Three will have a more laid back time without us in the mix. It may, in fact, be the best thing in a while for all of us.

And he's off

Number One Son and his Dad in Colorado - age 6

I'm up at an ungodly hour because my Other Half and Number One Son left an hour ago to head to the airport. He is off on his first solo trip with his ski team to Colorado for ten days. Of course after saying goodbye - twice - I couldn't get back to sleep but luckily neither of the other boys have woken up yet. I am so excited for him but unbelievably nervous. Nervous about the airport, they have 15 kids travelling with three coaches and travelling nowadays is so much more complicated than when I took my first trip alone. Then, of course, there's the worry about the fact that they are going to train for ski racing and will be spending all day, every day careening down the mountain at crazy speeds. He has a North American plan on his phone so he can call and text us when ever he wants which won't be often enough for me but at least I can remind him to brush his teeth via text. He didn't take my advice to pack a pair of underwear and his toilet kit in his carry-on bag since for him the only priority is that the airline doesn't lose his ski or boot bag. Clean underwear be damned.

Back when I took my first solo trip to visit a friend in Colorado for Spring Break things were very different. I think we arrived at the airport less than an hour before the flight and my Dad might have even been allowed to come to the gate with me. Today they will be checking in two hours in advance in the hopes that they all make it through customs and security in time to board the plane. We had to make sure he has enough cash to pay all the baggage fees at check in on the way home even though the surcharges added to the cost of the ticket were already well over $100. But Number One is a seasoned traveller, he knows how to stand in line, remove his shoes at security and hopefully they will have a few luggage carts to carry all the skis since manoeuvring three bags through the customs maze will be tricky.

Carry on bag circa 1980 (14 year old girl)

• Seventeen magazine
• paperback copy of latest Judith Krantz novel
• toilet and make up kit with lots of hair scrunchies
• Le Sport Sac bag to hold everything
• laminated birth certificate
• American cash to shop at the GAP (which hadn't yet come to Canada)
• reminder to buy film, take pictures and send post cards to my grandparents

Carry on bag 2011 (13 year old boy)

• Archie comic digest
• Kobo ereader loaded with sci fi series, iPod, Blackberry with three different chargers
• sandwich, granola bars (since the airline only takes credit cards to buy food on board)
• Billabong back pack to hold everything
• passport, letter of consent to travel alone across the border
• debit card to shop for gifts for his brothers ;-)
• reminder to take pictures and send them in emails to his grandparents

So I will be spending the day nervously waiting to hear they have arrived safely or at the very least I hope to get a text ;-)

Bridesmaids and the Mother of the Boys

We finally watched Bridesmaids the other night, all of us, the boys included. Trying to find something everyone would like these days is difficult. Number Two loves anything that he thinks we would deem inappropriate, Number One won't watch anything even remotely scary and Number Three doesn't really know what he wants to watch but he knows it can't be for little kids. As for me, I hate blow 'em up, car chase movies. I don't mind a clever thriller a la The Italian Job and my Other Half, let's just say he sat through Something Borrowed for me without complaining.

So we ended up watching Bridesmaids which I thought they'd sit through if only to see the bridal salon/food poisoning scene and I was right. They loved it, Melissa McCarthy in particular. I am hoping most of the innuendo went over their heads and we did have to fast forward through the sex scenes but the thing that really hit home for me wasn't the whole over-the-top wedding, it was the friend who was the mother of three boys who needed a real Bachelorette Party to get away from the animals in her house. That, I could identify with. My house is all male, as I might have mentioned a few times. Even the dog, while neutered, is still a boy and, like most boys, he pees everywhere. My life consists of shopping for, cooking of and cleaning up massive quantitities of food (and only one of the three is officially a teenager) I do laundry every other day and it consists mostly of dingy, mismatched gym socks because they are always left on the floor where the dog finds and enjoys his most favourite snack (don't even ask what they look like when they come out the other end)

But the worst part in the movie is when the MOB talks about how everything in her house is "sticky" I don't even want to contemplate this stage. I remember reading a blog post a while ago (back when my boys were still cute and smelled like bubble bath) about giving teenage boys an endless supply of tube socks. At first I thought, I guess that makes sense, although for some bizarre reason my boys and all their friends only wear tiny little ankle socks, the kind I used to play tennis in, even in the dead of winter when they refuse to wear boots they have a half an inch of bare skin showing between their shoes and pants (they also grow at an alarming rate and I can't keep up with it so half the time their pants are floods) But I digress. Back to the tube socks. Apparently they are great containment vessels.

It took me a while to get it so I'll give you a moment.

Get it? I know. Gross. Really? That's what those long, stretchy socks that come in 12 packs are for? I don't even want to think about it. So while most women enjoyed the story of two best friends learning to appreciate one another, all I could think about was the fact that up until now the worst mess I have had to contend with is the one on the walls and around the base of the toilet. I am so not ready for Stage Two of Teenage Boys.

How can you promise something you can't promise?

During the last week of the summer we stayed up at the cottage and experienced for the first time in my 45 years of cottaging the most terrifying thing - a cottage down the lake caught fire. Friends of ours who had just left our place to go home called to say there was a fire at the cabin across from theirs. We all jumped in the boat after calling the Park rangers (calling 911 is useless as there are no municipal emergency numbers for water access cottages on our lake and which are under provincial jurisdiction)

As soon as we were out of our little bay we could see the black smoke billowing around the point.

And then we saw the actual fire. In 15 minutes it had gone from the size of a campfire to this.

Boats from all over the lake were gathering in front of the site and within a half an hour the first plane arrived which was able to fill its pontoons with water and drop it on the fire.

We all had to admit it was pretty cool to watch the precision with which the pilots dumped the water on what was a very small area.

Fifteen or so minutes after the first plane arrived the second one flew in and it was a real water bomber that can fill its belly with thousands of gallons of water.

It scooped up belly after belly full of water and made at least 20 passes over the fire.

It looked huge to us sitting on the lake in our little boats. Fortunately the wind was off shore so the fire did not spread to the woods. If it had been blowing back into the trees it could have spread rapidly as the summer had been so dry. Our cottage is on the same side of the lake so conceivably it could have been in danger if it had turned into a real forest fire.

Although we stayed and watched the planes until the fire was completely out and we went back the next morning to see the damage - one cabin was completely destroyed but luckily the main one was untouched - our youngest was very shaken by the whole incident.

Over a month later he still asks me every night before bed, "Is everything is going to be okay?"

Then, after I reassure him everything is going to be fine he asks, "No fires, right Mum?"

And I respond, "No fires," but he then says, "You promise?"

I am not sure what to say to that one. I promise that we have smoke detectors (with working batteries) on each floor and they are hooked up to the alarm company and if they go off the fire department responds immediately (I know this because they did when cookies were burned) and we check to see that the oven and coffee maker are off before we go to bed every night but I can't promise him that there will never be a fire either at home or at the cottage and I hate that I can't promise him that. I can't imagine what it is like for a family who has lived through a house fire. How do they ever sleep again? How do they reassure their children that they are safe when they weren't? I guess it's something you can't think about too much like so many of the other dangers that surround us everyday. In the meantime we will continue to go through our bedtime ritual together as long as he needs to.

Betwixt and Between

That's where I am these days. I have three increasingly independent boys who come and go from my house but it seems that at least half of the time they still desperately need me. The first week back to school my Other Half was away and I worked until 6 o'clock two days so the boys were on their own after school and they did just fine. I asked Number One to make sure that Number Three either came home or checked in with him if he was going to a friend's house. It's hard for the youngest, most of his friends are the eldest and so their parents still pick them up at school and aren't comfortable with a nine year old making his own plans. I have no problem with him checking in with his older brother before he goes off to play and they all seem to be able to make it home before I do. Luckily we don't have any evening sports at the moment to rush through dinner to get to so if I get home at six I can still make dinner (but I do have to get better at planning meals ahead) and it is almost civilized eating at around seven. In fact, this routine seems to be working. Okay, it worked one week and this week we will try it again as the builder is off flogging boats in Northern Michigan.

It's trying to find a balance between being there for them and not being there too much. I know they fight more when I am around, vying for attention - good or bad. It is hard especially with the youngest because I feel like I am pushing him too early. The others certainly weren't making their lunches in grade 4 but then he also gets the perks of doing other things way before his brothers ever did. Number One will be travelling with his ski team in November to Colorado and after the fiasco that was the trip to the Provincials last March with tearful phone calls every night I will not be getting him a North American cell plan while he is gone. He will have to manage sharing a room with others, eat whatever is put in front of him and get over the fear that every other guy on the team is shaving while he still searches in vain for any sign of peach fuzz.

Number Two has gotten off to a better start this year, he likes his teacher and came home yesterday very happy that he had finished a math test second to the smartest kid in the class and thought he had done well on it. It was so nice to see him being positive about school after last year and although he doesn't have very many of his close friends in his class he seems to be okay with that. He knows he has to have a good report card at Christmas if he is going to be allowed to miss school for skiing and that coupled with a wish for a phone I think we have a great incentive plan in place.

Balance - parenting, work, socializing, health. We all want to do it all and we want to do it well. I am never going to be a Type A person despite the fact that I am the eldest in my family and an Aries to boot. I don't want to run a marathon or bike 100 miles. I am never going to start my own business and I probably won't ever write a novel (a memoir perhaps). I want to raise my boys to be young men who value school as much as sports and who appreciate one other. I want to be healthy and live long enough to know my grandchildren and be the mother-in-law I constantly make notes to myself about. I want to be able to spend time with my Other Half and see him achieve a balance in life and success in business. I want to be able to enjoy this beautiful place we live in and to travel again to the places I didn't get to BC (Before Children) I want to ski in New Zealand and sail in the South Pacific. All these things seem so unattainable right now but if the speed at which the last ten years flew by is any indication I know that the boys will be off living their own lives in the blink of an eye and my Other Half and I will have time for ourselves again. I often say that I couldn't have had children in my twenties like so many people did, I had too many things to do and and I wasn't ready for that resposibility. My thirties were hard with four pregnancies and three young children. My Other Half was seldom home and I ate, slept and breathed children.

Now I feel ready to begin to branch out again, test myself beyond familial waters, set some goals and dream a little of life BC (Beyond Children - I know there's no AC since they will always be my boys). And I know we have a ways to go, Number Three won't be launched for another nine years and we have the dreaded Teenage Years to survive first but in nine years I will be 54 and that doesn't seem nearly as old as it did even just a few years ago and from the looks and lives of the women I know who are in already their fifties - I can't wait.

Does anyone know how to be in three places at once?

Here are a few of the reasons that I will neither be blogging or reading for the next few days. These aren't excuses, just a snapshot of my life right now which I know so many of you will understand and raise your glass of wine in solidarity with me as mothers of far too active, but not over-programmed boys. There is no such thing as over programming of boys since if you dare to let them sit around too long, much like over-ripe fruit, they start to stink and attract flies.

Friday - boys have already left for the ski hill with my Other Half. Numbers Two and Three are training and Number One has a race. Then we get home in time to tune skis for tomorrow's races while Number One is at the arena for hockey practice.

Saturday - Number Two and I go to one hill for a race while Numbers One & Three go to our club for training. All reconvene at the end of the day to tune skis (again), take Number One skating with his ski team, Number Three has a party and then we dump them all with my sister so my Other Half & I can enjoy a rare kid-free party at friends!

Sunday - Number Three goes to another club for a race, then all are back to our club for the afternoon and all race, on three different courses on three different hills which requires the two of us to be in three places at once. The upside of this is that the dog finally gets a decent walk from one hill to another. Then Number Three has another party and Number One has hockey practice and a relief map of Alberta showing the mountains and plains made out of dough to finish.

Love winter but can't wait to be able to sleep in past 7am sometime in April.

Have a great weekend everyone.

This is the hard part

My father called this morning to tell me about a conversation he had had with Number Two Son yesterday. My Dad and Number Two have a very special bond and therefore he has been privy to many secrets but this was one he felt he had to share and break the grandparent/grandson confidence. Of course, it was something I already knew about all too well. Number Two has been bullied by the same child since we moved here four years ago. It seems to ebb and flow but we have already had one conversation this year with the teacher which resulted in all the Grade Five boys having a meeting with the teacher to talk about the situation. The school has a very strict anti-bullying policy and they spend alot of time discussing the issue. But there is a real herd mentality amongst these Millennium babies, one that we have not experienced with our older son's group. Number Two and his friends are very aware of what and who is cool, they worry about clothes and hair and what they are doing and how they look doing it. They are all on facebook and because I monitor our son's friends closely I have already had to intervene in one on-line relationship with a girl who he sees only on weekends at the ski hill but who had invented an entire relationship with him including multiple break-ups and reconciliations, all posted on her Wall.

The bullying at school takes the form of teasing and put downs said to other kids about my son. But it has escalated to spitting on clothes such as his sweatshirt and laughing at him when he unknowingly puts it on. Number Two cares deeply about what other people think (don't we all?) and although I have tried to tell tell him that he is smart, cute and good at so many things, only what his peers say really matters at age 10. The herd mentality rears its ugly head and everyone in the class would rather go along with the bullying than risk being singled out themselves, my son included.

We are having another meeting with his teacher who unfortunately Number Two does not seem to like very much and I have talked to one of the Behavioural Specialists at the school who is a close friend who I thought he might be willing to talk to. Now I wonder whether I should call the parent of the bully whom I know (it is a very small town, of course) and ask her if she has heard anything about what's going on from her son? Will that backfire in my face? It might. Would I want to know if one of my sons was a bully? Yes, but having tried this route with another parent about an issue with another child, I know how different one's perspective can be regarding their own child. No one wants to think that their son or daughter is anything other than a kind and caring person. I don't believe that these kids are bad, they are just behaving in a very Lord of the Flies way. A leader emerges from the group and whether he or she guides the group in a positive or negative way determines what happens to characters like "Piggy."

I want my son to know we are doing something to help him but I also know know he is super sensitive and I want him to be able to stand up for himself and not care quite so much about what other people say and do. I have never been an over-protective mother, I like my kids to figure stuff out for themselves and learn the skills they will need to survive in life. But I hate seeing any one of them being hurt.

We're Off - from Snow to Sand

It feels very strange that a week before Christmas I do not have stashes of presents hidden throughout the house. I have resisted the temptation to put stocking stuffers in the grocery cart and I have wrapped a grand total of five presents, three for teachers and two for my mother. One more sleep and we are off to the sunny and hopefully warmer south, although with the weather very, very "White Christmas" here, anything will be an improvement. I can't say how secretly happy I am that our snowblower wouldn't start when we got it out of the garage for it's first blow of the year and there has been no time to get it fixed. Luckily our neighbour has a son in the business and I am able to get in and out of our drive with ease. My pioneer woman spirit only extends so far and digging the wood pile out to keep the fire going on the fifth Snow Day so far as well as packing down a path with my snow shoes for the dog to be able to get out and do his thing is about it right now.

We did put the tree up two weeks ago and I have enjoyed it. On Monday Number Two and Three Sons and I sat in front of it most of the day watching movies and making crafts. We baked, well actually we made Candy Cane Bark which is technically not baking but is the most delicious thing ever. And when the power went out at 8 o'clock we lit candles and put another log on and read Christmas stories from Laura Ingalls Wilder. That was a Christmas miracle in our house and as the wind howled outside the boys and I felt like we were living in the Little House in the Big Woods, cosy and warm by the fire. Of course at midnight when the lights all came blazing back on I was more than happy to move the two perpetual motion machines out of my bed and back into theirs.

Number One Son and my Other Half have been away for the week at Mont Tremblant, Quebec for some father/son time and it has given our eldest a chance to be a little more independent away from his brothers. Something I hope will help him as I encourage him to do a French Exchange programme next year for two months. He would go to France or Switzerland in the spring of 2012 and we would have a student here next September/October. At first I thought Grade 8 was a little young but the reasoning is that the students won't miss as much academically as they would in high school and also they won't be as inclined to go over and party at age 13 and 14 (I hope). It would be a fantastic opportunity for him and something that is very near and dear to my heart. Language is my thing and most days I feel like I have very little influence over my sports-loving, brother-bashing, video-gaming sons. Number One is the reader in the family like me and he is already quite good in French after spending the first four years of school in French immersion. I would love for him to really solidify that skill and quiet frankly, we would all love to be able to go over and visit him, hopefully in the Alps, for Spring Break 2012.

But for now off we go to a place where instead of snow there will be sand and the palm trees are covered in millions of white lights. They say nobody does Christmas quite like Naples, Florida so I promise to take lots of pictures. Have a wonderful holiday everyone.

I am torn

I am not sure what to do about Christmas this year. Number One Son and his father will be leaving to go to Mont Tremblant, Quebec to ski with his team on December 12th and then they join Numbers Two, Three and I in Naples, FL on December 19th. We will be leaving on the 17th to spend our first Christmas down south with my Dad, my brother and sister and their families. We will be home on Boxing Day, the 26th in time for the boys to begin their season of ski racing but the question is, do we put up the tree?

We will have so little time before we leave and then, of course, we will come home to a half dead tree with needles every where and I will be the one who has to put everything away and clean it all up. For what? My Other Half was at a trade show this weekend and so we could put it up this week but then the weekend after we are staying at my Mum's to celebrate Christmas with her, four days later we head south. Am I a Grinch for not wanting to go through the hassle?

Number Two with Santa's Marching Band - Christmas 2000

Yesterday Number Two Son found his Santa hat to wear to school and started to rip through all the boxes to find his favourite Playmobile Santa sleigh and reindeer. I lost it when I saw the mess but I know how much he has always loved playing with the decorations. And on Saturday night I went to a party at a home that was decked to the halls and that coupled with some snow on the ground I know I can't not get out the Santas and the wreaths. And even though there might be a few needles to sweep up when we get home I think we will all appreciate coming home to enjoy Christmas for another week or so, at least until after New Years.

“To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false 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 or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived - that is to have succeeded.”

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Life seems to be a challenge lately and continuing to believe that what I do everyday is important is harder and harder. Boys constantly bickering and fighting, my continual nagging to make the bed, set the table, do homework, feed the dog ... it goes on and on and there never seems to be anything positive in return. In the end I want them to grow up to be three good men like their father, but not necessarily great. The world is full of too many men whom society judges great but who cheat on their wives, abandon their children and leave a trail of friends behind all for power, money or fame.

So I will continue to lie with my children before they go to sleep, listen to their fears and dreams and put up with their noise and fights, tend my family and my friends and hope that I will in some way have succeeded - at least by Emerson's very fine definition.

Muse Still Missing

So please enjoy these photos which are completely out of order. Why is it so hard to move them around?

The Regional Cross Country Race

Number One Son came in 18th out of all the 12 & 13 year olds, all 145 of them!

Number Three Son came in 22nd out of 240 8 and 9 year olds!!

The oldest group is off

Number Three waiting for the gun in the Reebok Hockey cap that never leaves his head

Of course, I had to get some shots of the spectators while the runners were out of sight in the woods.

One in particular

A great day was had by all

Still at their beck and call

When the boys were little I was literally at their beck and call. For years I never seemed to be able to enter REM sleep because their was always a diaper to change or worse, an entire sleeper to be peeled off a cranky baby or a bucket needed beside a nauseous toddler or wet sheets to be changed. During the day it was constant diaper changes, non stop nursing, meal prep and clean up. One day morphed into the next until slowly we came out the other end of babydom and entered preschool world. Now I had a few hours with everyone off at school, time flew by in a haze of errands run without a stroller and quick uninterrupted conversations with friends. The nights were less hectic, I found myself waking up in the morning thinking that something must be wrong, no one had called out for me.

And so now we have moved all too quickly out of those early school years into the era of pre-teen angst and a whole new round of becking and calling. I have more time without them but now it's not as easy to make plans with friends because inevitably someone will need to be taken to the arena or picked up from dry land training or so-and-so wants to sleep over and can we go rent a movie or go to the theatre to meet the gang? It is never ending. I used to call the lists and schedules I left for whichever set of grandparent was babysitting for a few days "The Care & Feeding of the Brothers Grimm" but now it's less care and feeding and more "Chauffeuring and Digital Monitoring"

There's homework and the dreaded school projects. There's hockey practise and football tryouts. And now there's facebook and MSN monitoring. Our eldest doesn't have a cell phone yet and isn't really lobbying for one (although Number Two Son is) but I am starting to think it might not be a bad idea so I don't have to turn up at the arena only to be told he's going home with so-and-so or arriving at school to find no one there because they have all made plans and I'm not in them.

I'm not complaining, I just don't do change very well. Every transition I find myself clinging to the old days of making meals with one in the high chair, one on the floor with all the tupperware out of the cupboard and one playing with Play Doh on the counter. Now it's rushing to get a meal on the table before practise, watching which website they are surfing out of the corner of one eye while I squint with the other to read another permission form for yet another sporting activity. Change is good, change is inevitable but I still don't have to like it.

A Long Walk Off a Short Pier

Yesterday my Number One Son, the 12 year old, headed off with a bunch of friends after school. I didn't actually see him but my neighbour knew where they we going, or so she thought. Turns out after they went downtown to the convenience store, meaning they walked down the hill to the block of shops that constitute the main drag in our little town, they then headed to the pier. (There's a picture of it in the previous post) That's okay, I just would have liked to have known where to look for their bodies when they washed up on shore.

You know the old parental saying, "If Johnny jumped off the bridge, would you?" Well, this bunch of pre-teen boys who all are beginning to suffer from S.T.B.S (Stupid Teenage Boy Syndrome, my diagnosis) all decided to to take a long walk off a short pier. They went swimming with no adults to supervise. Now they will tell you that of the five of them, three almost have their Bronze Medallion and they do but the key word is almost and I don't think for a minute anyone of them could have rescued their buddy if he got in trouble. The pier is about 10 feet off the water and it is great fun to jump off of, it is one of the things I love about living here but I am not ready for my boys to go swimming there on their own yet. But S.T.B.S. kicked in and off they went like a herd of lemmings.

But wait, it gets better. I didn't actually hear about the swimming until this morning. What I did hear about last night was the photographer who took their pictures and asked for their names. Number One Son told me that they were going to be in the paper and I asked, "Why?" "Some guy took our picture and asked for our names." But not our local reporter who comes to every little event around town, no some guy from somewhere else. Great. Okay, I thought, time for a little reality check. I asked him if he thought that was a smart thing to do, give his name to a stranger? "Noooo," he replied. "I guess not. But he only took one of the back of our heads." Well, it turns out that he didn't just get the back of their heads, he also got pictures of them all jumping into the water. Three times so he could get the shot. Apparently one of the boys has his card which I will be tracking down to call and ask him if its his paper's policy to take photos and the names of kids without parental permission.

I am not one of those over-protective parents, I have no trouble signing the release form at school allowing their photo to be taken and even put on the school website. Hell, I have this blog and I put their pictures up all the time. It wouldn't take much for someone to figure out where we live but I choose to believe that most people, whether on-line or in RL, are not pedophiles or stalkers. But still, I want my children to stop and think before they do stuff. Any stuff, from something big like getting into a car with someone who has been drinking to something little like swimming without adult supervision (I now that's not little but, it's all relative) We are entering a whole new universe here at the house of Cid and I have to start thinking one step ahead of my boys. It's not just riding bikes to the store to buy candy, they are stepping further and further out of my control (I choose to believe that at sometime I had control) and I want them to have that independence which is why we live where we do and not in the big city where they wouldn't have been able to do anything on their own until well into their 20's. But there are limits and boundaries and I guess we really have to start talking about them. Number One Son is smart and a little cautious which is a trait I intend to foster but the herd mentality is powerful. This is only the beginning of trying to teach them to think for themselves or at least to think, "What would my mother say about me doing this?" I may not be Catholic or Jewish but I'm banking on a big dose of maternal guilt to keep my children safe for the next ten years or so.

The Grandparents Tea

Number Two Son has had the most wonderful teacher this year, one who really "gets" him. She has been so patient and encouraging and he has, as a direct result, had a fantastic year academically and socially. He is more confident and has tried so many new things and to top it all off she organized this unbelievable "Grandparents Tea" last week. The kids made the invitations for each set of grandparents. My boys are lucky enough to have all their grandparents still living and fairly close by so NTS made three of everything. They decorated picture frames, made murals, the mothers cooked up a storm and we all got to see the Grade 4 Talent show which was hysterical.

The class has talked a lot about the stereotypes we have of old people and so their skits and songs poked fun at playing Bingo, using cell phones and dancing. The afternoon ended with a slideshow of photos of all their grandparents and my son and another boy sang "Photograph" by Nickelback. Everyone had tears in their eyes. The kids who had grandparents who were no longer living made gorgeous collages of photos and messages in their honour. My parents and my mother-in-law were overwhelmed by the time and effort put into the entire afternoon. I am quite sure that someday in the future when my son is asked if he had a teacher who had a real impact on him he will remember Ms. Comrie.

Number Two Son and "Geeya"

NTS and "Dippy"

NTS and Grandma

Thanking Ms. Comrie

Number Two Son - one of the MC's

It was much more than just a "tea"

A Loverly Long Weekend

Wow, someone up there must really like us. We had the most gorgeous four day long weekend in forever. Friday the temperatures soared into the high 20's, Celsius, of course (that's in the 80's for you guys on the other side of the thermometer) and we went skiing for the last time. It was perfect, the snow held until lunch when we were all ready to quit for a beer on the beach, I mean deck. We didn't play golf but the boys did swim in our neighbours unheated pool.

Friday night our friends from the city came up and we ate fresh trout from a local hatchery with roasted vegetables, lentil salad and warm potato salad. I love having this family up because Jamie is a trained chef and every time he is in my kitchen I learn something new. We barbecued the fish with fennel and lemons, tossed the lentils with golden beets and added the roasted potatoes to arugula. Sorry I didn't get any pictures of the food because he plated it beautifully as well.

Saturday morning we got up to another glorious day, the kids were outside in their pj's and we ate the left over trout in a fish hash with poached eggs on the deck in the sun. Number One Son played his last game of hockey for the season in the All Star Game, he was one of the top six goalies in his division and then we packed up to head down to my Mum's for an Easter sleepover. Unfortunately the Easter Bunny did not take in to account the heat in the car as it sat in the arena parking lot and the chocolate hockey puck, soccer and footballs looked more like bunny droppings when she put them in the boys baskets that night. But they didn't seem to mind. And even my mother who has opted out of most holidays since her children grew up got into the spirit, buying goodies for everyone. She thoughtfully checked the label on each package for "May contain nuts" so that my Other Half would be safe. But she neglected to read the actual ingredients, missing "peanut butter" as a major one. Luckily my oh-so-cautious Other Half re-reads everything that anyone (including myself) buys. Mum was a little embarassed and her grandsons will never let her forget it.

Easter morning the boys stayed in their beds eating their melted sporting equipment until 7am and then the hunt began. The Easter Bunny hides jelly beans and chocolate eggs all over the house and my mother's house is perfect with lots of nooks and crannies. It took them almost 20 minutes to hunt and that must be a record. Ususally it's over in 5 minutes. After another delicious meal of Eggs Benedict we headed outside for the hunt all over the property. My sister has hidden plastic eggs with more candies in them everywhere on Mum's 25 acres. That one took a little longer. Then we flew kites, blew bubbles and enjoyed the warm sun.

The last leg of our Easter tour took us to my in-laws where despite not having any counters in her recently remodelled kitchen my MIL put on a wonderful turkey dinner and the boys had a great time with their teenaged cousins, playing in the stream, skateboarding and playing rugby.

Not being a terribly religious family we didn't go to church so no thoughtful sermon to report on but I did hear a funny joke which if you are a hockey parent you will appreciate.

Three blondes found themselves at the Pearly Gates where St Peter greeted them and said, "I will let you in if you can tell me the meaning of Easter."

The first blonde, an American said, "Sure, Easter is a big feast when we give thanks, eat turkey and watch football."

"Nooooo," St Peter said and sent her elsewhere.

The second, a Brit said, "Easter is when we celebrate Christ's birth and exchange gifts."

"Nooooo," St Peter said and sent her away.

The third blonde, a Canadian said, "Easter is when we remember that Jesus was crucified on the cross and died for our sins and was buried in a tomb."

"Very good" said St. Peter. And the blonde continued. "Now every year they roll away the boulder and if Jesus comes out and sees his shadow we have six more weeks of hockey."

P.S. Question? I just had to re-type that entire joke. How can I just copy and past into a post?

Big Win and First Kiss

The winning run

On the podium

I really don't remember my first kiss specifically. Does that make me a bad person or am I just going senile? But Number Two Son, age 9, has had his. Yesterday, on the chairlift with a girl who he has been "dating" on and off since last ski season. Apparently our little Romeo is quite the catch among his ski team where desirability is in direct proportion to how fast you can ski and what you look like in a downhill suit (something I never have and never will squeeze myself into) the girl/boy thing has reached a crescendo this past week while the kids were off school for March Break. Nine days straight of skiing, sun and sleepovers has resulted in a major outbreak of spring fever.

Up until now I had thought that the boys were quite oblivious to all the attentions of the girls. That my son was dating seemed more an orchestration by the girls of who rode the chairlift with whom but now I'm not so sure.

A kiss, even with goggles and a helmet on is serious stuff. I don't know if I am ready for this next stage. Even with a 12 year old I thought we had more time to prepare for the world of girls calling at all hours, let alone all the online stuff I don't pretend to understand. As a mother of three boys I know there will be many girlfriends passing through our house and, as a friend whose boys are now adults warned me, "Don't get too attached to them. Either they will break your son's heart or he will break theirs. Until you are officially a mother-in-law, don't get too emotionally involved."


Good advice, although I can't help thinking that maybe this girl might be a potential pedicure partner for me in my testosterone filled household.

My Son - the Love Child of Justin Bieber and Hayley Wickenheiser?