M. and I got to be single again for a few days. We went away for three nights without the kids, woohoo! We don't do this very often, actually we usually only go away for one or two nights for our anniversary once a year. But this year, for my birthday, since it's a big one (shh...I'm 40 now) we wanted to do something special. So we went up north and used my parent's timeshare credits and went to a resort. It was heaven! No little voices calling, no whining, teasing, arguments to break up. I could actually sit and read without being interrupted, it was glorious! And I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Sleep in until noon, sure, no problem! Stay up late watching movies, bring them on! Yes, we were wild and crazy, I actually drank more than one Cosmo in one sitting.
The best part of course, was being able to actually hold a conversation with my husband without being constantly interrupted. We could actually eat dinner with each other and not have to beg someone to just "have one more bite". Now that the kids are older, we can leave them for longer periods of time with their grandparents and the kids love spending time with M.'s parents.
On Saturday we picked the kids up and brought them up to the resort and had a great day playing in the snow and swimming. We stayed the night and on Sunday, we all went skiing and it was perfect. The kids had surprised me by baking a birthday cake with their grandmother and it was delicious. So, if this is 40, I say it's pretty amazing. I had the best of both worlds, time alone with my husband and time with my kids, who could ask for anything more?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Hugs and kisses
A post over at Kimchi Mamas, by Mama Nabi, got me thinking about my childhood and my parenting skills. I left a comment about my childhood memories and experiences and what I will do differently as a parent. I wrote that I will give my children and my husband lots of hugs and kisses. It's not that my parents never kissed us, but it was not usually very spontaneous or very frequent. We were expected to come and say a formal "good night" to my parents and give them a kiss, it was "yeh" which I think means respect and duty. I really don't remember my parents tucking us in bed. Sometimes we would get bedtime stories or songs, if we asked. I know that with my parents they never received open affection from their parents, it's just not the Korean way so the fact that they gave the occasional hug and kiss was a big deal for them and I am grateful for that.
I think of how differently my children are being raised. When they are around me, I cannot help but give them hugs, kisses, tickles or stroke their hair when they walk by. When they were first born, I would cover them in kisses and hugs and I loved our cuddles. They sometimes complain(not very convincingly) that they don't want my hugs and kisses, these complaints usually just mean I kiss and hug them harder, which always make them giggle, I don't think you can give "too many" hugs and kisses to a child.
The lack of open affection from my parents made me rather hesitant to be openly affectionate with my husband, when I first met him. I think I may have seen my parents kiss maybe 2 or 3 times, that's it. You would think after 14 years of marriage and after knowing him 16 years, I would be less inhibited, but I'm not. Why is it so easy for me to give my kids hugs and kisses all day long, but with M. I will kiss him when I leave in the morning and when he comes home from work but the hugs and kisses aren't as frequent as with the kids.
I want my kids to know that their parents are in love and we can be openly affectionate with each other and that it is natural. I am still trying, I guess that's all anyone can do.
How about you guys, do you show your affection openly in front of your kids?
I think of how differently my children are being raised. When they are around me, I cannot help but give them hugs, kisses, tickles or stroke their hair when they walk by. When they were first born, I would cover them in kisses and hugs and I loved our cuddles. They sometimes complain(not very convincingly) that they don't want my hugs and kisses, these complaints usually just mean I kiss and hug them harder, which always make them giggle, I don't think you can give "too many" hugs and kisses to a child.
The lack of open affection from my parents made me rather hesitant to be openly affectionate with my husband, when I first met him. I think I may have seen my parents kiss maybe 2 or 3 times, that's it. You would think after 14 years of marriage and after knowing him 16 years, I would be less inhibited, but I'm not. Why is it so easy for me to give my kids hugs and kisses all day long, but with M. I will kiss him when I leave in the morning and when he comes home from work but the hugs and kisses aren't as frequent as with the kids.
I want my kids to know that their parents are in love and we can be openly affectionate with each other and that it is natural. I am still trying, I guess that's all anyone can do.
How about you guys, do you show your affection openly in front of your kids?
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Movies
M. and I went to see Pan's Labyrinth last night. Wow. Brilliant, disturbing, suspenseful, imaginative, mystical, horrifying and hopeful.
It is definitely not a movie for the faint hearted, there were some scenes where I had to shut my eyes and cover my ears-I honestly cannot remember the last movie that horrified me and kept me spell bound at the same time. Don't get me wrong, it is not a horror movie in the campy Hollywood/slasher movie genre. The horror is in the evil that is in man's soul, the evil where torture and sadism are given free reign in times of war and conflict. However, the movie is not all full of doom and gloom, the true story is the world seen through the eyes of a little girl who escapes to a world of fantasy and magic. It is a brilliant movie and it made me weep with its message of hope, love and courage, I strongly urge you to go and see it.
M. and I have a regular babysitter, however, her services are in high demand so whenever she is free we try and catch a movie, so a lot of times it is hit and miss, depending on what movies are out and the showtimes. So a lot of times in the past year we have seen a lot of duds, but the ones that were great, were definitely worth the price of admission.
Little Miss Sunshine-it made me laugh so hard that tears were streaming down my face. It is definitely in my top 10 list. The whole cast was brilliant and they all deserve an Oscar, when oh when will they start giving out an Oscar for "Best Ensemble Cast" they do it for the Emmy's. The only other Oscar nominated best film I have seen is The Departed, it is brilliant, but it didn't make it into my top 10 list.
I remember before we had kids my husband and I would make it a point to see all the Best Film contenders so we could be smug in our opinions of which was the most deserving. Recently, if we make it to 2 or 3 movies, we're doing good.
Casino Royale-I have to admit I was not a happy camper when Daniel Craig was chosen as the new Bond. I had my heart set on seeing Clive Owens in the role. Ever since I watched Gosford Park, I was smitten. Those dark, smouldering eyes, the devilish smile, the amazing body...sorry, I just had to wipe the drool off the keyboard. However, I was very pleasantly surprised at the excellent writing and the great acting. Craig is not the typical pretty-boy Bond, his hair gets messed up during fight scenes and he actually bruises and bleeds. He also showed steely cruelty as well as touching vulnerability. Bravo!
Another movie I really enjoyed was The Matador, with Greg Kinnear and Pierce Brosnan. I believe it came out in 2005, but we missed it in the theatres and watched it a little while ago on DVD. This was a movie that appealed to my twisted sense of humour, it was wonderful to see Pierce Brosnan in a role where he is not seen in a flattering light, either physically, emotionally or morally. His character is rather despicable, cold hearted with no soul and his performance is amazing, he was definitely overlooked by the Oscar voters.
I love watching movies, the sheer fantasy aspect, the ability to lose oneself when the lights go dim and the willingness to suspend belief and to be entertained for 2 hours. The movies that make me cry, make me look at my life critically, the ones that pose tough questions and moral dilemmas, the ones that make me think, that's what keeps me going to the movies. As much as I love the comfort and ease of watching DVD's at home, watching those big action movies or thrillers on the big screen, makes me feel like a little kid again And, oh yeah, the treats are always yummy too.
It is definitely not a movie for the faint hearted, there were some scenes where I had to shut my eyes and cover my ears-I honestly cannot remember the last movie that horrified me and kept me spell bound at the same time. Don't get me wrong, it is not a horror movie in the campy Hollywood/slasher movie genre. The horror is in the evil that is in man's soul, the evil where torture and sadism are given free reign in times of war and conflict. However, the movie is not all full of doom and gloom, the true story is the world seen through the eyes of a little girl who escapes to a world of fantasy and magic. It is a brilliant movie and it made me weep with its message of hope, love and courage, I strongly urge you to go and see it.
M. and I have a regular babysitter, however, her services are in high demand so whenever she is free we try and catch a movie, so a lot of times it is hit and miss, depending on what movies are out and the showtimes. So a lot of times in the past year we have seen a lot of duds, but the ones that were great, were definitely worth the price of admission.
Little Miss Sunshine-it made me laugh so hard that tears were streaming down my face. It is definitely in my top 10 list. The whole cast was brilliant and they all deserve an Oscar, when oh when will they start giving out an Oscar for "Best Ensemble Cast" they do it for the Emmy's. The only other Oscar nominated best film I have seen is The Departed, it is brilliant, but it didn't make it into my top 10 list.
I remember before we had kids my husband and I would make it a point to see all the Best Film contenders so we could be smug in our opinions of which was the most deserving. Recently, if we make it to 2 or 3 movies, we're doing good.
Casino Royale-I have to admit I was not a happy camper when Daniel Craig was chosen as the new Bond. I had my heart set on seeing Clive Owens in the role. Ever since I watched Gosford Park, I was smitten. Those dark, smouldering eyes, the devilish smile, the amazing body...sorry, I just had to wipe the drool off the keyboard. However, I was very pleasantly surprised at the excellent writing and the great acting. Craig is not the typical pretty-boy Bond, his hair gets messed up during fight scenes and he actually bruises and bleeds. He also showed steely cruelty as well as touching vulnerability. Bravo!
Another movie I really enjoyed was The Matador, with Greg Kinnear and Pierce Brosnan. I believe it came out in 2005, but we missed it in the theatres and watched it a little while ago on DVD. This was a movie that appealed to my twisted sense of humour, it was wonderful to see Pierce Brosnan in a role where he is not seen in a flattering light, either physically, emotionally or morally. His character is rather despicable, cold hearted with no soul and his performance is amazing, he was definitely overlooked by the Oscar voters.
I love watching movies, the sheer fantasy aspect, the ability to lose oneself when the lights go dim and the willingness to suspend belief and to be entertained for 2 hours. The movies that make me cry, make me look at my life critically, the ones that pose tough questions and moral dilemmas, the ones that make me think, that's what keeps me going to the movies. As much as I love the comfort and ease of watching DVD's at home, watching those big action movies or thrillers on the big screen, makes me feel like a little kid again And, oh yeah, the treats are always yummy too.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Mean parents
I wish I had been blogging when it became official and one of my children first told me that I was the meanest parent ever. Ahh, one of the joys of parenthood that they don't write about in the new parents' books and other parents usually don't discuss with you when you are a first time parent. Though, I guess we all know deep down that this day will come as inevitably as the sun rises and sets.
My children like to remind us on a fairly regular basis that we are the meanest parents in the world. It usually happens on Sundays. Today we skipped Mass (shhh...please don't tell my mother) but if we had attended Mass as we usually do, the whining, complaining and generally miserable behaviour would have begun at around 11 a.m. but since we didn't attend, it began around 2 p.m. , just before skating lessons. Yes, we are those mean and awful parents who have enrolled them in the torture that is skating lessons. You would think we were forcing them to pluck the eyes out of fluffy bunnies, if you heard the crying and hysterics that usually precedes leaving for the rink. Some Sundays are better than others, today actually was a fairly good day. Both children whined and complained but there were no tears today... you have to be grateful for the crumbs your children toss to you.
When I hear these words coming out of my mouth, I still can't believe how much I sound like my parents. "You will thank me for making you take lessons when you are older" GirlChild usually replies, "well when I'm older I will never, ever skate again in my life", to which I usually reply, "yes, but at least when you don't skate, it will be because you don't want to, not because you don't know how". Flawed logic perhaps, but it usually ends the argument.
M. and I know that learning to skate is tough and not a lot of fun in the beginning when most of the time is spent flat on your back rather than standing or actually skating, but we also know that it can be a lot of fun and as we tell them, they live in Canada and they have to know how to skate. We tried to take them on our own, but M.'s back couldn't take it anymore, his back would be in spasms after a session of being bent over trying to hold up BoyChild whose legs were like jelly and his feet were all over the place on the ice. So we signed the kids up for lessons and I am amazed at how much they have learned. BoyChild is the fastest in his little group and GirlChild keeps getting badges and is learning the finer techniques of skating backwards and jumping and spinning. I know they will thank us in the future, but sometimes it would be nice to get the recognition now, rather than the whining.
All right, I have to admit my parents were right, the 6 long years of piano lessons were worth it, I can now play Heart and Soul on the piano...that is the extent of my musical ability. What is it with Korean parents and taking piano lessons, my theory is that all those missionaries that came to Korea must have had their backing from some secret piano teachers Mafia/Triad/Hell's Angels gangs and through some sort of subliminal brainwashing convinced Koreans of the merits of piano lessons. How else do you explain the near hysteria and cult like following that Korean parents had and continue to have with piano lessons. All my parents' friends had their children enrolled in lessons. My parents were immigrants and money was very tight, yet they still found the extra money for lessons for my sister and I. The money for my lessons was not well spent, I am not musically gifted, actually I think I am tone deaf and I cannot carry a tune to save my life and I absolutely detested practicing.
But, guess what, yes, it's true. GirlChild is taking piano lessons. You are probably thinking, that woman is the meanest parent in the world, but I'm telling you, really, really I'm not. Seriously, GirlChild was the one who wanted to start taking lessons, my parents when they moved from our family home to a condo, didn't have the space to take the piano and gave it to us. It sat there for years occasionally being played by M. who, is also tone deaf, but managed to get his Grade 8 piano certificate. GirlChild asked to take lessons and has been playing for a year and a half, she loves it. It still always amazes me that she does not have to be nagged or threatened to practice, she just sits down whenever she has some free time and plays. She practices and also plays songs to amuse her little brother, she even asked her piano teacher for the sheet music for the theme for Star Wars, as this is BoyChild's favourite movie, and she learned to play it on her own during the summer holiday. I am just so grateful that she loves taking lessons and enjoys it, and don't get me wrong I have no illusions of her attending Juilliard or playing at Carnegie Hall, she likes to play the piano and that's good enough for me. So, I guess in the end it all evens out, we are mean parents because we make them go to church and take skating lessons, but we are also nice parents because we pay for piano and skiing lessons and let them eat chocolate, I guess that's the best we can hope for from our kids, that they think we are just okay, and I know they definitely didn't write that in the parenting books.
My children like to remind us on a fairly regular basis that we are the meanest parents in the world. It usually happens on Sundays. Today we skipped Mass (shhh...please don't tell my mother) but if we had attended Mass as we usually do, the whining, complaining and generally miserable behaviour would have begun at around 11 a.m. but since we didn't attend, it began around 2 p.m. , just before skating lessons. Yes, we are those mean and awful parents who have enrolled them in the torture that is skating lessons. You would think we were forcing them to pluck the eyes out of fluffy bunnies, if you heard the crying and hysterics that usually precedes leaving for the rink. Some Sundays are better than others, today actually was a fairly good day. Both children whined and complained but there were no tears today... you have to be grateful for the crumbs your children toss to you.
When I hear these words coming out of my mouth, I still can't believe how much I sound like my parents. "You will thank me for making you take lessons when you are older" GirlChild usually replies, "well when I'm older I will never, ever skate again in my life", to which I usually reply, "yes, but at least when you don't skate, it will be because you don't want to, not because you don't know how". Flawed logic perhaps, but it usually ends the argument.
M. and I know that learning to skate is tough and not a lot of fun in the beginning when most of the time is spent flat on your back rather than standing or actually skating, but we also know that it can be a lot of fun and as we tell them, they live in Canada and they have to know how to skate. We tried to take them on our own, but M.'s back couldn't take it anymore, his back would be in spasms after a session of being bent over trying to hold up BoyChild whose legs were like jelly and his feet were all over the place on the ice. So we signed the kids up for lessons and I am amazed at how much they have learned. BoyChild is the fastest in his little group and GirlChild keeps getting badges and is learning the finer techniques of skating backwards and jumping and spinning. I know they will thank us in the future, but sometimes it would be nice to get the recognition now, rather than the whining.
All right, I have to admit my parents were right, the 6 long years of piano lessons were worth it, I can now play Heart and Soul on the piano...that is the extent of my musical ability. What is it with Korean parents and taking piano lessons, my theory is that all those missionaries that came to Korea must have had their backing from some secret piano teachers Mafia/Triad/Hell's Angels gangs and through some sort of subliminal brainwashing convinced Koreans of the merits of piano lessons. How else do you explain the near hysteria and cult like following that Korean parents had and continue to have with piano lessons. All my parents' friends had their children enrolled in lessons. My parents were immigrants and money was very tight, yet they still found the extra money for lessons for my sister and I. The money for my lessons was not well spent, I am not musically gifted, actually I think I am tone deaf and I cannot carry a tune to save my life and I absolutely detested practicing.
But, guess what, yes, it's true. GirlChild is taking piano lessons. You are probably thinking, that woman is the meanest parent in the world, but I'm telling you, really, really I'm not. Seriously, GirlChild was the one who wanted to start taking lessons, my parents when they moved from our family home to a condo, didn't have the space to take the piano and gave it to us. It sat there for years occasionally being played by M. who, is also tone deaf, but managed to get his Grade 8 piano certificate. GirlChild asked to take lessons and has been playing for a year and a half, she loves it. It still always amazes me that she does not have to be nagged or threatened to practice, she just sits down whenever she has some free time and plays. She practices and also plays songs to amuse her little brother, she even asked her piano teacher for the sheet music for the theme for Star Wars, as this is BoyChild's favourite movie, and she learned to play it on her own during the summer holiday. I am just so grateful that she loves taking lessons and enjoys it, and don't get me wrong I have no illusions of her attending Juilliard or playing at Carnegie Hall, she likes to play the piano and that's good enough for me. So, I guess in the end it all evens out, we are mean parents because we make them go to church and take skating lessons, but we are also nice parents because we pay for piano and skiing lessons and let them eat chocolate, I guess that's the best we can hope for from our kids, that they think we are just okay, and I know they definitely didn't write that in the parenting books.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Be careful what you wish for..
My daughter had 3 wishes for Christmas, one of them was to have a white Christmas...unfortunately Santa couldn't deliver. I also hoped for a white Christmas so we could go downhill skiing over the holidays. Well, we've got lots of snow now, but with it came this frigging cold and Arctic temperatures...please God, give us a break. It reminds me of Robert Munsch's book, Wait and See, the little girl in the book has a birthday wish for snow and gets a winter storm in the middle of the summer, it's a great book, if you haven't read it check it out, both my kids love it.
Anyway, about the weather, I am glad we have the snow as we were able to go on our first ski outing this past weekend. Four years ago, my husband I had the bright idea that we would introduce our children to skiing to help get us all out of the house during the winter and it's a great family sport. There's just one teensy, weensy problem, I am the biggest klutz in the world, during any given time I have multiple bruises on my shins, hips or upper arms. My upper arm bruises come from the high counter top we have in our kitchen which I always manage to walk into on a regular basis, I remember last summer when I was wearing short sleeved tops strangers would take a look at my bruised upper arm and I could see them thinking "oh, poor thing, she's an abused wife".
God, I still have memories of always being the last one picked for teams in gym class, and the words "easy out" being called out whenever I was up to bat during baseball.
Anyway, back to skiing, I am a very, very cautious skier. I've skied over 30 times during the last 15 years but I still look like a novice on the slopes. I just can't let go of my fear that I will end up with a broken neck, leg, arm, or in a full body cast. So why do I ski, when it's really not that enjoyable and I would so much rather be in the chalet with a good book and some hot chocolate, well, I guess I just want to keep on trying and show my kids that I'm not giving up. It's supposed to be a "family" sport that we can all do together but GirlChild is already whizzing past me on the slopes, she skis on the toughest hills (black diamond) and on the half-pipe while I'm still on the beginner hills.
Which brings me to the story of BoyChild and skiing. We got BoyChild on skis 2 years ago when he was three years old.
Mistake #1 Unfortunately, we were at the wrong place, we should have waited until we were at the resort that GirlChild had her lessons, but due to various reasons we were at Mt. St. Phooey(not the real name, but it rhymes).
I dropped BoyChild off with his instructors for beginner lessons and I went off to rent my skis and get my lift ticket. I went back to check on him, boy am I glad I did. BoyChild was sitting off to the side by himself. As I went to talk to him, a young instructor (maybe 16 years old) came and met me,
Instructor: "BoyChild had an accident, he crashed into one of the signs"
Me: (mouth open, I'm thinking what the f*ck!!)
"BoyChild are you okay"
BoyChild: "Yes, I'm okay, but my bum hurts"
Me: "Are you sure you're okay"
BoyChild: "yup"
Instructor: "yes, it was quite a crash"
Me: Are you sure, you're okay, did you cry"
BoyChild: "yes, I cried, but I'm okay"
Instructor: "it was a really bad crash"
At this point I'm ready to strangle this girl, how the hell do you let a 3 year old crash into one of the signs on a bunny hill. What the hell were the instructors doing, picking their noses, instead of paying attention?
I'm also asking BoyChild if he can stand and asking him specific questions about where he is hurt, I've determined that his bum is sore but he's okay.
To cover their butts and to prevent me from suing them, they have one of the senior instructors come over and ask if I want him to have a free private lesson. I look at the instructor and she tells me, we'll have Cindy take him out, she's really great with kids. I look at her and say, well, she better be because I'm not sure if he even wants to go back out there. I ask BoyChild and he says he will give it another try, what a trooper, I tell him I am very proud of him.
Mistake #2 Well, we go to meet his instructor and apparently Cindy is not available, he goes with Susan. I look at Susan and let her know that this is his first day on skis and he has already had a bad crash and to take it easy with him, she says sure and off they go.
They come back from the lesson and I ask BoyChild if he had fun and he says it was okay.
Me: "So how did BoyChild do?"
(I'm thinking it's awesome that he even went back out on skis again after his bad fall and I'm hoping it was fun for him.)
Susan: "Well, he really needs a lot of work, he is pretty unsteady"
Me: silence...I am speechless
I am thinking, you stupid, stupid woman, did you not hear me when I said he had a bad fall because your idiot instructors let him crash into a sign, and it's awesome that he is giving it another try.
I didn't say a word to her, I just turned around and walked away from her, I really think I could have throttled her and frankly, I think the Judge would have let me off.
So to all of you out there who are thinking of enrolling your kids for lessons at Mt. St. Phooey near Barrie, you have been warned.
So, this past weekend, we went to another ski hill, and we convinced BoyChild to put on his skis and he did. M. spent two hours working with him and trying to make it fun and not scary. Apparently he had one very small fall and didn't want to continue but M. did what any self respecting father would do in that situation he resorted to bribes. So BoyChild has the promise of being able to play lots of games on the X-Box with his Dad. GirlChild and I both had lessons in the morning and then she skied with her Dad for the rest of the afternoon.
BoyChild and I had a really awesome time playing in the snow. We had snowball fights, made a little fort, he played on a really big rock, there was lots of ice around (I think they were leftover from ice sculptures) we made inukshuks from the ice. It was so much fun just to play.
So despite the frigid temperatures, I am glad for the snow because it makes me remember why I love living in a country that has four seasons, even though I am still afraid I will end up in a body cast one of these days.
Anyway, about the weather, I am glad we have the snow as we were able to go on our first ski outing this past weekend. Four years ago, my husband I had the bright idea that we would introduce our children to skiing to help get us all out of the house during the winter and it's a great family sport. There's just one teensy, weensy problem, I am the biggest klutz in the world, during any given time I have multiple bruises on my shins, hips or upper arms. My upper arm bruises come from the high counter top we have in our kitchen which I always manage to walk into on a regular basis, I remember last summer when I was wearing short sleeved tops strangers would take a look at my bruised upper arm and I could see them thinking "oh, poor thing, she's an abused wife".
God, I still have memories of always being the last one picked for teams in gym class, and the words "easy out" being called out whenever I was up to bat during baseball.
Anyway, back to skiing, I am a very, very cautious skier. I've skied over 30 times during the last 15 years but I still look like a novice on the slopes. I just can't let go of my fear that I will end up with a broken neck, leg, arm, or in a full body cast. So why do I ski, when it's really not that enjoyable and I would so much rather be in the chalet with a good book and some hot chocolate, well, I guess I just want to keep on trying and show my kids that I'm not giving up. It's supposed to be a "family" sport that we can all do together but GirlChild is already whizzing past me on the slopes, she skis on the toughest hills (black diamond) and on the half-pipe while I'm still on the beginner hills.
Which brings me to the story of BoyChild and skiing. We got BoyChild on skis 2 years ago when he was three years old.
Mistake #1 Unfortunately, we were at the wrong place, we should have waited until we were at the resort that GirlChild had her lessons, but due to various reasons we were at Mt. St. Phooey(not the real name, but it rhymes).
I dropped BoyChild off with his instructors for beginner lessons and I went off to rent my skis and get my lift ticket. I went back to check on him, boy am I glad I did. BoyChild was sitting off to the side by himself. As I went to talk to him, a young instructor (maybe 16 years old) came and met me,
Instructor: "BoyChild had an accident, he crashed into one of the signs"
Me: (mouth open, I'm thinking what the f*ck!!)
"BoyChild are you okay"
BoyChild: "Yes, I'm okay, but my bum hurts"
Me: "Are you sure you're okay"
BoyChild: "yup"
Instructor: "yes, it was quite a crash"
Me: Are you sure, you're okay, did you cry"
BoyChild: "yes, I cried, but I'm okay"
Instructor: "it was a really bad crash"
At this point I'm ready to strangle this girl, how the hell do you let a 3 year old crash into one of the signs on a bunny hill. What the hell were the instructors doing, picking their noses, instead of paying attention?
I'm also asking BoyChild if he can stand and asking him specific questions about where he is hurt, I've determined that his bum is sore but he's okay.
To cover their butts and to prevent me from suing them, they have one of the senior instructors come over and ask if I want him to have a free private lesson. I look at the instructor and she tells me, we'll have Cindy take him out, she's really great with kids. I look at her and say, well, she better be because I'm not sure if he even wants to go back out there. I ask BoyChild and he says he will give it another try, what a trooper, I tell him I am very proud of him.
Mistake #2 Well, we go to meet his instructor and apparently Cindy is not available, he goes with Susan. I look at Susan and let her know that this is his first day on skis and he has already had a bad crash and to take it easy with him, she says sure and off they go.
They come back from the lesson and I ask BoyChild if he had fun and he says it was okay.
Me: "So how did BoyChild do?"
(I'm thinking it's awesome that he even went back out on skis again after his bad fall and I'm hoping it was fun for him.)
Susan: "Well, he really needs a lot of work, he is pretty unsteady"
Me: silence...I am speechless
I am thinking, you stupid, stupid woman, did you not hear me when I said he had a bad fall because your idiot instructors let him crash into a sign, and it's awesome that he is giving it another try.
I didn't say a word to her, I just turned around and walked away from her, I really think I could have throttled her and frankly, I think the Judge would have let me off.
So to all of you out there who are thinking of enrolling your kids for lessons at Mt. St. Phooey near Barrie, you have been warned.
So, this past weekend, we went to another ski hill, and we convinced BoyChild to put on his skis and he did. M. spent two hours working with him and trying to make it fun and not scary. Apparently he had one very small fall and didn't want to continue but M. did what any self respecting father would do in that situation he resorted to bribes. So BoyChild has the promise of being able to play lots of games on the X-Box with his Dad. GirlChild and I both had lessons in the morning and then she skied with her Dad for the rest of the afternoon.
BoyChild and I had a really awesome time playing in the snow. We had snowball fights, made a little fort, he played on a really big rock, there was lots of ice around (I think they were leftover from ice sculptures) we made inukshuks from the ice. It was so much fun just to play.
So despite the frigid temperatures, I am glad for the snow because it makes me remember why I love living in a country that has four seasons, even though I am still afraid I will end up in a body cast one of these days.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
SuperBowl memories
SuperBowl Sunday will always be special to me. I really have to clarify that statement. First of all, I am not a sports junkie, I never watched an entire football game until I met my then-boyfriend, now my husband. His family, his 2 brothers and father are football obsessed, especially for the Pittsburgh Steelers. I had never been around such avid sports fans before in my life. My father watched sports sometimes, mostly hockey and baseball, but he never watched football games with the intensity, concentration and devotion that I witnessed around M's family. When the Steelers were on nothing else mattered, the outside world disappeared and the only thing that mattered was the progress of the game. All the plays were analyzed and discussed ad nauseum.
Growing up with an older sister, I guess I was never around such a testerone charged atmosphere and after living in an all female residence/dorm during university, men were still a mystery to me, so the football game watching experience was new, fun and interesting.
I saw a very different side of M., he was so even tempered, calm and unflappable, but put him in front of a t.v. and a Steelers game he was transformed into a typical male sports fan, cursing, cheering, yelling and teasing his younger brother when the Steelers made a bad play.
Fast forward 14 years and too many Steelers games to count in the interim, needless to say all of the next generation were brought up to love and revere the Steelers as much as their fathers. So last year, our beloved Steelers finally made it to the SuperBowl. We hosted a party, with M.'s older brother C., C's two sons, M. and Josh, my other brother-in-law and M's parents. It was an awesome night, the Steelers did it, they actually won the Superbowl, the excitement, euphoria and joy was palpable in the room. It was such a special night and such a wonderful way to celebrate the Steeler's victory. It was also the last night that we would see 14 year old Josh. Barely a month later, he was dead. It was an accident, no one was to blame, it just happened.
So tonight is another SuperBowl and it is another first, the first SuperBowl without Josh. I am so grateful we hosted the party, so grateful we were all together to celebrate the Steelers triumph, so grateful I got to hug and kiss Josh before he went home, so grateful we will always have that memory of that special night. Whenever the words "SuperBowl" are spoken I immediately think of Josh and the night that was so special. I love you Josh.
Growing up with an older sister, I guess I was never around such a testerone charged atmosphere and after living in an all female residence/dorm during university, men were still a mystery to me, so the football game watching experience was new, fun and interesting.
I saw a very different side of M., he was so even tempered, calm and unflappable, but put him in front of a t.v. and a Steelers game he was transformed into a typical male sports fan, cursing, cheering, yelling and teasing his younger brother when the Steelers made a bad play.
Fast forward 14 years and too many Steelers games to count in the interim, needless to say all of the next generation were brought up to love and revere the Steelers as much as their fathers. So last year, our beloved Steelers finally made it to the SuperBowl. We hosted a party, with M.'s older brother C., C's two sons, M. and Josh, my other brother-in-law and M's parents. It was an awesome night, the Steelers did it, they actually won the Superbowl, the excitement, euphoria and joy was palpable in the room. It was such a special night and such a wonderful way to celebrate the Steeler's victory. It was also the last night that we would see 14 year old Josh. Barely a month later, he was dead. It was an accident, no one was to blame, it just happened.
So tonight is another SuperBowl and it is another first, the first SuperBowl without Josh. I am so grateful we hosted the party, so grateful we were all together to celebrate the Steelers triumph, so grateful I got to hug and kiss Josh before he went home, so grateful we will always have that memory of that special night. Whenever the words "SuperBowl" are spoken I immediately think of Josh and the night that was so special. I love you Josh.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Ramblings
Was home sick on Thursday, so got the rare chance to watch some daytime t.v.
I love watching TLC's The Baby Story, Wedding Story and Bringing Home Baby. All about new beginnings and the start of wonderful adventures. Watching the baby shows brought back the memories of my children as newborns. My daughter, my firstborn, my God, the pressure I put on myself to make sure I was going to be the perfect mother, I was going to do this right, damn it and not screw it up. Well, the pressure is still there but not for me to be perfect but for me to actually sit back and listen to my children, for me to give myself some slack when my choices and decisions aren't perfect, to try and not care what others may think about me but do what is best for my family and for me.
When I watched the shows I saw a lot of myself in those new parents, the doubt, the insecurity, will I get it right, the absolute joy and intensity of new motherhood. I realize how far I have come and how far I still have to go, who knows what new adventures, sorrows and joy are in store for me, I still have doubts and insecurities, am I strong enough to face what may come, will I make the right choices.
One thing is for certain, I am so glad the days of night time feedings, diaper changes and sleepless nights are over. Actually, I guess if you're a parent sleepless nights will always be there due to one reason or another, but I digress.
Will not miss about having a newborn:
1. utter exhaustion/walking zombie days
2.cracked nipples
3.colic
4.completely freaking myself out by reading medical journals and comparing symptoms for horrible diseases, which my babies never had
5.overload of hormones
6.crying fits
7.constant stress about SIDS
8.worrying that the belly button/cord will get infected, waiting for the damn cord to fall off
9.leaking nipples
10.having to count wet/poopy diapers
Woohoo! I survived having 2 newborns and I didn't drop any of them on their head, do I get a prize?
I love watching TLC's The Baby Story, Wedding Story and Bringing Home Baby. All about new beginnings and the start of wonderful adventures. Watching the baby shows brought back the memories of my children as newborns. My daughter, my firstborn, my God, the pressure I put on myself to make sure I was going to be the perfect mother, I was going to do this right, damn it and not screw it up. Well, the pressure is still there but not for me to be perfect but for me to actually sit back and listen to my children, for me to give myself some slack when my choices and decisions aren't perfect, to try and not care what others may think about me but do what is best for my family and for me.
When I watched the shows I saw a lot of myself in those new parents, the doubt, the insecurity, will I get it right, the absolute joy and intensity of new motherhood. I realize how far I have come and how far I still have to go, who knows what new adventures, sorrows and joy are in store for me, I still have doubts and insecurities, am I strong enough to face what may come, will I make the right choices.
One thing is for certain, I am so glad the days of night time feedings, diaper changes and sleepless nights are over. Actually, I guess if you're a parent sleepless nights will always be there due to one reason or another, but I digress.
Will not miss about having a newborn:
1. utter exhaustion/walking zombie days
2.cracked nipples
3.colic
4.completely freaking myself out by reading medical journals and comparing symptoms for horrible diseases, which my babies never had
5.overload of hormones
6.crying fits
7.constant stress about SIDS
8.worrying that the belly button/cord will get infected, waiting for the damn cord to fall off
9.leaking nipples
10.having to count wet/poopy diapers
Woohoo! I survived having 2 newborns and I didn't drop any of them on their head, do I get a prize?
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