So. Say you plan a surprise date for your husband. Your first all-by-yourselves date in, like, a year. You line up a babysitter, you buy the tickets, you've got it all planned out. You're golden.
Don't tell the three year old.
Gosh. Writing it out makes it sound so ridiculously obvious.
I'm a dolt.
...In other news, we're going on a date in a couple weeks!
Thursday, 4 November 2010
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
When you come across...
...the baby playing with his older brother's paintbrush and paint water from this morning's activity...
...it's probably best to just laugh and grab the camera...
...and then wonder how toxic that paint was.
By the way, how is this boy almost a whole year old? Where did the last ten months go??
Tuesday, 2 November 2010
Buckle toy
We spent our Thanksgiving last month with my wonderful in-laws. Every time we visit, I feel so blessed to have their example and their support in my life. They are an incredible family.
The less wonderful part, however, was the 11 hour drive to their house. With two kids. By myself.
Oh, the horror.
(Because the boys and I were going earlier and staying longer than their daddy, I drove them up by myself while he flew there and back. Lucky, lucky man.)
It wasn't all bad. I did take the opportunity to listen to some of my guilty pleasures in the absence of a protesting party. Cher...The Archies...Simple Plan...oh, I am so ashamed right now. Please don't think too poorly of me! And, of course, there was lots of Great Big Sea played - but that's no guilty pleasure. That's just awesome music.
Anyway. I needed a plan to keep the boy occupied during the 11 hour drive. Part of said plan involved the dollar store and some wrapping paper. The idea was to get one new "surprise" every hour of the trip.
Yeah. Tell that to the three year old.
What followed our departure was several hours of "can I open another one now??" Eventually I gave up and he went to town, opening all the remaining packages and then covering himself and his baby brother in stickers.
Meh. Whatever got us there with my sanity intact.
One of my pre-trip projects was a buckle toy for the boy. Buckles don't stay unclipped for long in our home, so I figured it was a sure thing for keeping him occupied.
The general idea came from a tutorial at Quirky Momma, though I pretty much just winged it. I was quite happy with how it turned out.
I added a button and loop so it could be rolled up and fastened when not in use.
More than two weeks later, I often find him clipping away on his new toy. I consider this project a success!
The less wonderful part, however, was the 11 hour drive to their house. With two kids. By myself.
Oh, the horror.
(Because the boys and I were going earlier and staying longer than their daddy, I drove them up by myself while he flew there and back. Lucky, lucky man.)
It wasn't all bad. I did take the opportunity to listen to some of my guilty pleasures in the absence of a protesting party. Cher...The Archies...Simple Plan...oh, I am so ashamed right now. Please don't think too poorly of me! And, of course, there was lots of Great Big Sea played - but that's no guilty pleasure. That's just awesome music.
Anyway. I needed a plan to keep the boy occupied during the 11 hour drive. Part of said plan involved the dollar store and some wrapping paper. The idea was to get one new "surprise" every hour of the trip.
Yeah. Tell that to the three year old.
What followed our departure was several hours of "can I open another one now??" Eventually I gave up and he went to town, opening all the remaining packages and then covering himself and his baby brother in stickers.
Meh. Whatever got us there with my sanity intact.
One of my pre-trip projects was a buckle toy for the boy. Buckles don't stay unclipped for long in our home, so I figured it was a sure thing for keeping him occupied.
The general idea came from a tutorial at Quirky Momma, though I pretty much just winged it. I was quite happy with how it turned out.
I added a button and loop so it could be rolled up and fastened when not in use.
More than two weeks later, I often find him clipping away on his new toy. I consider this project a success!
Monday, 1 November 2010
Mornings
I'm not a morning person. Not in the least. But I have two precious boys who make each morning just that slight bit more bearable.
The baby is an early riser (*yawn*). He kicks me out of bed early in the morning because otherwise he lays there happily babbling away and attempting to gouge out his older brother's eyes. This usually results in said older brother taking a few sleepy swings at the wee instigator while I quickly scoop him out of harm's way and leave big bro to snooze for a while longer.
The boy is a boy after my own heart - a night owl and late morning sleeper, just like his parents. One of my favourite moments of every day is when he finally stumbles sleepily from the bedroom to join his "bruzzer" and I. I've learned not to talk to him or even look at him when he comes out, lest I be met with a grumpy roar. I just open my arms and he crawls onto my lap. We snuggle in silence together for a few precious minutes. Finally, he'll say, "I'm hung-ga-ry, Mommy." And so our day together begins.
Thank you, God, for these sweet boys. Raise them up to be men who know, love, and follow You.
The baby is an early riser (*yawn*). He kicks me out of bed early in the morning because otherwise he lays there happily babbling away and attempting to gouge out his older brother's eyes. This usually results in said older brother taking a few sleepy swings at the wee instigator while I quickly scoop him out of harm's way and leave big bro to snooze for a while longer.
The boy is a boy after my own heart - a night owl and late morning sleeper, just like his parents. One of my favourite moments of every day is when he finally stumbles sleepily from the bedroom to join his "bruzzer" and I. I've learned not to talk to him or even look at him when he comes out, lest I be met with a grumpy roar. I just open my arms and he crawls onto my lap. We snuggle in silence together for a few precious minutes. Finally, he'll say, "I'm hung-ga-ry, Mommy." And so our day together begins.
Thank you, God, for these sweet boys. Raise them up to be men who know, love, and follow You.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
Teaching myself my own lessons
It had been a long day. I was distracted. I'd asked the boy to do something (I can't recall what it was) what felt like a hundred times, and it still hadn't been done. (Mistake #1 - not ensuring it happened after the first time I requested it.)
In my distraction, I carelessly tossed out a threat: "If such-and-such isn't done immediately, you won't get a bedtime story." Immediately I chastised myself. I'd just come up with a completely arbitrary punishment despite recognizing the many pitfalls of using punishment (or praise) to control behaviour. Mistake #2.
He paused, considered for a few seconds, and then said, "okay. I won't have a bedtime story. Okay?" And he started walking off to play.
D'oh.
I walked right into that one. I'd said it myself:
He had considered my threat and determined that the loss of his bedtime story was worth avoiding whatever it was I'd asked him to do.
Lesson unequivocally driven home, I gave myself a mental shake and turned my full attention to the situation, as I should have done in the first place instead of absentmindedly and repeatedly tossing out my request to a distracted three year old. I called him back to the table, apologized for making a foolish threat, and reinforced that no, my request wasn't optional. I restated my request in a proper manner (firm and clear), using eye contact and physical touch (my hand on his shoulder) to ensure I had his full attention. He immediately and cheerfully completed the task I'd asked him to do, and we both carried on with our day.
Discipline. Not punishment.
In my distraction, I carelessly tossed out a threat: "If such-and-such isn't done immediately, you won't get a bedtime story." Immediately I chastised myself. I'd just come up with a completely arbitrary punishment despite recognizing the many pitfalls of using punishment (or praise) to control behaviour. Mistake #2.
He paused, considered for a few seconds, and then said, "okay. I won't have a bedtime story. Okay?" And he started walking off to play.
D'oh.
I walked right into that one. I'd said it myself:
Finally, the child will come to consider whether the negative behaviour is “worth” the punishment. Is sneaking this candy “worth” the spank I will get? Is taunting my little sister “worth” being sent to my room for a while? And then what recourse does the parent have left when a punishment is no longer effective? Harder spankings? Longer groundings? More loss of privilege? There’s only so much you can do once the child has learned to weigh the negative behaviour against the likely punishment – and then the behaviour spirals out of control.
He had considered my threat and determined that the loss of his bedtime story was worth avoiding whatever it was I'd asked him to do.
Lesson unequivocally driven home, I gave myself a mental shake and turned my full attention to the situation, as I should have done in the first place instead of absentmindedly and repeatedly tossing out my request to a distracted three year old. I called him back to the table, apologized for making a foolish threat, and reinforced that no, my request wasn't optional. I restated my request in a proper manner (firm and clear), using eye contact and physical touch (my hand on his shoulder) to ensure I had his full attention. He immediately and cheerfully completed the task I'd asked him to do, and we both carried on with our day.
Discipline. Not punishment.
Monday, 11 October 2010
To whom much is given
Every year on Thanksgiving, it's the same thing: Why me?
Why me? Why have I been blessed with so much? Why do I only need to turn on a tap to have a drink of cold water or a nice warm shower? Why do I have food on my table and clothes in my closet? Why do I knit and sew for fun rather than necessity? Why was I born in this wonderful country?
Why me?
Every year, the same guilt sucks the joy out of my blessings. How can I praise God for His good and perfect gifts while another family wonders where their next meal will come from, another mother watches her child wasting away, another child must work rather than attend school?
Why me?
Finally, this year, I have my answer.
I have been given much. So much. And it is meet and right to praise God for those blessings He has showered upon me.
But from those who have been given much, much will be demanded. Much is expected from me. It is my responsibility and my joy to bless others in turn. My question must not be why me, nor why not them, but simply what is now expected from me? What can I now do to give out of my great wealth? Time, money, possessions, encouragement, love, prayer - all these things I can, must, be willing to give.
May my eyes be open to the deep need around me, and may I never fail to give as the opportunity arises. To my fellow Canadians, blessings to you on this Thanksgiving day!
Why me? Why have I been blessed with so much? Why do I only need to turn on a tap to have a drink of cold water or a nice warm shower? Why do I have food on my table and clothes in my closet? Why do I knit and sew for fun rather than necessity? Why was I born in this wonderful country?
Why me?
Every year, the same guilt sucks the joy out of my blessings. How can I praise God for His good and perfect gifts while another family wonders where their next meal will come from, another mother watches her child wasting away, another child must work rather than attend school?
Why me?
Finally, this year, I have my answer.
"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."
Luke 12:48b
I have been given much. So much. And it is meet and right to praise God for those blessings He has showered upon me.
But from those who have been given much, much will be demanded. Much is expected from me. It is my responsibility and my joy to bless others in turn. My question must not be why me, nor why not them, but simply what is now expected from me? What can I now do to give out of my great wealth? Time, money, possessions, encouragement, love, prayer - all these things I can, must, be willing to give.
May my eyes be open to the deep need around me, and may I never fail to give as the opportunity arises. To my fellow Canadians, blessings to you on this Thanksgiving day!
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