trees give us energy

If you have ever wondered of the books that you read to your kidlets at night actually affect the way that they think, get a load of some of the lengthy and in depth conversations  I end up having with Rohan about trees.  Actually, it has mostly him telling me about trees.  Our conversation usually goes something like this;

Rohan: They have to stop cutting down all of out trees, they have cut down, like, ten of them already.

Me: You are right Rohan it is not nice to cut down so many trees.  But what do we need trees for Rohan?

Rohan:  Trees give us maple syrup and good energy, we need trees very very much.  They should plant a tree.  But it is a lot of work, we have to get water and then water them, too much work.

Me:  Well Rohan, most of the trees get their water from the rain, so planting a tree isn't so much work after all.

Rohan:  They ruin everything when they cut down so many trees.

Ha!  I have actually had this conversation with Rohan during almost every single nature walk we have.  My little environmentalist, don't get him started on littering.......

If you are wondering about the book?  The Lorax of course!

Number One Fan

Rohan loves to sing.  I may have mentioned this in times past, and it still very very much true today.  In fact, he has elevated to using words in his songs naming them such catchy ditties as 'eat your dinner', oh god, there was a hilarious one today and I cannot seem to remember it.  Regardless, he sings a lot.

All of the time.  He may have caught this from me, the Broadway way..  I sing.  A lot.  About everything.  He listens to me when I sing.  He dances.  He loves it.  At least someone does.  He may be my biggest fan.

And Rohans biggest fan?  I thought for sure it would be me, his mother, it would make sense right?  But sometimes, very occasionally (see: all the bloody time) his singing gets a little shrill, loud and kind of painful to hear, for me anyway.  But there is one other being in our home that cannot seem to get enough of Rohans melodic melodies.

Avery.

He swings his arms, flails his legs, shakes his body, waves his head from side to side.  He has even had occasions in which he has joined in the rhythm and blues busting out of Rohans mouth.  Both of them singing away.  It is the greatest thing on earth to watch.  Seriously.

There's Rohan playing with something and almost subconsciously singing away, you glance across the room at Avery, and there he is flailing about with a look of total elation alight in his eyes.  Ahhh these boys, sometimes they really rock my world.  Really.

Commitment Phoebe to the extreme

To continue on the thoughts of my previous post and the sentiments of career searches, parenthood and what to be when I grow up, I have had a personal awakening.  I hum and haw about almost EVERYTHING.  It is not because I don't want to this, or I don't want to that (though, of course, these are minor parts in the big picture), it is because I have commitment phoebe to the extreme.  To the extremey McExtremersons.

An example of this disease is my contemplation of today.  Do I go to the store and purchase a coffee.  The thought process of such a decision was as follows:

'Do I really need a coffee, I have already had one today'
'Should I really spend the money?  I need to be more aware of a budget as I don't have incoming cashola'
'Yup, I should get coffee, I brought my take away cup, I should just do it.  Besides, I can't go in there and buy a muffin and then hide it in my pocket so Rohan cannot see it, I have to make it look like I went in there for a reason...'
'Yes I should absolutely get a muffin'
'Hmmm should I really go to the store?  *glances at clock* I have to kill some time so as to not be to early for school, yes, I should definitely go to the store'
'Oh but the money'
'I should get Rohan a smoothy'
'I will use my bank card so I can still have cash on me'
etc. etc. etc

Final decision? Coffee, cookie, smoothy and a chapstick so I can put it all on the card with less guilt.  All of this and more during a 10 minute drive to take Rohan to school.  Crazy!

If this is the torment I go through to figure out whether I should get a coffee, imagine the utter distress that consumes me when I think about the possibility of going back to school, to do what, and what careery type job I would like to take on and suffer with (enjoy) until retirement (fingers crossed on retirement).  Why am I not one of those career driven, knows what she wants and lets nothing stand in her way in order to achieve it kind of gals?

I hum, I haw, I procrastinate.  If something gets in my way, I figure it was not meant to be and move on.  I am so unmotivated and I am not sure how it happened.  I am so unorganized on so many levels that I am putting my virgoism to shame.

I would love for someone to just tell me what I would be good at, and go from there.  Self doubt is creating a defeatist attitude, and in turn forcing me to remain at a stand still.

I am at present knitting Rohan a sweater, maybe if I finish this small project, I will be able to do the same with larger and more life altering decisions?!  I mean, I did finally decide to get the coffee and cookie, and I do not regret a thing.................

Oh me oh my, what is a girl to do?

I am having a difficult time finding a job and child care these days.  A statement that is a whole lot of truth, but on more levels than you may think.  Have I made an honest effort in my attempts at seeking employment/care for my children?

Nope, I really haven't.

Why you may ask?  Well I feel as if I have reached a critical point in my job seeking career.  I am now 32 with 2 children and I am at the point where the job I acquire may very well have, and should have, a permanent position in my life.  I can not help but think that I longer have the luxury to find any old employment.  Any old job.  I have to love it.  I have to make actual money with it, or it is just not worth it.

Not worth what you may ask.  Not worth paying someone else to take a major part in raising my children.  And so it brings me to child care.  Have I inquired anywhere for childcare as of yet?  Nope.  I have not even made an honest effort to put my little feelers out.  I have tried to think of possible alternatives to sending the kiddies to daycare, friends, alternatives in job hours, in jobs.

Actually, it is the finding of daycare for Avery that is killing me.  He is too young.  He needs his mama, or someone he is related to or extremely comfortable with.  I just cannot bring myself to send him away to day care.  He still nurses on demand.  He is still a baby.  He doesn't understand why I am leaving him every day.  Rohan can understand words, though the actual concept of a job may not get in, I do know that he is doing very well at school and I find that encouraging.  He is older, he has had 3 and a half years with me, I feel better about his possible enrollment into a daycare.  I have done the majority of raising him.  He is okay.

But not my baby.  It feels so wrong that I was able to give so much of myself for so long to one child and so little to the other.  I am really in a turmoil here.  I don't want to give him up.  And so the delay in a serious job search, and so the delay in childcare.  It has to happen soon, but I have forced myself into some sort of standstill.

The man is off work come December, I would love to wait until then.  But can we afford that?  And what happens come summer time when he has to go back to work?  What happens to my job?

Oh yes, my mind is reeling, the stress is building and the funds are running out.  And so it goes when you don't have a career before you have a family. Oh yes, and that serious lack of french knowledge while living in Quebec really does not help!

Oh me oh my, what is a girl to do??

It's business time

The difference between the male and female role in parenthood glared out at me this morning.  When I had to go to the bathroom to do my business I did it downstairs. I kept the door open to make sure I could keep a strict eye on the bambino.  This process took less than a minute flat.

When the man did his bu'ness he went upstairs, closed the door, locked it, and stayed in there FOREVER without a care in the world.

At least one of us still maintains some sense of privacy.............right??  Bah.

Baby talk is for Babies

I had the pleasure of spending a bit of time with the kids at Rohan's Preschool on his first day, as the dressing parent.  At any given day there are two parents helping out in the classroom.  There is the duty parent that stays for the duration of the class time, helping the teacher with bathroom breaks and providing nutritional snacks for the kiddies.

The dressing parent comes in just before the kids get ready to go outside for playtime.  The role of the dressing parent is just that, to dress the kids, or help dress them, in outdoor clothing appropriate for the weather.  So I was the dressing parent that beautiful sunny first day of school.  I had to show up about 40 minutes early to help the kids get dressed.  Good god these kids are cute!

I was a bit early (no matter how hard I try not to be, I am ALWAYS early) and I was able to watch the teacher in action.  She was amazing.  The kids listened to her every time with no complaints at all.  She talked calmly, softly, slowly, enunciating every word she spoke.  Easy, small, short words and sentences.  She was so gentle with them, with just a tinge of baby talk, but not quite.

Watching and listening to her speak made me realize that I talk to Rohan (and Avery) as if they were my peers and not 30 years my junior.  I talk to them as if assuming that they do, and should, understand what I am asking them or talking to them about.  How did this happen?

I am thinking that it all stemmed from my vow to myself not to talk goopey, ridiculous baby talk with Rohan.  I did a bit, you know, excitable, wind them up talk.  But not the goo goo gaa gaa crap that oozes out of some people.  I did not want to be that mom.  And yet, there he is, listening intently to the teacher who talks to him like he is a kid.

There might be something there.  I am always feeling compelled to smarten up my talk, but now, for once, I may very well need to dumb it down a bit so that my children can finally understand what the hell I am saying.  I may even get them to listen to me..........

Another theory I tested today was the singing theory.  Instead of asking Ro-Dog to do something, I sang out the task in melodic, off key, musical style, song.  It actually worked quite often.  Strange.  And so continues My Life the musical.

Pre School? Stair climbing?? The advancement continues...

And so, my little ones are growing up.  The littlest went from Dolphin belly flop crawl to climbing stairs in one month flat.  Babam, just like that.  My bigger guy? He had his first day of Preschool this week.  It went amazingly!

I had been pumping him up for school for a good week, reminding him of the fun he had during his orientation day playing with sand etc etc.  He seemed pretty excited about it, though I was nervous that he would have a hard time letting me go. I mean this physically of course.  I was having mental images of peeling his arms from around my neck and bolting out the door (well, maybe a bit more graceful than that.......maybe).

But it was opposite town.

It took no struggle at all to get him out of the car, into the building, shoes off, indoor shoes on, pee pee, wash hands, walk into class room.  Nothing.  Not so much as a 'I don't want to' stumbled from his amazing, big boy lips.

We walked into the classroom and almost immediately he took his teacher's hand as she led him to the sticker area.  I walked over to him, shock and a little fear being secretly suppressed wayyyyy down, as I helped him get a couple of stickers out.  Then I told him that I had to go check on Avery (asleep in the car) and that I would be back in one hour and twenty minutes (yes, my 3 year old totally grasps the concept of time, doesn't yours?).  He said okay.  He gave me a kiss.  He said goodbye.  I left.  Done.  I heard no echo of screaming or pounding feet chasing after me.  I Practically burned rubber squealing out of there.

I wanted to call, I was worried that he was losing the plot, and that they were unable to console him.  I felt guilty.  I felt lighter.  Elated.  I read and drank coffee and chatted with friends at the coffee shop while Avery slept.  It was dreamy.

I got back.  He didn't even run up to me when I walked in the room.  He just sat and quietly ate his snack.  He ate his snack.  No fighting with him to eat.  Dreamy.

Apparently he did not even once ask after me once I left.  I guess we were both pretty ready for this moment of separation.  It was time.  We were just fighting all the time.  He needed to play with kids his own age, enjoy some much needed structure, much needed fun times.

Ahhhhhh  what an effin' relief!  I don't know what I was so afraid of.....................