Kieran is enrolled in a kids' soccer league. The key word is "enrolled" because he is, apparently, no longer attending. So he tells us.
Let me back up here. For the past two years, he has been alternating swimming lessons with a session of "Sportball" which is basically a non-competitive sports sports class for kids. One class is football, the next baseball, then tennis, soccer, golf etc. And he has loved it. He would wake up on Saturday and say, joyously, "Am I going to Sportball today? YAY!!!"
Once the last session ended in the spring,the next session was "outdoor soccer" so I signed him up. The first class was held on the lawn of the church where the indoor sessions are held The church has a gym and a couple of classrooms attached, which are part of a Montessori school. On the morning of the second class, we showed up and the class had been moved back into the gym. Turns out the owners of the house beside the church complained that the 4-year-olds playing soccer at 10 am on Saturday mornings were too noisy and were threatening some sort of legal action. Let me repeat, for 4-year-olds happily playing soccer on a church lawn. And here I was unaware that Satan and his family were living so close by.
Anyway, I digress.
The last class of the spring session, Kieran had to stop playing because he had wrenched his knee on the trampoline and he couldn't really run. We thought nothing of it, and signed him up for the summer session.
First class of summer session and Eric tells him to get ready and all hell breaks loose. Complete meltdown of outrageous proportions. Eric forced him to go. It was the hottest day of the year. Kieran went out on the field for a few minutes then sat down and refused to play.
After much tsk tsking, we managed to extract a promise from him that he would be fine next week. But the night before the class when I told him that soccer was the next day, the meltdown started anew.
They had given him a jersey and a soccer ball, which I said we would give to Kaya. He says OK. Wait. What? Hmmmm wasn't expecting that. I tried talking to him, trying to figure out where things had gone so wrong. He is unable to give me even the remotest explanation of what went wrong. The most I could get out of him was that it was "too hot", which was undeniably true, but it is a hollow argument since he was refusing to go even before he knew how unbearable it was going to be once he got there.
Eric told him that since he promised to go last week and now was refusing, that he needed to go his room and think about it. Then, we got a brilliant idea. We would threaten to take away his newest, most prized possession - a brand new Nintendo DS that he had just been given from Eric's brother. Surely, an hour of soccer cannot be worse than losing your brand new Nintendo that has a really cool car game that you love, right? RIGHT?
"OK Daddy, you can take away the DS." Jesus. The kid, really, really doesn't want to go.
So, with the Nintendo gone, we are now at a loss. Obviously neither bribes nor threats are going to work. What is left? Apparently I am ill equipped at true parenting because after about an hour of the "night before soccer" drama, I decided to throw in the towel. I called the organization and asked for a refund. The bored summer student told me they don't offer refunds once the session has started. OK, can I move him? I'm thinking I can move him back to an indoor fall session and start from scratch. No, the bored student tells me we can only move to a class offered in the same season. Which is soccer, soccer and soccer.
So, I told Kieran that he was going to have to go and that was all there was to it. He flat out says no. For the past few days he reminds me every chance he gets that he is not going. He wakes up in the morning and says "Mom, I'm not going to Sportball". He gets in the car after daycare and says "Mom, I'm not going to Sportball." I told him that he needed to finish his dinner and he says "OK, but I'm not going to Sportball." Bedtime: "Goodnight Mommy. I'm not going to Sportball." I told him to stop talking about it.
Who is going to win this epic battle? Do we force him to do something he clearly now hates just to show him who's in charge? Or do I respect his unwavering refusal to go. After all, he has already given up his jersey, ball and Nintendo (all of which he would get back if he tried again).
It's exhausting, this parenting thing.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Life's a Circus. Or a Sauna. Sometimes both.
Settled back in my regular job nicely. Of course, two of my coworkers are on vacation so I have been quite a bit busier than I would have liked. I don't have any vacation planned for July, which sucks short term because it always feels like I'm working the summer away, but I will be happy in August when I finally do have some time off.
Besides, with the crazy heat wave going on it's sort of nice to spend all day guilt-free in a nicely air-conditioned office. If I was at home, I would feel like I should be outside, which let's be honest, is very unpleasant when the air is so thick you could chew it. Coming from the far-ish north, I didn't grow up with humidity - like, at all - so I think that no matter how long I live elsewhere, I will never learn to enjoy it.
Speaking of heat waves, we took the kids to the circus last weekend. The tickets were $20 each, Kieran was half price and Kaya was free. Figured it was a cheap-ish way to do something fun with the kids. I mean, really, who doesn't love the circus. Animals, monkey firefighters, clowns, etc, right? RIGHT?
God, I am so naive.
We got there and the kids were thrilled. There were clowns wandering around, walking pretend dogs and ruffling kids hair, it all seemed good. When we got inside there was small tent where they sold their overpriced snacks and souvenirs and then we adjourned to the big tent. We walked inside the "Big Top"...and were met with a wall of heat like I have never felt indoors except in a sauna. In fact, it was a sauna. We snagged seats in the front row and sat there for a few minutes. Sure we could see but these hot lights (I swear they were heat lamps) were beating right down on us. Someone asked one of the carnies if the lights ever got turned off, but he didn't know. We figured we should move because we still had a half hour until the show started and we had only been there three minutes and all four of us where already sweating beyond belief.
So, we moved to seats away from the lights, where it was still sweltering but at least the lights weren't also blazing on us. Eric went to buy drinks and spend $15 on two bottles of juice and a big cup of lemonade. Then it was $5 for .10 cents worth of popcorn. Then Kieran wanted one of these spinning light up wands and we figured what the heck they seemed kind of neat: $15. Oy. No more spending.
The show started and these unfunny clowns come out for a few seconds, followed by a woman on a big horse who rode around the ring for 5 minutes. Uh-oh. Way to open with a show stopper. Then 5 more horses came out and ran in circles around the ring for another 5-10 minutes. I look at Eric. More uh-oh. We are pouring sweat and the "ringmaster" kept announcing they have "ice cold beverages" for sale. Our ice cold waters were already room temperature.
Next, three Asian girls with some yo-yo type things, another Asian girl who hung from some ribbons from the ceiling for a bit, more Asians balancing teacups on their heads, more Asians spinning parasols with the feet, a "funny photographer" who picked "real people" from the audience to be in his act where they were made to do funny poses in ape costumes, finally an Asian guy spinning Chinese vases on his head. Intermission.
The kids were bored stiff, the acts were not interesting enough for kids and not nearly sophisticated enough for adults. There were periodics wafts of hot air coming up from behind the seats every so often which made Eric think that they were just heating the place up to get people to buy the "ice cold drinks, snow cones, etc", Kaya was starting to roam around the seats causing trouble, Kieran was so hot he was in a stupor. I looked the program we had to buy ($1) which outlined the "acts" and almost none of it matched what we had seen. The next act said there were elephants coming up, but suddenly I doubted that was going to happen. Our babysitter had gone earlier in the week and had mentioned that there were no elephants, so I figured the program was a giant lie. The only part of the program that seemed true was the disclaimer that said "due to the nature of live performances, we reserve the right to alter these acts at any time."
Could we last another hour or so? The intermission "balloon guy" came out and Kieran wanted one (we said no), and I could just see that we were not going to last until the end without some serious money spending just to keep us cool and hydrated and quiet, so we cut our losses and split.
Even in the blazing afternoon heat it was far cooler outside. We went home and filled up the kiddie pool, put the slide in it and the kids had a absolute ball for the rest of day. For free. Take that Shriners.
Besides, with the crazy heat wave going on it's sort of nice to spend all day guilt-free in a nicely air-conditioned office. If I was at home, I would feel like I should be outside, which let's be honest, is very unpleasant when the air is so thick you could chew it. Coming from the far-ish north, I didn't grow up with humidity - like, at all - so I think that no matter how long I live elsewhere, I will never learn to enjoy it.
Speaking of heat waves, we took the kids to the circus last weekend. The tickets were $20 each, Kieran was half price and Kaya was free. Figured it was a cheap-ish way to do something fun with the kids. I mean, really, who doesn't love the circus. Animals, monkey firefighters, clowns, etc, right? RIGHT?
God, I am so naive.
We got there and the kids were thrilled. There were clowns wandering around, walking pretend dogs and ruffling kids hair, it all seemed good. When we got inside there was small tent where they sold their overpriced snacks and souvenirs and then we adjourned to the big tent. We walked inside the "Big Top"...and were met with a wall of heat like I have never felt indoors except in a sauna. In fact, it was a sauna. We snagged seats in the front row and sat there for a few minutes. Sure we could see but these hot lights (I swear they were heat lamps) were beating right down on us. Someone asked one of the carnies if the lights ever got turned off, but he didn't know. We figured we should move because we still had a half hour until the show started and we had only been there three minutes and all four of us where already sweating beyond belief.
So, we moved to seats away from the lights, where it was still sweltering but at least the lights weren't also blazing on us. Eric went to buy drinks and spend $15 on two bottles of juice and a big cup of lemonade. Then it was $5 for .10 cents worth of popcorn. Then Kieran wanted one of these spinning light up wands and we figured what the heck they seemed kind of neat: $15. Oy. No more spending.
The show started and these unfunny clowns come out for a few seconds, followed by a woman on a big horse who rode around the ring for 5 minutes. Uh-oh. Way to open with a show stopper. Then 5 more horses came out and ran in circles around the ring for another 5-10 minutes. I look at Eric. More uh-oh. We are pouring sweat and the "ringmaster" kept announcing they have "ice cold beverages" for sale. Our ice cold waters were already room temperature.
Next, three Asian girls with some yo-yo type things, another Asian girl who hung from some ribbons from the ceiling for a bit, more Asians balancing teacups on their heads, more Asians spinning parasols with the feet, a "funny photographer" who picked "real people" from the audience to be in his act where they were made to do funny poses in ape costumes, finally an Asian guy spinning Chinese vases on his head. Intermission.
The kids were bored stiff, the acts were not interesting enough for kids and not nearly sophisticated enough for adults. There were periodics wafts of hot air coming up from behind the seats every so often which made Eric think that they were just heating the place up to get people to buy the "ice cold drinks, snow cones, etc", Kaya was starting to roam around the seats causing trouble, Kieran was so hot he was in a stupor. I looked the program we had to buy ($1) which outlined the "acts" and almost none of it matched what we had seen. The next act said there were elephants coming up, but suddenly I doubted that was going to happen. Our babysitter had gone earlier in the week and had mentioned that there were no elephants, so I figured the program was a giant lie. The only part of the program that seemed true was the disclaimer that said "due to the nature of live performances, we reserve the right to alter these acts at any time."
Could we last another hour or so? The intermission "balloon guy" came out and Kieran wanted one (we said no), and I could just see that we were not going to last until the end without some serious money spending just to keep us cool and hydrated and quiet, so we cut our losses and split.
Even in the blazing afternoon heat it was far cooler outside. We went home and filled up the kiddie pool, put the slide in it and the kids had a absolute ball for the rest of day. For free. Take that Shriners.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Back to Reality
Now that the Letter Numbers Meetings are over and I am free (free, FREE!), from the shackles of a government contract, I can only say what a relief it is to have it over and done with.
In one way, I am sad the second meeting...hereafter known on this blog as the G20...will now forever be associated with violence, riots and the violation of human rights. From my point of view, so many people worked really hard to bring that event together only to have its legacy obliterated by a small group of violent idiots who's only goal was create chaos. But I'm not going to blog about that. That part of it, I only saw on the news like everyone else.
However, if you would like, I can wax poetic for hours on leaders exiting airplanes, Obama and his three helicopter fake out (were I a terrorist and had to guess which helicopter he was on, I would have taken out the wrong one) and frakkin' Sarkozy and his giant ego that help up just about every event. I stood mere metres away from all 8 leaders as they stood outside on an astroturf covered golf green for the "family photo" all the while remembering to move vewy, vewy, slowly lest any sniper get over-excited. Or I can talk about how the Russian media stood over the snack table feeding their faces directly over the plates so nobody else could even sneak by and take a cookie.
I fully realize that my story is going to be profoundly different from many serious blogs about G20 arrests and the unlawful detainment of innocent people, but I have something that I want to talk about. Something of infinitely less importance. But, I simply must tell you about the buffet at the media centre at Deerhurst Lodge. I can only assume that the lodge thought that they needed to feed the international news crews a 5-star buffet of three meals, plus snacks, plus afternoon poolside barbecue, plus open bar, as though said media were there to review its restaurant and amenities rather than follow around a rag-tag bunch of heads of state on goofy photo ops and boring press conferences.
I'm talking full breakfasts with personalized omelet bars and a chef at the end of buffet carving slabs of juicy peameal (er, Canadian) bacon and maple syrup made on the premises (as the hostess told me) and it went on from there. Poutine (real cheese curds, homemade gravy) on the poolside terrace, pheasant for dinner, a selection of desserts worthy of the finest pastry chefs.
God, I'm so shallow.
Anyway, back to my buffet-less real life. The fences are coming down and we are just waiting for the concrete girders to be removed. I surely will not miss a life sans 24/7 security (my first night home, I woke up to the sound of Kaya crying and in my semi-awake state was trying to remember where I put my accreditation badge so that the security guard would let me into her room).
I was gone so much over the last two weeks that I feel actually out of touch with the world. I haven't watched any real news, visited any other blogs and only realized a day or two ago that I was several episodes behind on The Bachelorette. (Which I find I don't care about because I actively dislike the woman is The Bachelorette). For the first time since May 29 (when my kids were in our babysitters wedding) I have a free weekend. (Well, free except that we are going to the circus on Saturday). I need to catch up on my sleep, get ahead on my laundry and hopefully do a whole lot of nothing.
In one way, I am sad the second meeting...hereafter known on this blog as the G20...will now forever be associated with violence, riots and the violation of human rights. From my point of view, so many people worked really hard to bring that event together only to have its legacy obliterated by a small group of violent idiots who's only goal was create chaos. But I'm not going to blog about that. That part of it, I only saw on the news like everyone else.
However, if you would like, I can wax poetic for hours on leaders exiting airplanes, Obama and his three helicopter fake out (were I a terrorist and had to guess which helicopter he was on, I would have taken out the wrong one) and frakkin' Sarkozy and his giant ego that help up just about every event. I stood mere metres away from all 8 leaders as they stood outside on an astroturf covered golf green for the "family photo" all the while remembering to move vewy, vewy, slowly lest any sniper get over-excited. Or I can talk about how the Russian media stood over the snack table feeding their faces directly over the plates so nobody else could even sneak by and take a cookie.
I fully realize that my story is going to be profoundly different from many serious blogs about G20 arrests and the unlawful detainment of innocent people, but I have something that I want to talk about. Something of infinitely less importance. But, I simply must tell you about the buffet at the media centre at Deerhurst Lodge. I can only assume that the lodge thought that they needed to feed the international news crews a 5-star buffet of three meals, plus snacks, plus afternoon poolside barbecue, plus open bar, as though said media were there to review its restaurant and amenities rather than follow around a rag-tag bunch of heads of state on goofy photo ops and boring press conferences.
I'm talking full breakfasts with personalized omelet bars and a chef at the end of buffet carving slabs of juicy peameal (er, Canadian) bacon and maple syrup made on the premises (as the hostess told me) and it went on from there. Poutine (real cheese curds, homemade gravy) on the poolside terrace, pheasant for dinner, a selection of desserts worthy of the finest pastry chefs.
God, I'm so shallow.
Anyway, back to my buffet-less real life. The fences are coming down and we are just waiting for the concrete girders to be removed. I surely will not miss a life sans 24/7 security (my first night home, I woke up to the sound of Kaya crying and in my semi-awake state was trying to remember where I put my accreditation badge so that the security guard would let me into her room).
I was gone so much over the last two weeks that I feel actually out of touch with the world. I haven't watched any real news, visited any other blogs and only realized a day or two ago that I was several episodes behind on The Bachelorette. (Which I find I don't care about because I actively dislike the woman is The Bachelorette). For the first time since May 29 (when my kids were in our babysitters wedding) I have a free weekend. (Well, free except that we are going to the circus on Saturday). I need to catch up on my sleep, get ahead on my laundry and hopefully do a whole lot of nothing.
Friday, June 11, 2010
All in a Days Work
Friday night, another week down. Letter-Number Meeting gig is getting closer and closer to being over, which is definitely worth a slug or to of wine in celebration. The event gets more ridiculous by the day. Now that everything is more or less in place, they are dreaming up various "disaster scenarios" and we are tasked to figure out how would we overcome them. For example: What if the International Media Centre is set on fire? The obvious answer..."we go home" is not acceptable. For the government to approve a plan, it needs to be something both pointless and expensive, so we have about 11 layers of backup scenarios. Trust me, barring full on Armageddon (which is possible) this event will happen even if every leader has flown standby on the first jet out of the country.
On another note: I had my first commuter train debacle this week. I started taking the train again when this contract started because the office is right in the heart of downtown. I am enjoying the train and since I have some freedom with my schedule both coming and going, it's really working well for me. I have had zero complaints about the service or the reliability. Never had a single problem (or at least anything that could compare the crap shoot that is driving). Until yesterday. While I was waiting for the train, an announcement came over the loudspeaker saying that due to a "pedestrian incident" at another station, the trains going west were delayed. I, and 99.9 percent of the travellers, were going East, so we all disregarded the message, the eastbound train pulled up and and we left our station right on schedule.
And then two minutes later, we stop. Announcement: "Due to passenger incident at (upcoming) station, all trains are delayed." Thanks GO for not announcing that 3 minutes sooner.
Now, train seats are set up in pods of 4, two seats facing two seats. There are three other women in my pod. Directly across is an older woman in a sparkly blazer. A young east Indian woman sits beside her. Beside me is a power business woman.
We converse, as strangers do, about how long we could be delayed for, who can afford to be late to work, blahblahblah. The East Indian woman has a thick accent and I cannot understand a bloody word she is saying, but yet, for some reason, she keeps directing her conversation to me. I obviously confuse her with a lot of inappropriate nodding, because she starts to look at me strangely and begins directing more of her comments to Sparkly Blazer. I start to fiddle with my Blackberry so she will stop including me in whatever she's on about. We wait and wait.
East Indian woman: "Ahh! Good thing I brought a Reader's Digest. The jokes are very funny." She pulls out a dog-eared copy of RD and says, I kid you not: "Would you like me to read you some jokes?" Luckily, she has directed this question to all of three of us. Sparkly Blazer, I think to be nice, says OK. Power Suit and I both respond by looking down at our Blackberries. I'm sorry, but is way too early for this.
She begins to read aloud from the Readers Digest, and Sparkly Blazer (who is a nice, grandmotherly sort) thankfully, hoots in glee at the jokes, which may or may not be funny. I still can't seem to grasp the woman's accent.
Finally, the train starts to move and we pull into the next stop, which is only one stop from where I got on. It's been about 30 minutes so far. More announcements come on about delays. Finally: "Due to passenger fatality at the (upcoming) station all trains are suspended indefinitely." Ah fatality. Code for suicide jumper. The word fatality sobers the crowd up a bit, seems to make everyone slightly less cranky and more philosophical.
People start getting up and flooding off the train and I'm thinking: "where are you all going? We are in the burbs! Are you all going to catch cabs to work?! Really?" They announce that the city bus will take passengers to the next Go stop, where they can get on a streetcar to go downtown. Sounds like a colossal hassle to me, but both Sparkly Blazer and Power Suit decide to get the bus. I decide that I just do not need to get into the office that badly and am going to work from home. But Eric is at a breakfast meeting so we I can't even get a ride for another 30 minutes or so. So, it's me and the East Indian woman and the Readers Digest. I can understand her better now that the train engines are off, but she is a real chatterbox. I have a feeling that when Eric is finally free to come get me, I'll be giving her a ride somewhere. I start answering emails and doing some work (it is now well after 9) and people are milling around sort of lost, and suddenly, they announce that everyone can get back on the train and we are cleared to go.
Power Suit and Sparkly Blazer do not reappear. Two businessmen sit down instead. East Indian woman is still talking to me and I sense both men fear they are going to be sucked into small talk. The train starts moving and continues to move at a pace only marginally faster than walking. In the end my 2o minute ride took 3 hours.
Oh Jumper.
On another note: I had my first commuter train debacle this week. I started taking the train again when this contract started because the office is right in the heart of downtown. I am enjoying the train and since I have some freedom with my schedule both coming and going, it's really working well for me. I have had zero complaints about the service or the reliability. Never had a single problem (or at least anything that could compare the crap shoot that is driving). Until yesterday. While I was waiting for the train, an announcement came over the loudspeaker saying that due to a "pedestrian incident" at another station, the trains going west were delayed. I, and 99.9 percent of the travellers, were going East, so we all disregarded the message, the eastbound train pulled up and and we left our station right on schedule.
And then two minutes later, we stop. Announcement: "Due to passenger incident at (upcoming) station, all trains are delayed." Thanks GO for not announcing that 3 minutes sooner.
Now, train seats are set up in pods of 4, two seats facing two seats. There are three other women in my pod. Directly across is an older woman in a sparkly blazer. A young east Indian woman sits beside her. Beside me is a power business woman.
We converse, as strangers do, about how long we could be delayed for, who can afford to be late to work, blahblahblah. The East Indian woman has a thick accent and I cannot understand a bloody word she is saying, but yet, for some reason, she keeps directing her conversation to me. I obviously confuse her with a lot of inappropriate nodding, because she starts to look at me strangely and begins directing more of her comments to Sparkly Blazer. I start to fiddle with my Blackberry so she will stop including me in whatever she's on about. We wait and wait.
East Indian woman: "Ahh! Good thing I brought a Reader's Digest. The jokes are very funny." She pulls out a dog-eared copy of RD and says, I kid you not: "Would you like me to read you some jokes?" Luckily, she has directed this question to all of three of us. Sparkly Blazer, I think to be nice, says OK. Power Suit and I both respond by looking down at our Blackberries. I'm sorry, but is way too early for this.
She begins to read aloud from the Readers Digest, and Sparkly Blazer (who is a nice, grandmotherly sort) thankfully, hoots in glee at the jokes, which may or may not be funny. I still can't seem to grasp the woman's accent.
Finally, the train starts to move and we pull into the next stop, which is only one stop from where I got on. It's been about 30 minutes so far. More announcements come on about delays. Finally: "Due to passenger fatality at the (upcoming) station all trains are suspended indefinitely." Ah fatality. Code for suicide jumper. The word fatality sobers the crowd up a bit, seems to make everyone slightly less cranky and more philosophical.
People start getting up and flooding off the train and I'm thinking: "where are you all going? We are in the burbs! Are you all going to catch cabs to work?! Really?" They announce that the city bus will take passengers to the next Go stop, where they can get on a streetcar to go downtown. Sounds like a colossal hassle to me, but both Sparkly Blazer and Power Suit decide to get the bus. I decide that I just do not need to get into the office that badly and am going to work from home. But Eric is at a breakfast meeting so we I can't even get a ride for another 30 minutes or so. So, it's me and the East Indian woman and the Readers Digest. I can understand her better now that the train engines are off, but she is a real chatterbox. I have a feeling that when Eric is finally free to come get me, I'll be giving her a ride somewhere. I start answering emails and doing some work (it is now well after 9) and people are milling around sort of lost, and suddenly, they announce that everyone can get back on the train and we are cleared to go.
Power Suit and Sparkly Blazer do not reappear. Two businessmen sit down instead. East Indian woman is still talking to me and I sense both men fear they are going to be sucked into small talk. The train starts moving and continues to move at a pace only marginally faster than walking. In the end my 2o minute ride took 3 hours.
Oh Jumper.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
And Now We are Four
My son turns 4 today. Officially, I mean. Unofficially, he has been 4 in my mind for several months now. To me, three is still quite babyish whereas 4 is all about independence and responsibility. It’s Goodbye,Diego and Hello, Batman.
Now Kieran has always been a fair amount of work. Up until he turned 3, the absolute last words I would have used to describe him were easygoing or independent (both words which, incidentally, I would wholeheartedly apply to his little sister). But in the last year the change has been dramatic. Thankfully. Truly, as a toddler my son had some terrible qualities – while many children are shy around adults, Kieran went a step further into open hostility. Old ladies who would coo at him in the grocery store were usually met with a glare or a pout or a loud grunt of how-dare-you-address-me-displeasure. Totally embarrassing, totally not cute and very different from the little boy I knew privately. And don’t get me started on waking him up early from naps…the crying and screaming could last for (and I say this without the slightest exaggeration) HOURS.
But things are much better now. Now, if he is excited about an upcoming outing, he is the child who will actually shout at people on the street: “I’m going for ice cream!” or “I’m going the park!” I’ve had to tell him many times that people, especially older kids, are not interested, but he is totally unfazed.
He’s been taking a Sportball class (a pre-school sports program that introduces them to a new sport each week- golf, basketball, tennis etc) for quite awhile now. The indoor section ended and the new outdoor part began and once it moved outside, parents were allowed to watch. Last week, we went to his class and I had Kaya with me. I was busy chasing her around and was totally oblivious to what was happening on the field. At one point another parent said to me “your son is a total athlete!” My immediate and obviously inappropriate response (“My Son?!”) implying that he was obviously confusing my undersized half Asian child with some strapping blond kid who looked remotely like me, but he wasn’t. Yet another surprise! And it was true…even though I think the use of the word “athlete” is a bit dramatic, it was obvious that while most of the other kids were distracted lollygaggers, Kieran was different. He was listening to the instructor and putting in all the effort. Can’t ask for more than that.
He starts school in the fall and he is so ready. He talks about it all the time and is practically brimming with joy at the prospect. I’m hoping he can maintain the momentum he has going. He and his daycare friends will go separate ways and there will be a whole new group of kids to get to know. I feel there will be some hard lessons he has to learn about being different and making friends, but I can only hope that he comes out even stronger on the other end. But, I have a good feeling it will all be OK.
Happy Birthday Kieran!!
Now Kieran has always been a fair amount of work. Up until he turned 3, the absolute last words I would have used to describe him were easygoing or independent (both words which, incidentally, I would wholeheartedly apply to his little sister). But in the last year the change has been dramatic. Thankfully. Truly, as a toddler my son had some terrible qualities – while many children are shy around adults, Kieran went a step further into open hostility. Old ladies who would coo at him in the grocery store were usually met with a glare or a pout or a loud grunt of how-dare-you-address-me-displeasure. Totally embarrassing, totally not cute and very different from the little boy I knew privately. And don’t get me started on waking him up early from naps…the crying and screaming could last for (and I say this without the slightest exaggeration) HOURS.
But things are much better now. Now, if he is excited about an upcoming outing, he is the child who will actually shout at people on the street: “I’m going for ice cream!” or “I’m going the park!” I’ve had to tell him many times that people, especially older kids, are not interested, but he is totally unfazed.
He’s been taking a Sportball class (a pre-school sports program that introduces them to a new sport each week- golf, basketball, tennis etc) for quite awhile now. The indoor section ended and the new outdoor part began and once it moved outside, parents were allowed to watch. Last week, we went to his class and I had Kaya with me. I was busy chasing her around and was totally oblivious to what was happening on the field. At one point another parent said to me “your son is a total athlete!” My immediate and obviously inappropriate response (“My Son?!”) implying that he was obviously confusing my undersized half Asian child with some strapping blond kid who looked remotely like me, but he wasn’t. Yet another surprise! And it was true…even though I think the use of the word “athlete” is a bit dramatic, it was obvious that while most of the other kids were distracted lollygaggers, Kieran was different. He was listening to the instructor and putting in all the effort. Can’t ask for more than that.
He starts school in the fall and he is so ready. He talks about it all the time and is practically brimming with joy at the prospect. I’m hoping he can maintain the momentum he has going. He and his daycare friends will go separate ways and there will be a whole new group of kids to get to know. I feel there will be some hard lessons he has to learn about being different and making friends, but I can only hope that he comes out even stronger on the other end. But, I have a good feeling it will all be OK.
Happy Birthday Kieran!!
Monday, June 7, 2010
I feel like Garfield...but I really do hate Mondays.
I’m not sure I’m awake enough to be updating this, but I’m going to try:
I spent the weekend in Niagara Falls where my husband’s band was playing at the Casino. It was a fantastic weekend, I love the band and would follow them around like a groupie were it not for the fact that I need childcare. Well, and also that apparently staying up until 4 am is not for the weak and soft (which apparently, I am). It’s now Monday and my head is still pounding and I could easily crawl back into bed and nap until tomorrow. But alas, I cannot.
Still working hard (ha!) at the Letter Number Meeting Office. I am happy to report that the security department did not find and flag me as a security risk due to my last update. Still counting the days until this whole thing is OVAH. I’m tired of it all…the meetings, the security, the oddness. The office cleaning staff is not allowed in here on evenings and weekends so they come in during midmorning. A bunch of old ladies with their vacuums trying to clean around all the staff. It’s reminiscent of childhood when your Mom would ram the vacuum into your feet while you were trying to watch cartoons, only this time we are grownups and probably on conference calls. But it’s just as annoying. And we all collectively learned the hard way that one cannot dispose of one’s lunch leftovers in your desk garbage on Friday lest you want to still smell it on Monday morning. Gag.
Of course, this would also be the month that is insanely busy on the personal side. Every single weekend is completely booked…so much so that I am having issues trying to find a day to have Kieran’s 4th Birthday party. I think I have an available date a full two weeks after his birthday has passed, slotted in mere hours before I depart for cottage country and the Letter-Number extravaganza really begins (and hopefully ends...peacefully).
Also, I had another post written in my head last week, and naturally as all blog posts are, it was eloquent and funny in my imagination. Now it is a week later and I'm tired, so my well written post will now be condensed to this one lame-o paragraph about our last -and also crazy - weekend.
Last week the kids were the ring bearer and flower girl at our babysitter’s daughter’s wedding. They were very cute and very good, but, as a parent having your child involved in a wedding where you aren’t involved is both strange and freeing. I didn’t need to go to a single dress or tux fitting. I didn’t have to worry about shoes or hair or photographs. On the morning of the big day, I dropped Kaya off at the house to get ready with the bridal party and didn’t see her until she came down the aisle. However, I did have to get myself and Kieran ready (Eric, of course, was out of town), which meant 10 minutes of trying to cram his feet into his shoes – I resorted to using a spatula as a shoehorn - followed by not being able to FIND my own shoes, getting caught in crazy traffic and then arriving with him five minutes before the ceremony began (and 25 minutes after I was asked to have him there). So, even though I barely had anything to do I still almost managed to screw it up.
Anyway, I should get to work. I think my headache has subsided enough to allow me to actually get work done. And I hear the vacuums coming this way….
I spent the weekend in Niagara Falls where my husband’s band was playing at the Casino. It was a fantastic weekend, I love the band and would follow them around like a groupie were it not for the fact that I need childcare. Well, and also that apparently staying up until 4 am is not for the weak and soft (which apparently, I am). It’s now Monday and my head is still pounding and I could easily crawl back into bed and nap until tomorrow. But alas, I cannot.
Still working hard (ha!) at the Letter Number Meeting Office. I am happy to report that the security department did not find and flag me as a security risk due to my last update. Still counting the days until this whole thing is OVAH. I’m tired of it all…the meetings, the security, the oddness. The office cleaning staff is not allowed in here on evenings and weekends so they come in during midmorning. A bunch of old ladies with their vacuums trying to clean around all the staff. It’s reminiscent of childhood when your Mom would ram the vacuum into your feet while you were trying to watch cartoons, only this time we are grownups and probably on conference calls. But it’s just as annoying. And we all collectively learned the hard way that one cannot dispose of one’s lunch leftovers in your desk garbage on Friday lest you want to still smell it on Monday morning. Gag.
Of course, this would also be the month that is insanely busy on the personal side. Every single weekend is completely booked…so much so that I am having issues trying to find a day to have Kieran’s 4th Birthday party. I think I have an available date a full two weeks after his birthday has passed, slotted in mere hours before I depart for cottage country and the Letter-Number extravaganza really begins (and hopefully ends...peacefully).
Also, I had another post written in my head last week, and naturally as all blog posts are, it was eloquent and funny in my imagination. Now it is a week later and I'm tired, so my well written post will now be condensed to this one lame-o paragraph about our last -and also crazy - weekend.
Last week the kids were the ring bearer and flower girl at our babysitter’s daughter’s wedding. They were very cute and very good, but, as a parent having your child involved in a wedding where you aren’t involved is both strange and freeing. I didn’t need to go to a single dress or tux fitting. I didn’t have to worry about shoes or hair or photographs. On the morning of the big day, I dropped Kaya off at the house to get ready with the bridal party and didn’t see her until she came down the aisle. However, I did have to get myself and Kieran ready (Eric, of course, was out of town), which meant 10 minutes of trying to cram his feet into his shoes – I resorted to using a spatula as a shoehorn - followed by not being able to FIND my own shoes, getting caught in crazy traffic and then arriving with him five minutes before the ceremony began (and 25 minutes after I was asked to have him there). So, even though I barely had anything to do I still almost managed to screw it up.
Anyway, I should get to work. I think my headache has subsided enough to allow me to actually get work done. And I hear the vacuums coming this way….
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Letters and Numbers
Wow...I last updated in February.
Well, I guess that would mean this blog is/was officially 'on hiatus" and that if I'm thinking anyone would still be reading this I'm nuts. But I hold out hope that someone somewhere will Google "crazybabyTylenoldrivewaymonkey" and wind up here. (Although i guess now they will for sure).
Anyway, I have so much whining to do! I'm so far behind in my pointless ranting, I'm not sure where to begin.
But here is a good place to start: God, this laptop is beyond annoying. The cursor will randomly scoot all over place whilst I am typing. I often wind up suddenly typing back in the middle of a sentence 3 paragraphs prior for no discernible reason, which means there is an excellent chance you are reading typos that I missed or am just to damned irritated to fix. My apologies, I am indeed a poor workwoman blaming her tools.
Next, I've been working for the past month from a different office than usual. I'm on loan from my regular job and for a few months am working on a huge international political event that, apparently, cannot be named on the internet. Well, I could say what it is, but there is an entire security group here who spend their days plugging the name of this event into search engines to track every single mention of it on the web. I know this for a fact because not too long ago somebody who posted something like "I can't wait for this (event that cannot be named) to be over" on Twitter got hauled into some top floor offices and roundly chastised. So, for my purposes here let me call this event the Letter-Number Meeting. (Ha! take that security goons!).
However, I will say this..I totally agree with my Twittering co-worker. (I like him even though he Twitters.)I think I speak for all Letter-Number employees when I say that none of us can wait for this to be over.
The worst thing about working here at Letter-Number is the amount of meetings. These people think that nothing can ever be accomplished without a meeting. A long one. Preferably one where people are joining in via video conference and where agendas are passed out that include a "lunch break - user pay" and a couple of "health breaks"(which is ironic since many people use it to smoke). I don't know what they think they accomplish at their huge meetings because it's clearly next to nothing. Mostly, everyone fiddles with their Blackberries (which has replaced pen-doodling of years past) while one by one, we are expected to speak about the status of our particular task. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the people who are working on broadcast don't care about carpet colours and the people working on signage don't care about warehouse load-in but there we all are. Attendance mandatory.
Anyway, enough about Letter-Number for now. I'm sure it will be a rousing success and we as host country will bask in many international accolades. There. Now they can fire me.
Well, I guess that would mean this blog is/was officially 'on hiatus" and that if I'm thinking anyone would still be reading this I'm nuts. But I hold out hope that someone somewhere will Google "crazybabyTylenoldrivewaymonkey" and wind up here. (Although i guess now they will for sure).
Anyway, I have so much whining to do! I'm so far behind in my pointless ranting, I'm not sure where to begin.
But here is a good place to start: God, this laptop is beyond annoying. The cursor will randomly scoot all over place whilst I am typing. I often wind up suddenly typing back in the middle of a sentence 3 paragraphs prior for no discernible reason, which means there is an excellent chance you are reading typos that I missed or am just to damned irritated to fix. My apologies, I am indeed a poor workwoman blaming her tools.
Next, I've been working for the past month from a different office than usual. I'm on loan from my regular job and for a few months am working on a huge international political event that, apparently, cannot be named on the internet. Well, I could say what it is, but there is an entire security group here who spend their days plugging the name of this event into search engines to track every single mention of it on the web. I know this for a fact because not too long ago somebody who posted something like "I can't wait for this (event that cannot be named) to be over" on Twitter got hauled into some top floor offices and roundly chastised. So, for my purposes here let me call this event the Letter-Number Meeting. (Ha! take that security goons!).
However, I will say this..I totally agree with my Twittering co-worker. (I like him even though he Twitters.)I think I speak for all Letter-Number employees when I say that none of us can wait for this to be over.
The worst thing about working here at Letter-Number is the amount of meetings. These people think that nothing can ever be accomplished without a meeting. A long one. Preferably one where people are joining in via video conference and where agendas are passed out that include a "lunch break - user pay" and a couple of "health breaks"(which is ironic since many people use it to smoke). I don't know what they think they accomplish at their huge meetings because it's clearly next to nothing. Mostly, everyone fiddles with their Blackberries (which has replaced pen-doodling of years past) while one by one, we are expected to speak about the status of our particular task. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the people who are working on broadcast don't care about carpet colours and the people working on signage don't care about warehouse load-in but there we all are. Attendance mandatory.
Anyway, enough about Letter-Number for now. I'm sure it will be a rousing success and we as host country will bask in many international accolades. There. Now they can fire me.
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