Just A Few Gray Hairs

What are the things that scare you?

Me?  I can't stand watching my kids ride bikes.  I love riding.  It's been a few decades, but I've always enjoyed it.  But watching my own children???  OH HELL NO!

I was useless trying to teach them how to ride.  I was a paranoid mess and their dad had to step up and take over. 


All three are proficient riders despite my paranoia, not that I can really attest to it not having witnessed much riding.  As you can imagine, there aren't many pictures.  This one was taken as part of my nature walk a few days ago.  It abruptly ended when he started the no hands stuff.

Easter Wrestling Match

We had a splendid day, celebrating Easter this afternoon.  The kids dashed out the back door for an egg hunt then we settled down for grilled hot dogs, real holiday food, no?  Then a few Wii games of tennis and bowling - I suck by the way.  A few rounds of Scattergories - Garlic, unfortunately, does not qualify for seasonings that start with J. 

Keith, the usual wrestling instigator, had to leave for work, leaving Amanda and Ian to fill the void. 

He thought he could pick her up

Easter Is Still In The Works

It's turning out that holidays are multi-day events in my world.  Celebrate here on the day of, celebrate there yet another day... or actually the other way around.  Or something like that.

The kids have had their Easter with their dad and his family this weekend and I will be doing festivities next Sunday.  We could have pulled everyone together last night but they would have had to leave another celebration early, and really, I'm not doing anything big, so no reason to make everyone scramble, right?

In reality I've been seriously scarred by the logistical nightmare of five Christmases in 36 hours.  Several years in a row.  With very small children.  And all of the accompanying accoutrements necessary for any journey away from home over 30 minutes with very small children.  And then lugging home all of the crap adoring grandparents gift to the spoiled brats.

I just won't be part of that equation for my own children.  I want my time with them to be fun and light hearted and drama-free.  Nobody should feel forced to choke down another meal after feasting just hours before somewhere else.  Nor should they rush through this meal so they can flee to yet another.  How maddening!  How UNfun!  Where are the happy memories in all of that?

Some of my most stress-free holidays with my kids were Easter with my ex's mom.  With scheduling conflicts of two nurses in the family, trying to get all of the grandchildren together at the same time never happened ON Easter.  She wanted all of the kids, even the big ones, under the roof at one time.  She and the dearly departed "Bob-Bob" would get a ham, all of the side fixings, set up a beautiful buffet and open the house for the kids.  People were everywhere.  After we ate off plates perched on our laps we would gather in the yard and all of the kids under 18, including tag alongs not related to the bunch, were given a bag with their initials.

In the yard were a specific number of plastic eggs with coordinating initials.  Adults had to help the littlest kids find their booty and then we retired to the livingroom to open the eggs.  It was fun and easy and no demands, other than "show up."

Like I said, Easter never happened ON Easter.  One year it was celebrated in the front yard IN AUGUST!  Yes.  August.  An egg hunt.  And we totally ignored the passing cars, drivers staring at us.  Because it was fun.

Holidays should be fun.  And memorable.  They aren't about the day, but the togetherness.  And that, folks, is my focus.

Happy Easter

Up For The Hunt

Posing With The Bunny

Either I'm a bad mother or I haven't scanned all of my photographs because I cannot find one of Ian with the Easter Bunny.  Actually I only have these three so maybe there are others in the photo box.

Dying The Eggs

For those of you plodding along with little kids who need your help every step of the way, here is the light at the end of the tunnel.  One day your children will be able to read the directions on the Pas box and make their own egg dye.  They will be able to command the entire kitchen, leaving you to man the camera (and three eggs for you to color - hello, I never grew up).  

This was four years ago and the last picture is totally worth a post on PhotoBomb, don't you think?

An All Star!

This was Ian's third year playing floor hockey.  I'm really happy he took to this sport, he has grown so much as a result of it. 

His first year he thoroughly sucked and unfortunately his coach didn't do much teaching - most of the other kids had been playing for several years and were seasoned players not needing much instruction.  Last year he went into the draft and landed on a different team with a coach totally dedicated to teaching the game and what a difference.  Ian scored the "Most Improved" award.  That pumped him up to stay with the sport and his confidence sky rocketed.  Since most of the kids on this team were younger than him, Ian moved up to the next division and was recommended to join yet a different team.  Again, he's landed a coach dedicated to teaching and inspiring and having fun.  He moves the kids around to different positions.  He also selected the newest members to be on the All Star team, including Ian!

Since this team was the youngest of the division they were SMEARED, losing every game.  That said, these kids LOVE  playing that losing really didn't matter.  They played hard all the way up to the final buzzer. 

Sewing With Kids

All three of my kids have had at least a few rounds with my sewing machine.  They have all attempted a thread and needle and I even taught them the basics of embroidery.  The bottom line is kids are interested in what you're doing, they want to learn.  Granted playing with mom in the sewing room didn't spark any talent, but they aren't foreigners to it either.  Dabbling side by side with my own mother was enough that when quilting fever struck me I wasn't intimidated to sit down at the sewing machine.  I'm still not a great seamstress, but I found a hobby I enjoy.

Ian wanted his own quilt.  He accompanied me to the fabric store (I find it odd that all three are EXCITED when I announce I'm going to the fabric store and BEG to tag along.  They want to voice their opinions on my fabric selections and meander through the other craft projects offered in the store.)  So Ian picked out his colors - red, black and orange.  Then he spotted a dark blue fabric with Chinese writing.  He.had.to.have.it.

When we got home I showed him how to measure out and cut 4" squares and then to stitch them together.  The squares were wonky and the seams wildly uneven.  He lost interest about half way through, frustrated with the unevenness of the project.  He tossed it up as a failed project and sulked off.  I ripped apart only one or two sets and then finished it up for him.  Yeah, I should have let him finish it but the despair was too great.  He was certain this was a failure, I wanted to prove him wrong.

For the backing I selected sweatshirt material someone had given me several years ago.  I didn't use any batting as the jersey fabric was sufficient.

He has finally outgrown the quilt as far as length, but it still gets pulled out for his bedding and he tries pretty hard to curl up under it.  While I may have finished the project, this is his, he made it.

Rare Moments

Siblings fight.  If they don't then I need to know what you're putting in their Koolaid, because everyone I know has had a showdown or twenty thousand with their sibs.  So when you catch them being nice to each other, cooperating, you either need to worry because they're up to something or grab a camera because it's not going to last very long.

This lasted about ten minutes before one taunted the other and honestly I don't know who started it and if I speculate here I'll be accused of favoritism toward the other.  Sometimes the only answer is to close the door, walk away and let them fend for themselves.