I’m going through my original blog to pick out some of my favourites. Here’s one of my favourites with Second Born Son. Enjoy!
http://thebowerygirl.blogspot.ca/2009/07/recent-conversation-with-second-born.html
Author: Sarah
Floor Flashback
Have you ever heard a story from your childhood and didn’t know if you remembered it because you lived it, or because you’ve been told it so many times?
One of those stories, to a lesser degree, was the story of Rene and the foster-brother who came to live with us for a couple of months.
Gingham was TOTALLY what all the cool kids were wearing – and Rene didn’t mind my bowl bangs….
You can read more about my childhood pups here.
My memories collided recently, as I was playing with Roman and Cane after dinner in the kitchen. The dogs always hang out in the kitchen with us while we eat. While we don’t engage them while we are eating, on this evening, I decided to play with them after. I’m the Alpha Dog, so I don’t often “play” with the pups, but I had a random thought.
“Do you want to see me freak them out?” I asked The Big Guy and the boys. I laid down on the floor, looking to see what they would think of me doing something they had never seen me do.
Cane immediately came over and sniffed me from head to two, probably trying to ascertain that this was, indeed, “Mom”. I start to laugh and cover my face to save myself from a thorough bathing. Within seconds Roman is over my head, his paws on either side of my head by my shoulders and he starts growling and snapping at Cane. I know this because I can sense his presence RIGHT. ABOVE. ME.
Instantly, I’ve left my kitchen. I’m laying on the grass along the lane way at the farm I grew up on. My mind is playing tricks on me because I actually FEEL small, and I have a dog above me. It’s Rene and he’s snapping and snarling and I’m covering my face. I can hear my foster-brother crying out because he’s afraid, but Rene never touches him.
The two events are so parallel, it’s unnerving. I sit up, back in my kitchen in my 42-year-old body and realize what has happened. It’s one thing to hear a recollection, it’s quite another to remember it yourself. In an instant 35 years passed and I was able to remember exactly how I felt at that precise moment.
I calmed Roman and let him see that I was okay, which was the main concern for him. He has never seen me lay down in the house (and only on rare occasions outside), and this is the first time we’ve seen him be so protective of us. The Big Guy was never in danger, neither were the boys. Roman was simply covering me and ensuring Cane didn’t go too far.
It’s a very reassuring feeling to know that today, as when I was a child, I have someone who will protect me, even when I may not be able to protect myself.
My very own super hero!
A Sense of Occasion
Pride, as a parent, is as thrilling an emotion as it gets. You see your child accomplishing something; be recognized for something; have others see him or her as the outstanding individual you believe them to be; for them to see it in themselves.
When Second Born Son told us his artwork for his school’s Royal Canadian Legion Remembrance Day Contest was selected for an award, we were thrilled. I think he was pleased because not too many boys have been recognized, so he was “representin”!
This morning, he asked what he should wear. I asked him how he’d like to dress.
“Probably something nice?” he said.
“Sure!” I replied, knowing he is not a fan of the shirt and tie.
“Like a button shirt?” he clarified. I nodded.
“Maybe a tie?” I venture.
He nods, not pleased, but not completely against the idea.
As we head out the door, he’s grabbed his dress shoes, without prompting. He has on a good coat, without me reminding him. As we enter the Legion, he is greeted by the Legion member, an elderly man, who works in the schools. He recognizes SBS and comments on his appearance. As do other Legion members. He’s the only student with a tie on. Actually, he’s the only student who’s not wearing jeans. That’s not the point, and we’ve told both boys that. You don’t judge someone who isn’t wearing what you’re wearing. You don’t know if their wardrobe is a choice or not. For us, we like to dress for the occasion.
So as proud as I was that he was recognized for his artistic talent, I was equally pleased that he showed an institution like the Legion the respect it deserved.
Way to go Bud!
No! Wait! You’re at the right place!
Before you switch back to Facebook, you have got The Bowery Girl. I’m toying with a new look for 2014 and I think this may be it!
Until I’m decided, feel free to love it or loathe it in the Comments!
Photographic Evidence of NYE 2014
So. 2014 huh? New Year’s Eve. Once again, I had to work, so I didn’t get to do too much “celebrating”. Actually, it was downright boring for me.
For my guys, not so much.
It started with First Born Son. Just as we were about to sit down to an early movie night, a trio of his friends dropped by and dragged him out to his first New Year’s Eve get together. Nothing rowdy, busy or crazy. Just four friends hanging out and making memories. This left The Big Guy and Second Born Son, who had already made a pact to relive their Third Annual All-Nighter. I was planning on being in the nest by 9 p.m.
So after viewing Red 2 (SPOILER ALERT – NOT AS GOOD AS THE FIRST ONE) I called it a night. 4 a.m. comes rather early! I drifted off to the sounds of my hubby and son tearing into a brand new Lego set. While I did wake up around midnight, I had no idea what had transpired over the course of the evening, until I got to work the next morning and checked my phone…
Okay, a little blurry…
Followed by…
Okay, THAT’S a little too cheeky!
Followed by…
Someone didn’t get the memo that “Selfie” was SOOO last year!
Followed by…
What. The. Hell?
Now it’s obvious that there is a genetic link between these two, but in case you were doubtful…
Who is taking these photos?? Cane? Roman??
There is a definite connection here. Genetically as well as a common maturity level.
Thankfully, adult supervision soon arrived.
Proof that he made it past midnight!
Even if he wasn’t long out of the nest himself!
Bleepy. Very bleepy!
Honestly, these photos look like they have a soft focus filter on them. If I didn’t know better, I’d say alcohol was involved!!!!
Uh oh!!!
So while I didn’t get a chance to experience a New Year’s Eve with my guys, they made sure I didn’t miss out on the fun.
Now to activate a password on my phone!!!!
Real or Fake: AKA Getting into the Spirit of Christmas
Real or artificial?
It’s a debate for the ages. Some suggest full and natural, the way God created them, is the best. Others think there is nothing wrong with the artificial version, and that sometimes perfection is attained through a manufacturer, not necessarily nature. This is especially true when you are particular on size, shape, uniformity.
You know we’re talking about Christmas Trees here, right?
This year I decided I’d really like a real tree. And then I furthered the concept by deciding I’d like to get one from Mom and Dad’s property. Dad was thrilled. Mom objected. Especially when I asked for one of these…..
So, I relented. After all, I didn’t want to look greedy. Dad was keen to help us out, and scouted a couple of locations. The problem was, everybody had an opinion about what kind of tree we should have. We struck out with the big truck, and headed back the lane way. After a brief search, the guys decided they found “The One”.
Ah. No.
So, we kept walking, and walking.
Then they found this one…
Really?
Still walking. Getting cold now people!
Then we came across this one.
Now we’re talking turkey! We all agreed, this was our tree. The Big Guy got the cutting started with the handsaw, and Second Born Son quickly took over.
He cut,
and cut,
and cut. Finally, we thought we heard something!
I didn’t think it was serious, after all, my father is howling with laughter. But it looked like assistance may have been required!
More than just a little ham was being served here, folks.
So after First Born Son took off to locate the truck, the rest of us debated the best route to get the tree out of the forest.
Why, yes, that is a water gun. Why is my father holding a water gun? Because he’s carrying it back to the house for SBS. Why do we have a water gun? Because we are looking for a Christmas tree…Do I have to explain EVERYTHING???
Finally, we are making tracks.
We load up the tree and take it home. Where, suddenly, something becomes apparent….
Yes, that’s the tree, upright, outside the house. Adjacent to the sliding glass doors. No photoshopping here, Jack. That tree is THAT TALL. Hmmmm. Wisely, The Big Guy decided to wait until I was at work to bring the tree in the house. We knew the tree would need a little trimming. The top was very spindly, so we figured nipping that off would solve the problem. What I missed was A LOT of trimming. A LOT of sap and, my favourite, a middle of the kitchen stump docking. Yes, A SAW IN MY KITCHEN.
Thankfully, when I came home, all I saw was this…
Let’s pause for a moment and note the amount of clearance between the top of my tree and my HAND PLASTERED CEILING!!! We opted for denial and started decorating.
Again, I’m going to draw your attention to the TOP OF MY TREE!!!
Finally, after covering ourselves in sap, spruce needles and glitter, we had ourselves a Christmas Tree! We had one last thing to do…
Folks, if my angel were to sneeze, she’d be wiping sap off her nose. The Big Guy crammed her on so hard, she might have to go out with the tree.
With my tree lit and angel violated installed, it finally felt like Christmas had arrived!
From our house to yours, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
Christmas Spirit?
I love Christmas.
I really should say, I love everything about Christmas, except the people who gripe and chew about how stressful Christmas is. Several times over the past few weeks, I’ve heard or been part of conversations where people are frustrated at how much they have to do, how commercial Christmas is, how people have lost the “real meaning” of Christmas.
And I want to grab them by the shoulders and yell YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF – YOU ARE THE PROBLEM! You see, Christmas isn’t like Thanksgiving, where it floats around the “second week of the full moon yada yada yada”. Its always the 25th of December. It is always the second last week of the year! It never pops ups on the 10th or moves back to the 28th. So what’s the problem?
Is it the gift giving? I enjoy gift shopping, NOT because I love throngs of people, but because I truly love thinking of my family and loved ones. THAT’s what gift shopping is: thinking of your husband, mother, father, kids, nieces, nephew (you get the picture) and think about what THEY want, what THEY will enjoy opening on Christmas morning and how your present will make THEM feel. I bought my first gift this year in September for a certain nephew AND I AM SO STOKE ABOUT IT I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO TELL YOU!! It makes me smile every time I think about it. I’ve been told I do well in the gift-giving department, and I think that is due to the fact that I really enjoy putting that excitement into each gift. The funny thing is, when I’m thinking of someone else, there’s no pressure!
Is it the decorating? Because you know, HALLOWEEN is second only to Christmas for retail sales and I don’t hear anyone moaning and groaning about how much work it is to put up their five inflatables, install their graveyard and hang a oversized spider off of the hand-crafted rope web off the third story of their house. Just saying’…
What about the baking? Well I love making food, so that’s not a huge issue for me, but there have been years when I’ve worked through the holidays and had to host a meal as well. As you know, I live in the sticks, but I still found a place that would cater Christmas dinner and it was AWESOME! Why turn yourself into a zombie for one meal when you can spend roughly the same amount of cash and let the praise fall all over you for being a resourceful AND brilliant hostess for having such an amazing meal.
Is it the Christmas cards? Very few people send cards anymore. Over the past 20 years I’ve watched my list get shorter and shorter as I reduce the number of people I send them to. After the season I go through the cards and check off those who send them to us. If you miss three years, you are a GONER my friend. I understand some people think its dated, but I can tell you, for some, it’s the only way we hear from them and it would be very sad to lose that contact.
Is it the running around seeing family? I know some people who have to split the day (and Boxing Day) several different ways. This is more about your family than about your frustration with the holiday. I’m going to guess that the people who demand you see them on the 25th are the same people who are picky and demanding the rest of the year too! Don’t blame Christmas.
The way I look at it is this, I know people who weren’t supposed to be around for this Christmas. I know people who are going through some really tough times. I know some people who aren’t here for Christmas, and their families really wish they were. Christmas is how we mark the passage of time. We need to have that celebration of life, faith and hope to sustain us. We need to be able to look forward to the New Year, whether its because the one we are in completely tanked, or because we have so much to look forward to.
I refuse to make Christmas the whipping boy of my day to day frustrations. Yes, it is more work – but doing a Christmas task with someone can be twice the fun. Yes, you can spend (a lot) more money – but you don’t have to. Some of the best gifts I’ve been given were not overly expensive.
What it comes down to is this, you get out of it what you put into it. You cannot spend weeks complaining about a religious holiday about peace and love and then wonder why you have no Christmas Cheer.
And if this post doesn’t help you out of your doldrums, I highly recommend popping in Christmas Vacation. Sounds like you need a laugh.
You are welcome.
Letters That Need To Be Written V
Dear Judge Jean Boyd,
Your Honor, with all due respect of your station as Juvenile Court Judge of Burleson, (near Fort Worth, Texas), are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?
You had an opportunity to send a message to a clearly overly indulged young man; one who has obviously had every opportunity given to him by his misguided, yet financially comfortable parents. You could have given a sense of closure to the families of four people who tragically lost their lives when this youth, who was practically pickled with three times the legal limit of alcohol in his body, mowed them down on the side of the road with his pickup truck. You could have given some sense of justice to the two other victims, “friends” of this youth, who were in the box of the pickup, one of whom is unable to speak or move thanks to the traumatic brain injury sustained in this preventable, AVOIDABLE, motor vehicle collision.
But instead, you created a victim. The accused himself! How he must have suffered being the son of parents who never gave him boundaries! How horrible for him to have gone years with his every whim catered to! We will never know his agony! Thanks to you Judge, we now have a new trendy condition “affluenza”. WTH? I can guarantee you, no one in my home will come down with this quasi-condition.
Way to reward the guilty! And his sad excuse for parents! Junior gets 10 years of probation, starting with a rehab program (I’ve never been to a resort that is as nice as this rehab facility people! Check out the Newport Academy here. BTW it’s putting his daddy back $450,000 a year.) and keeping him away from his parents for at least two years. Whew! What a relief for them! They can continue NOT PARENTING him just has they have been for the past 16 years! At least they won’t have the burden of dragging him around down like a walking, breathing scarlet A on their chest. They can continue ignoring their role in this travesty.
I’m sure you will be getting Christmas cards from other affluent families, whose spoiled brats are looking for loop holes in the justice system. You just set a precedent with a big enough loop-hole to drive a big ol’ Texas-sized pickup through.
Once again, the self-proclaimed “Land of The Free and Home of the Brave” (Land of the Spoiled and Home of the Self Indulged?) is getting it wrong, because even though this sentencing is a farce, the possibility is slim that the sentence can be appealed, because of the finding of guilt and a sentence being handed down. I guess US lawmakers didn’t allow for “not enough” sentencing. The prosecution asked for 25 years in jail, so with the exchange on the dollar, four, eight, carry the one….yup you are looking at 10 years probation.
My heart goes out to the families of the true victims; a young woman with a broken down vehicle, who was being assisted by a youth pastor and a middle-aged woman along with her teenaged daughter – all providing help, trying to do a good deed.
I hope their memories haunt this young man and his family.
And the judge with her misguided sense of “Justice.”
Baby – Teenager
These eyes tell it all.
You were meant to come into our family and bring your own brand of humour, love and caring. For that, I will be forever grateful.
Second Born Son, like his brother, arrived fashionably late. He was supposed to be a November baby, but held on (almost literally) until December 3, 2000. Two trips to the hospital an hour away. Twelve hours of labor YOU LITTLE BUM – but totally worth it for the dimples alone!
Now this little man was born at 5:55 a.m. and he’s been a night owl ever since. (Save for the times around 24 months when he would put himself to bed if we had company over! Boyfriend needed his beauty sleep!) He was the happiest of babies until he was PISSED. OFF. Then you needed to be jumpin’, people. You need to be jumpin’. My husband’s family is known for its blond, strawberry blonde and downright redheads. They didn’t know quite what to do with a black-haired baby. He loved the dog, and adored his brother. I need to find a way to download video of him laughing his tush off at his brother because the laughter is from another soul. SBS IS laughter.
Because we had a son already, many people thought we were hoping for a girl. We didn’t care. What was meant to be would be. We were meant to have this baby. And with his arrival, we knew we were a full family. So while his brother made me a Mommy, this little guy…
…made our family.
Love you Tootie! Happy 13th Birthday!!!! xo
Raising Rob Ford
So, the Rob Ford Soap Opera has given me quite a pain. Right over here. No back a little bit more…
Between horrific videos, more horrific press conferences and enough drama to keep a spin doctor employed through to the end of his term as Mayor Toronto, it’s truly a train wreck and we are helpless to stop it, or look away.
Here we have an adult male who is having, in effect, a toddler temper tantrum on the world stage. I find myself over and over again trying to explain this man’s actions to my sons, who frequently reply with, “But didn’t he learn not to do that when he was a kid?” or “Didn’t his parents teach him that?” They have come to a logical conclusion here. This man needs some discipline; perhaps some parenting is in order?
You think I’m over simplifying? Let’s break it down. I’m pretty sure we’ve all been told these gems once or twice.
1. Lying Only Makes It Worse.
Let’s start at the beginning. When this all started, it was about a grainy cell phone photo where Rob Ford was doing his best Whitney Houston impression. And while he didn’t come out with Crack Is Whack, he did come out with a big denial. Had he come forward with an acknowledgement of the incident and some humility (I know, it’s not humanly possible for this man), he could have slipped off quietly for some rehab, stayed in office and people would have given him the second chance he seems hellbent on. However, LYING about the video’s existence started the entire saga on bad footing. We look back now and say, “Well, if he lied about that, what else is he lying about?” Let’s remember, this man has already been temporarily suspended from office, and disciplined for using public transit for his personal use – the transportation of his football team. Prejudice exists, I’m afraid, based on previous behavior.
2. Don’t Lie To Your Mother.
Momma Ford and sister Kathy took to CP24 to defend Rob’s “honor” (?!) and say that he has been truthful to them, that he doesn’t have an addiction problem, and that they support him 100%. Either the Ford ladies are Oscar-calibre actors, or they have tickets on a cruise down De Nial as a half-wit monkey can see what the Ford family truly is; a bunch of enablers. I’m sure Big Brother Doug Ford was thrilled to look like a moron on Rob’s behalf; DEMANDING the resignation of the Chief of Police on the grounds of trumping up allegations, less than five hours before his brother would have a media conference where he would admit to smoking crack. Ouch!
3. Watch Your Mouth. (aka – You Kiss Your Momma With That Mouth?)
Right now my eldest son is 16 years old. He swears. If you read this blog with any frequency, you know I do too. The Big Guy can let it fly with the best of them. Second Born Son is keeping it clean, but I fully expect him to melt down at some point and “expand his vocabulary”. I don’t say this with pride, I say this to be relative. Most (not all) people have sworn at some point. Most people (not all) know when it is appropriate and with what audience. My 16-year-old hormone-laden son knows that if he were to come out with some of the crap flowing out of Rob Ford’s mouth (in private, never mind in public), he’d have his jaw wired shut. Ever since the boys were small, we discussed what kind of words were “appropriate” since media, friends, and some family, don’t have the same frame of reference, and we didn’t want our five-year-old coming out with a big “What the HELL?” just before Easter Dinner. We started with negative words like “idiot”, “hate” and “stupid”. Stupid is still as big a swear word as “asshole” in our house and will get you promptly relocated to your room with a lecture to follow. Common civility dictates some words are simply not appropriate, especially the mouth they come from is four inches above the Chain of Office.
4. Be a Gentleman/Lady.
This may seem self-evident, but what this means is, be polite to others. Hold yourself in certain regard, and you’ll be surprised in how others treat you. If you act like a common street thug, be prepared to be viewed that way. Strive for more. This means refraining from making lewd comments about oral sex with former staffers, and even more so, don’t make that first statement seem less offense by making a followup remark that is just as visual about YOUR. WIFE.
5. You are Judged by the Company You Keep.
Remember the first time your parents had to tell you to watch the company you kept? Remember how confusing that was to figure out? eventually, though, we did. We understood that be associating with people who broke rules, were disrespectful, caused trouble, were in trouble, were looking for trouble, were often…trouble? Ya, Rob wasn’t listening that day.
6. Say “Sorry” Like You Mean It.
When we were kids, saying sorry was like getting a band-aid. It solved the problem immediately. As we mature and the Sorry we need to say is for bigger issues than, say, slamming the door, we understand that Sorry isn’t a band-aid anymore. It’s an acknowledgement of our error and it’s impact on another person. One of my biggest pet peeves is someone using the word Sorry with no meaning behind it. At first Rob Ford refused to say he was Sorry. Within days, he was saying Sorry so much, it began to lose its impact. He quickly moved on to say that he’s said Sorry so many times, he doesn’t know what else to say. And that, my friends, is the problem. There is nothing else to say.
7. You Always Get Caught.
Wasn’t it freaky how our Moms knew stuff? How did they know??? Did they really have eyes in the back of their heads? Was there a Secret Mom Society?? Any time we do something wrong, bad, hurtful and try to cover it up, it always comes back to bite us. If we didn’t learn this when we were four sneaking cookies, then perhaps we have to learn it in our mid 40s, with low-grade cell-phone video to rat us out. (FYI – There totally is a Secret Mom Society – in case my kids are reading this…)
8. You Call These People Your Friends?
Not to be confused with #5, this point is for all the people who are lining up to say they support Rob Ford and that this media circus is nothing more than a witch hunt. If you are truly part of Ford Nation, and want to see this man re-elected for another term, you will show support in him stepping aside temporarily. Because if nothing else is evident, it is this; Rob Ford has issues, demons if you will, that need to be addressed now. His passionate refusal to leave the role of Mayor is not only an issue for the City and the Province, but most importantly, is jeopardizing his well-being and his role as a father and husband. Choose your priorities wisely. Voters love a Come-Back story. Be the new and improved Rob Ford. Everyone deserves a second chance, but its hard to rally from a body bag.
Let’s hope someone, whose opinion matters to Rob Ford, can step in and give him the sage advice he needs.
Starting with a Time Out.
The Bowery Girl 