First Born Son

Time Warp!

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

The most remarkable thing has happened!

This wee lad…

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woke this morning looking like this!!!

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It’s hard to believe that Second Born Son turns 14 tomorrow. The same kid who required two hour-long trips to the hospital in order to get into this world, is now in high school! It seems like yesterday that we took him to speech therapy! Yes – don’t get me started on the fact that I devoted hours to helping get this kid to talk. I’m painfully aware every time he starts discussing his latest video console obsession!

SBS is such a wonderful combination of light and fun. He hates it when animals or the elderly are endangered. He could care less about what other people think of him. For example, he’s not fazed by an unusual coat or jeans he’s grown out of; after all, he’s comfortable!

Our son has impeccable comedic timing, so it’s no surprise that he’s joined the Improv Club at school. He’s always been a fish around water…
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and has now earned Bronze Medallion with his eye set on the Bronze Cross in the spring!

His artistic ability is amazing!

Original on left, SBS's rendition on the right…crazy, right?

Original on left, SBS’s rendition on the right…crazy, right?

Artist at work!

Artist at work!

He’s a good friend, a great brother and a wonderful son!

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I cannot imagine our lives without him!

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Happy Birthday Sweetie!

Winter/Jobs/Exam Stress/Seniors – yes, it all makes sense….

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

Nothing like two jobs hitting me at the same time; one with three days of brain-numbing tech training, the other with just the first really big meeting (everyone meet Sarah/holy-crap what have I gotten myself in to) in the middle of that training, sprinkled with some truly nasty snow storms. Yup – all in the same week folks. It’s how we roll around here.

At least he had snow shovelling to burn off the pre-exam anxiety!

At least he had snow shovelling to burn off the pre-exam anxiety!

So, forgive me for not throwing more out at you last week, but if I had asked any more of my brain, it would have looked just like this…. EHRIAOGHR !!!oanbf [r d9403q bdzfjojb. One could say I saved you from witnessing a visual breakdown, so, you are welcome!

It’s been a pretty crazy week for First Born Son as well. While he only had two exams to write, the “traditional” winter weather forced the schedule back two days, meaning he had to anticipate a math exam two days longer than necessary. Since he is My Son, math is like an allergen to him and he spent those extra days on a borderline hive breakout. Thankfully, he is now done and ready to move on to his second semester.

Which reminded me.

When I was his age (cue the whimsical music and black and white footage) I too loathed exams. When I was in Grade 11 (where he is now) my parents sold our home farm and purchased the land where they now reside. They were building a house which was ready for occupancy over the Christmas holidays. In the chaos of the move, it was lost on all of us that while I would have to transfer to a new high school, I WOULD STILL HAVE TO FINISH EXAMS AT MY OLD SCHOOL.

Since driving back and forth was out of the question, it required some creative thinking to come up with a solution.

That came in the form of  my Gramma. She lived in the same town as my old high school. She lived only three short blocks away from the school itself. What a perfect solution!! Could this be more convenient?

Did I mention she lived in Semi-Care?

So for two weeks, while I finished my exams, I slept at my grandmother’s apartment in a senior care centre. I would try to sneak out to be unseen by the staff doing their daily checks on the residents, since “visitors” were not people who stayed overnight, and certainly not for multiple nights. For those of you who have not had the “pleasure” of staying at such an establishment, let me tell you this; the smells and sounds of a Seniors’ Residence are not something one can get over in the short term. I still have flashbacks!

I would actually take a longer route to school, in the hopes that anyone who noticed me would not connect the fact that I was living in the local seniors’ home. Come on – I was 16. This was THE. WORST. SOLUTION. EVER.

There was no long-term impact for my Gramma, or myself. Or so I thought.

Recently, certain commercials have caught the eye of Second Born Son. He has announced that when he’s an adult, he’s going to move into a Seniors’ Home; after all, with all the down home cooking, bus trips and conga lines they are promoting, he’s thinking it’s Club Med.

I don’t have the heart to tell him about the smells and sounds…..

Better Than a Bouquet of Flowers

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Wanna see something sexy?

I mean something that gets you really turned on?

Brace yourself….

….

….hope you can handle this…

….

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!

 

It's the suds, I'm telling' ya!

 

The cleaning of the truck was followed by the cleaning of the inside of the truck, which was followed by an impromptu driving lesson for First Born Son. This was not discussed with me, nor was it endorsed by me. My truck is a standard so The Big Guy thought it would be good practice for FBS.

I refrained from expressing my displeasure because I no longer clean the outside of the truck with my dress pants and don’t have to crawl over gravel once I get in.

Still…totally sexy….

Letters That Need to be Written – Part II

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

Dear Joseph Cordes,

I’m sure you are hiding out following the embarrassment you have heaped upon yourself, your daughter, your family and your community at large.

You should.

Perhaps you have no grasp of what you did, and attempted to do, and refuse to hold yourself in any other regard than a passionate parent.

But as the mother of a goalie, I cannot imagine anything lower than aiming a laser pointer in the eyes of someone playing this position. Aside from the stigma most goalies wrestle with regarding their role in “losing” games, there is the simple fact that the goalie is the only person facing the rush of on-coming players. They have to handle frozen rubber pucks being fired at them at tremendous speeds. They have to be flexible to shut down rebounds; employ cat-like reflexes; possess the ability to see through well-meaning defenseman; be the fastest skaters on the team. Goalies need the mental strength to pick themselves up when five other players on the team make mistakes without consequence, but the third rebound on him/her gets posted on the score board.

Now they have to be able to deal with distractions from the stands from asses like you. Massachusetts must be so proud.

Hockey has a dark enough reputation; what with the legacy of debilitating concussions, gratuitous violence, sexual deviance and questionable team spirit. Did you really have to go and make hockey parents look like half-wits?

I hope you realize the message you are sending your daughter is that A) cheating is completely acceptable; B) adults don’t have to act any better than punk juvenile delinquents; and C) you didn’t have faith in her team to win without your intervention.

It’s like the Perfect Storm for Least Sportsmanlike Conduct.

You are damn lucky that your antics didn’t result in injury. The vision in a goalie helmet is limited at the best of times, and now you want to fry the player’s retinas??? What if she’d lost focus on a rush and ended up with a broken neck, slit throat, snapped collar-bone? Would that be worth it for a championship?

In the end, your team won 3-1. I’m sure the embarrassment of your actions has tempered any sense of accomplishment your team could have enjoyed. Your daughter will likely have to bear the burden of your deeds. I’m sure she would have preferred you to simply cheer for her from the stands.

I hope the competing team is successful in its appeal of this game. It takes very little to change the momentum of a game, and this low-brow discovery was made when the game was tied 1-1 in the third period. How shaken was the goalie following your ejection? How much focus was lost by the team as they realized they were competing against parents as well?

I also hope the authorities are successful in filing Breach of Peace charges against you.

It’s too bad there wasn’t legislation against being a Jackass.

Emphatically,

Sarah

What He Said…

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After a particularly exasperating exchange with Second Born Son, I exclaim in frustration,

Me: “LORD help ME!”

SBS: “I think he’s busy with someone else right now!”

TBG

We are watching First Bon Son’s hockey team. He’s the goalie, and it’s been a particularly busy night for him. Second Born Son’s only interest in the game is the fact that his brother is playing. He spends most of the time biting his tongue as we watch FBS stop second and third rebounds while teammates stand back in admiration.

One of mothers on our team is sharing her personal opinion of the official’s call, or rather lack there of. The word she uses rhymes with luck, truck, duck and schmuck.

SBS: Really…was that necessary? (Shakes head in disgust.) ADULTS!

TBG

SBS: “We played The Game of Life at school today. I love that game.”

Me: “Oh ya?”

SBS: “Ya, I saved all this money, because I didn’t get married, didn’t have any kids and I lived in a house trailer.”

Me: “Oh – that sounds kind of lonely.”

SBS: “It was AWESOME! I had the most money!!!”

Valentine’s Day in Three Parts….

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

It’s only two days after Valentine’s Day, and the Easter swag is on the shelves, but I’m still reflecting on the events of two days ago….

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I’ve been watching the commercials that start in rotation every January 2nd. The message is the same. If you have someone special in your life, you’d better do something for them on February 14th.

Or risk not having someone on February 15th.

I will admit, when I was young and naive, I bought into this commercialism. I’m not sounding very romantic right now, but if you stand back and set aside the Pink coloured glasses, you will see that there is nothing romantic about being forced to show how you feel about someone. Even the most emotionally emotive man gets a heavy dose of insecurity in the days leading up to Valentine’s Day. The bar is set high. Anything less will result in disappointment and frustration, not to mention reliving the moment for years after – if you are “fortunate” enough to stay with your loved one.

What is romantic about that??

I remember dating The Big Guy and he brought me a Valentine’s Day arrangement. A teddy bear clutching a plastic vase with fresh cut flowers. I was thrilled – such an obvious gesture of love and affection! Totally cute at the time and it impressed several of my friends, because we know it’s all about the brag factor. Wouldn’t thank you for it now. I love the idea of the unexpected. What is romantic is not what happens on one day, but the connection, the listening you do, on all the other days, that makes that one day memorable. And it doesn’t have to be V-day.

*A special note for you guys – you DON’T have to buy a piece of jewelry to get her attention. <Cue the Crickets>

I’m serious here girls! What would you rather have? A piece of jewelry that you basically TOLD him to buy for you, or a night in with your man, your favourite movie in hand because he LISTENED to you when you said you desperately wanted to see it. He also has your favourite snacks!! One is forced, one is genuine. When it comes to relationships, I prefer the latter.

That’s not to say I will turn away a hinged furry box! But let’s put it in context….

I won’t forget my 12th wedding anniversary because I received my sapphire and diamond ring from The Big Guy. Not on our 10th or 15th…. Completely unexpected – and I LOVED IT.

Surprise is romantic. The unexpected, is romantic. Pressure, expectation, entitlement…..

No so much.

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Second Born Son has taken an interest in baking lately. We made kick-ass peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Not long after, we made cupcakes for a friend’s birthday.

Look at that technique!

In the fashion of all agonizing childhood milestones, Valentine’s Day rolled around for him in his classroom.

At his age, not too many kids are keen on demonstrating affection, so it’s an awkward situation. I’ve told SBS that if wants to take a Valentine to one person, he needs to give one out for each person in his class. Fortunately, he agrees.

But this year, when his peers were marking a day for love and affection, one little shit student was changing the rules.

He handed out his store-bought cupcakes to only a handful of students. SBS was not one of them. To add insult to injury, he walked past SBS’s desk and said, “Jealous??”

To which my son, my little sweetie – who had given this child a Valentine AND a box of Smarties, just like everyone else, came back with this gem.

“No. I can MAKE my own, any time I want them.”

Freakin’ brilliant.

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It has been documented how our sons feel about our anniversary. Maybe because The Big Guy and I don’t gush over these holidays, we don’t expect much from the boys.

It was mentioned at one point that they had “something” for us, but honestly, with the chaos these past couple of days, I didn’t give it a lot of thought. I have a collection of sweet Valentine cards from my little men, and was looking forward to seeing what they put together this year.

But first, I had something else to attend to.

Made with Love - Half the Calories - ahahahahahahahahah

I always believe the motto “A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” So these little dreams were sinful!

It looks like The Big Guy had the same idea!

Poetry! Wow!

But for some reason, he thought I was going to share…THIS?!

Uh...YUM

I was ready to mow through dinner, just to get to dessert, but the boys has other ideas. Watch us get our minds blown!

Awwwww!

It was a Valentine’s Day card with a dinner card inside. They plotted and planned with FBS slipping downtown on his lunch to pick up the cards. Who knew they were so thoughtful!

And that, my friends, is the definition of a loving Valentine’s Day.

True love is the soul’s recognition of its counterpart in another.

~ Wedding Crashers

If….Then…..

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For the most part, we are blessed with good kids. But every now and then, one of them will pull a boner.

This time it was First Born Son’s turn. Nothing epic, but certainly worth several well thought out words in an elevated tone to drive home how frustrated and disappointed we are. In a day or so, it will all blow over, but for now, there needs to be a line drawn and some consequences.

This has been our approach since we became parents, and fortunately, The Big Guy and I have been on the same page, without really having a discussion about it. I remember while we were dating (long before talk of marriage or children), trying to enjoy a meal at a restaurant while a young upwardly mobile couple tolerated, and indeed coddled their young child. Certainly old enough to know how to behave in a restaurant, it was fairly obvious that we were witnessing a case of the Tail Wagging the Dog. Whining, food thrown and indulgence. Understandable when the child is 2, more than annoying when the kid is 5. We looked at each other and basically said the same thing to each other, “If we have kids, we are NOT letting them get away with crap like THAT!”

One of the worst things I see is when parents use threats or ultimatums. These could also be considered boundaries. Nothing wrong with setting terms, the problem is when the child knows the threat is hollow. We have made a point of not doing this, and it has served us well. Its all about the follow through.

I remember when FBS was just a wee guy. We were at a friend’s house and he was enjoying the pool. I was done for the day and back in my dry clothes (fear not, he had enough safety and flotation devices on him, not to mention I was ALWAYS within arm’s reach). Anyway, I asked him nicely to come out of the pool to dry off; it was time to go home. He refused. I told him he had to the Count of Three (another favourite tactic) to get out of the pool, or I was coming in for him.

One beat after I said “Three” he started to laugh – there was no way Mommy was going to get in, she was in her clothes. I stepped right into the pool, sandals, shorts, tee and all, and hauled his scrawny wet tush out of that pool. From that day forward, he knew. There were consequences and not listening to Momma was not advised.

Years later, I coached his ball team. During a practice we were working on stealing home. I advised the base runner, who was a little meek, that he needed a more substantial lead off. Three pitches later, he’s still take two steps. I need him to take at least four. I tell him, “If you don’t get more of a jump out there, I’m going to make you wish you had.” He looks over at FBS who is the third baseman for this exercise. FBS just shakes his head and says, “She’ll do it man.”

Ironically, the runner had an excellent jump and  was able to get to Home Plate with ease.

I took exception to title the Day Care teachers gave me; Hitler Mom, but that’s only because of the choice of villain, not because of the context. I don’t drop the hammer all the time. The Big Guy isn’t irrational. We save consequences for serious transgressions. Laptops and tablets, iPods and TV privileges have been revoked because of serious breaches of behaviour.

Which is why I identify, and respect the position of this father…..

Dad uses Facebook

Naturally, there are people who feel he is the worst example as a parent.

I feel I’m in pretty good company.

Hitting a Milestone aka “The Grass is Always Greener”

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Every parent looks forward to the firsts in their child’s life. First smile, steps, contracts with NHL franchises. Here in Boweryville, we enjoyed another milestone, just this past Friday night.

That’s the evening after Second Born Son faced his first exposure to drugs.

I’ll give you a moment to clean up the coffee that just shot through your nose. My apologizes for the nasal scalding.

And like so many things in my world – this impactful information was present in the most innocuous way possible.

“Hey Mom, did SBS tell you what happened on the bus today?” asks First Born Son. Let me add here that the boys have been in the house for OVER AN HOUR AT THIS POINT. I’d like to take this opportunity to emphasize how much I loathe “The Bus”. The stories I have from that period in my life make me a poster child for naivety shattered.

After hauling SBS from his father’s laptop, we had a detailed discussion about what happened and I used my journalist prowess to decipher every nuance of the incident. It would seem the little entrepreneur saw SBS board the bus with his box of elementary school fundraising chocolate bars and thought he could negotiate a trade of cocoa product for Grass.

At this point FBS is boarding the bus, and along with his friend, they punch the pusher and managed to hijack the conversation, as well as the proposition. I ask SBS what he’s doing while his brother is pounding the fellow bus rider.

“I just did this.” he sits at the dinner table, eyes as big as saucers, focusing on an imaginary bus seat in front of him, mute and unblinking.

In fairness, FBS has mentioned that this kid had marijuana on him in the past – he’s actually SEEN it on him. I would find out well after the fact and since it did not directly involve one of my offspring – I didn’t feel motivated to go vigilante on this kid. It’s part of the new era I like to call “I’m Only Raising My Kids.”

This time, a call to the bus driver Friday evening, followed by an email to the two school principals Monday morning, was required. The high school principal contacted me in the afternoon to advise the student had been called into the office. Suffice it to say, his day got infinitely more shitty than his morning bus ride, when the driver instructed him to sit at the front – an embarrassment he pinned on FBS.

While we’ve had “the drug talk” with our kids for the past few years, it’s still unsettling that it’s come so close to us, with SBS at such a young age. I’m not naive enough to think my kids couldn’t do drugs. I know SBS could easily have swapped chocolate bars for an easy high – and we discussed whether or not he wants to go down that road. His horrified response reassured me.

For now.

I thanked FBS for being there for his brother, and together we discussed things SBS could have said, in the event that this happens again and his brother isn’t around to help out.

I’m not dumb enough to think that this won’t happen again.

You can only go day by day and hope and pray your kids know enough not to blink.

40…otherwise known as FORTY

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I remember thinking when my mother turned 40, it was OLD. Oh the joy of youth.

I remember turning 15 and FREAKING OUT. Because I was half way to 30.

I remember years ago between diaper changes figuring out some time frame for some random reason and telling The Big Guy, “You know, when that rolls around, I’ll be 40, First Born Son will be 14 and Second Born Son will be 11!!!!!” Guess what…..

Perhaps its the fact that most of my friends are older than me, or maybe credit should go to Haley Berry’s pioneering efforts, but 40 ain’t no biggie. I’ve always enjoyed celebrating my birthday, and feel there is nothing wrong with taking a day to feel special, but in recent weeks, there have been a number of people saying something along the lines of “Oooh, FORTY! Getting OLD!”

I can honestly say I’ve enjoyed each stage of my life. The years with babies making way for the years with young men. It’s going fast and it’s my goal to enjoy every moment. Like this morning, when the boys stage whispered around the house and when I came downstairs, shouted “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and guided me to my spot at the table where a tea biscuit dressed up with a candle waited for me. Balloons made my chair festive and the moment was recorded for posterity – bed head and all.

It would be nice not to get a cold for a present, but all things considered, I’m blessed and ready to admit it.

 

“What I Did This Summer” by Sarah

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Ok, so we’re not going to talk about how long it has been since my last entry. Mostly because I really can’t handle the guilt. But in my defence, there has been a lot of stuff going on these past few weeks. It’s almost like God is sitting up there looking down and saying “Hey, let’s see what she can do with THIS!” That God, such a sense of humour he has…. So, in no particular order, let’s get you caught up.

THE JOB HUNT

I am officially employed – cue the choir, trumpets and kazoos. Ironically, I can’t talk too much about my new job, but I can give you some parameters.

1. It is in law enforcement (hence the “can’t talk too much”) but I don’t, sadly, have access to firepower, or for that matter, handcuffs.

2. Taking this job required computer training. While I’ve participated in training in the past, I would have to say, hands down, that this instructor was THE WORST teacher I’ve ever had. That includes you, Mr. Walduck. I’m sure you are glad to pass the torch from Gr. 10 Accounting.

3. Shift work is involved, but since it is part time, it’s not too bad. I have had to rewire myself to understand that napping in the day is not a sign of sloth, but an essential key to survival. You will have to ask my family how well that’s working out, but I’ll hedge my bet to say it’s a “thumbs down” kinda result.

4. The Boys’ reaction to my employment status was mixed. On one hand, they knew the steady flow of baking they had been enjoin would slow diminish, but on the other, they were going to get the “Kid channels” as promised to them “When Mom gets a job”  since Dad’s job offers us an attractive discount on our fibre bill.

5. I have worked two nights, and now, two days. In this length of time, I have come to realize that no matter how bad things may be in my life, someone out there is suffering through something 100% WORSE. I can promise you this – and it is heartbreaking. It makes me appreciative for a good man and two amazing children, two terrific parents and an extended family I am proud of. There are so many worse scenarios out there right now.

THE BOYS (and yes, that includes Roman)

1. Well, we are back to school. With this coinciding with the start of my new job, it’s been an interesting experience. Add to the fact that First Born Son started High School, and it is fair to say the anxiety level was at an all time high here at Boweryville.

2. The dog HATES school.

I am serious considering renting him out for weddings and Bar Mitzvahs.

This is Roman on Day 2 of Back to School. He is sitting in the kitchen – howling. This is after he watched the boys walked down the driveway and spent five minutes doing this….

Forgive the poor quality - it was edit photos or write the blog. I guess by now you've figured out which I chose.

He’s sitting at the front door trying to see if they are outside. You can’t actually “see” through this glass, but you get an idea of shapes, and this pup is looking for a big blob and slightly smaller blob. On Day 1 – he spent the day running from door to door, whining to be let out. It’s like he thought he lost track of the boys and was convinced that “they must be out back, no? Oh, well, let’s go check again out front! No?!? I must have just missed them.” I think you get the idea.

Now he spends most of his time looking at me with a look on his face that speaks volumes. “YOU are a lousy mother for losing track of your CHILDREN!” Join the club pup.

3. Ironically, The Boys do NOT hate school. FBS is loving high school and Second Born Son has a teacher who taught his brother. We all loved her and are looking forward to a great year ahead!

4. No hockey for SBS this year. He’s decided to “take a year off” and once it became evident that he was not headed to the NHL, The Big Guy and I think it is a misappropriation of parenting to force him to play. We realize we are the only two Canadian parents to take this position. He would like to try skiing and I’m thinkin’ that’s a GREAT idea!

5. FBS is playing, and actually trying out for Rep this year. Anyone who has followed this blog knows the hardship this kid has gone through in the name of love for hockey. The fact that he’s grown almost a foot in 18 months has certainly helped his odds. We should know which team he’s on in a couple of days. I’m just thanking the stars above that we didn’t have to replace his pads, catcher and blocker, but I just didn’t managed to find that $2,000 lying around this summer.

PARTY CENTRAL

1. We’ve been “Party Central” lately!

Two birthdays at one party - hey, we like a big BANG for the buck!

We had First Born Son’s birthday at the same time as my Mom’s. But we actually held it on my father-in-law’s birthday.

We do having a living room, but everyone wants to sit in the kitchen....

But it’s all good, because we had his birthday the weekend before…with his sister’s….

This could take a while....

And then just yesterday, we celebrated FBS’ birthday!

That broad in the back looks familiar, but I never see her in any of the other pictures...

So suffice it to say, the five pounds I gained with all the birthday cake I seem to have worn off with the back and forth with the dog to each of the four doors of this house.

ANYTHING ELSE YOU’D LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE CLASS?

1. Farm update I guess. We finally said good-bye to The Farm. The household items were sold at the end of August and while it didn’t impact me as much as the first auction did, it was still a tough day. Once again, SBS directed traffic, and FBS helped his father on the wagons. It was interesting to see some of the artifacts that were unearthed.

Butter Churn

This butter churn now resides south of the border.

What almost $300 looks like!

It was amazing what people were willing to pay for items. Here is a bovine horn with gunpowder in it. Sold for just under $300. Give me a moment while I look for a saw and some horned Herfords…..

I managed to pick up some items myself, but we’ll leave that for another day.

2. Worked our a$$es off outside! I was so sick of looking at the Red and White shed – in case you can’t remember….

The job necessitated the dog run, which began the thought about how to paint once it was done...

and once we realized the pup needed a proper run for when I’m a the mine and the boys are at school, we realized if were ever going to get rid of that colour, the time was now.

I'm supposed to be up on the ladder, but no one would hold the camera for me.

So I started painting. No one could get where I was going with “mud” for a colour, but patience people!!

TA-DAH!

The idea was to make it disappear. I don’t want to see it any more and I think it is Mission Accomplished! The Big Guy gets credit for the finishing touches, such as some of the trim and the kennel. Roman has the best dog run this side of the Saugeen!

IN CONCLUSION

Therefore, I defend my failure to submit on a regular basis on the grounds that I haven’t exactly been watching soaps and eating bon bons.

That being said, I will make a concerted effort in the future! 😉