We're Going on a Bear Hunt

Today, Leif, Harriet and I read We're Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen. Leif loved it so much that we had to read it three times in a row, and then we had to go out for our very own bear hunt.

Harriet, we're going on a bear hunt.

We're going to catch a big one.

What a beautiful day!

We're not scared.

Did he say a bear hunt, mom? I might be a little scared.

Oh-oh! Woods!

A leafy, dark wood.

We can't go over it.

We can't go under it.

Oh no! We've got to go through it!

crunch!crunch!

crunch! crunch!

crunch! crunch!

Oh-oh! Puddle!

A deep, round puddle.

We can't go over it.

We can't go under it.

Oh no! We've got to go through it!

splish splash!

splish splash!

splish splash!

shhhhhhh . . . I think the bear is close. 

There he is!

 I guess in Leif's world bears can fly.

. . . tee hee!

 Then, when Leif was done hunting bears, he grabbed my hand and said:

Home, mom.

Yes, Love. We can go home now.

 I truly am the luckiest woman in the world.

The Worst Mama Ever

I had the most ingenious idea the other day. Rather than give my littles cash rewards for doing so well in school this year, I gave them each an Indigo gift card with instructions that it must be used to purchase a book or two for the summer. How on earth did I, an honours student in English Literature, a prolific reader and a book enthusiast, give birth to not one but three non-readers?  It makes absolutely no sense. They grew up being read to. They have been surrounded by books their entire lives. In fact, we have six book shelves overflowing with books and only nine rooms in my house. That is a bookshelf for every room of my house except the bathrooms (and if you walked into any of my bathrooms at this moment you would find that all but one have a stack of books in them. I can't bring myself to take a book in the bathroom. Call me weird, but I can't.) Okay, so to say they are a bunch of non-readers may be harsh. I guess I should clarify this. Yes, my children read. In fact, they beg me to read to them all the time. Each of them goes to bed at night with a stack of books beside them, but, and here is where my heart breaks, they are always comic books or graphic novels. Don't get me wrong; comic books have merit, and in fact, I particularly enjoy a good dose of Calvin and Hobbes, but as a lover of novels, big honking, invest a good portion of your life, novels (is it any surprise that I did my honours in Victorian literature?), I long to come across one of my children curled up on the couch engrossed in a novel and transported away to some fictitious world. 

Anyhoo . . .

So, on Tuesday, I took the kids to the book store. Zoe shocked me a month ago when she entered my room one night and made this official proclamation:

I am going to read a book this summer.

I hate to admit it, but I did let out a squeal of delight, to which she immediately rolled her eyes at. I couldn't help myself, though. Of all my kids, Zoe is my worst reader. Sure, she can read, but she doesn't. This announcement was big news, and I was absolutely shocked and amazed that she spent the next four weeks researching books that may interest her. When this girl sets her mind on something, there is no stopping her; therefore, when we arrived at the book store, Zoe immediately headed to the teen section and began her search. Within ten minutes, she emerged with not one, not two, but three books! I wanted to let out another squeal of delight, but I was so fearful that she may put all of the books back in disgust at a public display of my extreme nerdiness, that I held it in. That was a close one!

Avery, who for lack of a better word is our house suck-up, loves nothing more than to please his mama and outshine his siblings, and so he attacked the kids' section with a vengeance. In the hour that we were there, that boy must have chosen at least twenty books, but in the end, he settled with a Hardy Boys book and a Simpson's comic (don't judge me; I caved! We all do it.)

Since Zoe and Avery had no problems at all finding books to read, you may be wondering why we were in the book store for an hour. I will give you one guess . . . come on, you know the answer to this one. Yep, you guessed it - Elliot! The first thing Elliot did when we walked into the children's section at Indigo was go to the toy section in spite of his mama's warnings that under no circumstances would we be purchasing a toy. Of course, while he was there, he fell in love with a plastic bow and arrow set that was outrageously overpriced.

Mom, if you let me take one dollar off of my gift card to go towards this toy, I have enough money to buy this on my own.

No, Elliot.

Mom . . . .

Mom . . . .

Mom . . . .

Mom . . . .

No, Elliot.

And then he became fixated on purchasing the bow and arrow. It did not matter how many books we showed him or how many times I told him that there was no way he would be walking out of that store with that bow and arrow in his hands, he would not give up.

But, mom . . . .

Mom . . . .

Mom . . . 

No, Elliot.

This his how we spent our hour. By the end of it, he was in the middle of the teen section, with tears in his eyes, defiantly standing his ground and declaring:

I AM NOT A READER!!!!!

Finally, I calmly looked at him, and told him he could either choose a book at this very moment or we would be coming back another day.

YOU ARE THE WORLD'S WORST MOTHER!

I know.

He begrudgingly grabbed the book Zoe had found for him and huffed and puffed the entire way up to the check-out, muttering under his breath how much he hates me. He purchased the book. Then we went to Costco. After I loaded the groceries in the trunk and hopped into the van, I noticed that he had picked up his new book and was looking at it. Then, when we were in line waiting for the ferry, I noticed that he was actually reading it. By the time we arrived home, he was laughing and sharing funny things that the main character had done. Then, as we were putting the groceries away, Elliot came up to me and said:

Mom, I don't want that bow and arrow anymore. It would probably just break.

And as much as I wanted to gloat, to sing and to dance my way around the kitchen shouting "I was right!", I nodded in agreement and when his back was finally turned, I smiled the biggest and most cheesiest grin of all time. 

Oh, yea! Who won this one? That would be me.

^^In the parking lot of Costco^^

^^Waiting in line at the ferry^^

^^The next day on the ferry. This boy can't put it down!^^

I am the happiest mama on earth, the worst mama mind you, but, nonetheless, the happiest!

. . . tee hee!

I've Still Got It

It is always difficult to come down from the high of a really great weekend. On Saturday morning, Zoe woke up early and headed to a volleyball tournament in Sussex.  Then we picked her up and took the whole family to Fredericton for a conference that was being held in our church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. For Mr. Level-Headed and I, we eagerly attend these conferences because it is an opportunity to connect with dear friends from all the Atlantic provinces and to be spiritually nourished, uplifted and enlightened. For the kids, it is nothing but one gigantic party! Can you imagine staying in a  hotel with some of your bestest and most wildest friends? There was swimming, there was X-Boxing, there was prank-your-sister-and-lock-her-out-of-the-room, there was get-back-at-your-snotty-nosed-brothers-and-make-them-pay, there was pizza, there was pop, and there was a whole lot of running and squealing. 

When we returned home Sunday afternoon, everyone was exhausted! Mr. Level-Headed took a nap, I read a book, and the kids watched a movie.  Everything was going pretty good until the boys broke out into one rip-roaring fist fight and mama decided that everyone had had enough screen time for the day. There was whining, there was crying, there was bickering and there was a whole lot of teasing. Feeling the resolve, the hope, and the energy that had been restored to me from our spiritual feast of a weekend fading quickly and noticing that it was only 7pm, I ordered everyone into my bed. I asked Avery, the only cooperative one of the bunch, to choose a book, and then we snuggled up beneath my warm, cosy duvet.

The whining continued:

Ugh! Not the Hobbit!

I know everything about this book!

Ahhhh! He's touching me!

He's breathing on me!

Then the giggles erupted:

She's tickling me!

He's making faces at me.

In spite of their interruptions, I kept on reading. Eventually, everyone quieted down. They snuggled deeper within the blankets, and they moved in closer to one another. Then nothing short of a miracle happened: one by one my not-so-little kids fell asleep. I was shocked, and very excited with this unexpected turn of events. Zoe went first, then Elliot and finally, Avery. With their warm, quiet bodies sleeping soundly beside me, I continued to read. I did not want this moment to end, and so I finished reading the lengthy chapter. Between the rhythm of my words and their slumbering breaths, my peace was restored. I looked upon their sweet faces and could not remember the last time I had put them all to sleep in my bed with a bedtime story. I did not move for the longest time. I sat there soaking up the beauty of this moment, reflecting upon the joy my family brings me, and thanking Heavenly Father for one more opportunity, and quite possibly my last, to put all of my babies to sleep.

This is going to be a fantastic week!  I just know it.

Due to the nature of teenagers, I thought it best not to include a picture of the sleeping Baby Girl. :)

Brown Boxes Make Me Smile

There is no better to way to brighten your day after having been pelted with wind and rain than opening your mailbox to find not one, not two, BUT three parcels . . .

And it's even better, when those parcels happen to be filled with books!

The night we returned home from our trip, Mr. Level-Headed ignored my pleas and stopped at our mailbox on our way home.  I really needed just one more sleep before reality clobbered me over the head, but it wasn't  meant to be.  Among our stack of bills and Easter cards, there was a letter from Elliot's Developmental Pediatrician with another list of books we may find useful in helping Elliot to relieve his anxiety, to better understand social situations, and to learn more about NLD.  This is only half of what she wants us to read, and does not include the pile we have already gone through. 

EEEEEK!  

I think I may need another vacation . . .

tee hee!

Although the sheer size of what I have to read is overwhelming, all of these books are amazing, and it will be so great when their knowledge is safely tucked away within my brain and I can access it readily when needed.   Like right now, I really need to know how to help Elliot sleep.  We are going on a week and a half and I am dying here; therefore, today, while the boys are doing their work, I am going to go through my small library and search for the answer.  I NEED ANSWERS!!

On a positive note, I am currently working with my kids on a preventive program for depression because people with NLD have an exuberantly high rate of depression, but I figured this would be something all my kids could benefit from. The book I am using is called "The Optimistic Child", and it outlines how you can teach your child to become an optimist rather than a pessimist and give them tools to build a lifelong resilience against depression. I love it!  First off, you have to teach your kids how to recognize, or "catch" the things they say to themselves particularly when something goes wrong.  Our internal dialogue determines how we react to adversity and the consequences that arise from it.  The goal is to teach kids to stop thinking in catastrophic, permanent, and negative ways; for instance, I am the stupidest person ever, nobody likes me, I will never be good at math, etc.  During our first session, Zoe and Avery joked around a lot, but Elliot became sullen.  As I was putting him to bed, he began crying and said:

Mom, I am feeling down.

Why, bud?

Because the things I say to myself are not very nice.

Like, what kinds of things?

Well, whenever I do something good, this tiny voice always says:  yeah, but you are a dog killer.

My heart stopped.  Three years ago, our dog Sport drowned in the river while we were away on a hockey tournament, and it has bothered Elliot ever since, but I had no idea he thought this.

Buddy, you had nothing to do with Sport's death.

Yes, I did!  If I wasn't off having fun and was home taking care of my dog like I should have been doing, this would never have happened!

My heart sank.  My little boy had been carrying this around with him for three years.  I curled up beside Elliot, wrapped my arms around him, and whispered in his ear just how important he is to me. 

Buddy, you are the most amazing boy I know, you are very special, and I love you. 

These little insights I am granted into Elliot's experience are hard to hear.  Until his diagnosis, I had no idea just how difficult he found the world or that he was carrying such a heavy burden on his shoulders each and every day, but thank heavens I do know now.  Now, I can help him, and now he is no longer alone!

Parents, please talk to you kids and find out what kinds of things they are saying to themselves.  We spend so much time warning them about external threats, like bullies or ill-intentioned adults, but sometimes, it is that little voice in their head, that goes undetected for years, and does the greatest damage.  I am a firm believer that knowledge is power, and we need to equip our children with the knowledge and tools they need to lead happy, productive lives.  It isn't going to be easy, but it will definitely be worth it!

My Favourite Kind of Mornings

It is 8 am.  The house is quiet and dark.  Both boys are still sleeping, exhausted from all the late nights, the playdates, and the significant lack of veggies in our diet this past week.  I can hear the rain tapping on my bedroom window, and I think to myself this is the moment I have been waiting for all week.  

I brew a cup of peppermint tea in my favourite mug,

I grab a "fun" book, one without NLD in the title,

and tuck myself back into bed:

Aaahhhh!  This is the life.

Happy rainy Friday, everyone!