Growing Pains

I can't be your little boy forever, Mom!

I never thought I would hear those eight words being uttered by Elliot. He has always been such a mama's boy and proud of it. Ever since he was born, he has been stuck to me like glue, and because of everything we have gone through together and all the challenges that still lie before him, I have always felt that we have a deep connection. That we need each other. He was going to be my boy who lived in the basement. My Peter Pan, who refuses to grow up. But, that is changing. Elliot is seeking out his independence. He wants to do more on his own and he wants space from his mama. I get it, and part of me is really proud of him for it, but there is a tiny, selfish part of me that really wishes he would stop growing up so gosh darn quickly.

Elliot was uber-excited to turn twelve because that meant he could legally stay home alone. He was almost counting down the days. Unfortunately though, at the same time that he turned twelve a few homes in our area were broken into it, while people were home! This terrified me, and I wouldn't leave any of my kids home alone, including Zoe. I have not been able to tell Elliot the real reason why our date nights have suddenly come to an abrupt halt or why the kids must go with me on every menial errand I run because he is already plagued with a million and one worries, and we don`t need this one added to the list. Whenever he protests that it is because I don't trust him, I assure him that this is not true and simply explain:

Elliot, I trust YOU. I just don't trust everyone else.

For the moment, this explanation seems to work, but he is not pleased with it.

So . . . . . . .

Last week, Zoe was babysitting for a friend of ours in the Rothesay area, but she also tutors another friend`s daughter in math two mornings a week. It just so happened that one of the days she had to babysit, she also had to tutor. We decided that the boys and I would go with her to her babysitting job, and we would take the little girl she was babysitting to the playground, while Zoe tutored up the road. Since this meant we were crossing the river and joining a much more civilized part of the world, where sidewalks exist and the speed limit is only 50 km (man, I love sidewalks!), the boys begged me to let them bring their bikes along. I love my home on the Peninsula! I love the beauty that surrounds us - the trees, the river, and all the birds that call my backyard their home. I love the fact that we own a huge lot and unlike our old home in Saint John, I don`t have five other homes looking into my backyard, but . . . the peninsula is not a child-biking friendly area. We live on a country highway, which means there really is no speed limit and the windy narrow roads are really not conducive to such speeds, but that does not seem to phase anyone. Top all of this off with the countless beer cans I find sprawled alongside the road everyday, I have decided that our road is not child-biking friendly.

Anyhoo . . . 

The boys took their bikes with us this particular day and rode them to the playground. They were so excited and I can`t blame them. I remember the exhilarating feeling of being a kid and riding your bike along the busy streets and biking out of sight from your mom. It`s your first taste of freedom and it is awesome!  After we finished up at the playground, . . . oh, I just have to mention that raising Thing 4 is going to be a piece of cake with these two big brothers. My boys LOVE little kids and they played hard at the playground with the little girl Zoe was babysitting. It warmed my heart to see them so gentle with her and so willing to entertain. So . . . . after we finished up at the playground, the boys begged me to let them ride their bikes back to Grammie`s. My initial reaction was to say no because my mother lives a fair distance away, but then I remembered that when I was twelve, just like Elliot, I would bike to my friend, Anne`s house, almost every day, who just happened to live a minute away from where the boys and I were now. Ugh! I hate parental dilemmas. I looked at Elliot who was giving me those pleading, puppy dog eyes that he has mastered so well, and I could not say no. Really, I had no reason to say no. If I could do it, he could do it too, and that`s when he said it, those eight little words that keep ringing in my ears:

I can`t be your little boy forever, Mom!

You are right, Elliot. Yes, you and Avery can bike to Grammies.

And so I let them go. Well, I let them go as much as I could. As soon as I walked back to where Zoe was babysitting, I hopped into my car and went on the search for my boys. I passed them walking their bikes up a steep hill, and I had to giggle. They looked so cute and so grown-up making the trek up the hill and talking the whole time. I decided to park my car on a side street further up the road to watch for them. After a couple of minutes I saw them bike past me. Elliot was yelling instructions to Avery behind him and they were zooming along. Then I decided to drive to a parking lot further along their route and wait for them there. Sure enough, after a few minutes, they sped past me, but this time I was spotted. They laughed and waved at me. Finally, I decided to let them do the rest of the journey on their own and I drove to my parent`s house. To see their faces when they victoriously turned onto my childhood road was so rewarding for me as a parent. They were ecstatic! They had accomplished a difficult task on their own, and they felt invincible. I am so glad that I did not listen to my inner Nervous Nelly because honestly, she can be a terrible bore sometimes. 

Way to go boys!

Parenting is so hard because it is one of those jobs where your whole purpose is to put yourself out of a job . . . tee hee! 

Have a great weekend!

Siblings

I love watching my kids interact with one another because, at times, they can be so close, while at other times, they can't get far enough away from one another.  

It reminds me of my own siblings . . .

Can I have a big shout out to the Skov sibs? I love you guys!

Anyhoo, when we are on vacation, our kids get along amazingly well.  Mr. Level-Headed and I always comment on how well we all travel together.  But really, why would they fight?  Everyone is getting what they want, and there are no restrictions placed upon them.  You want to drink pop and eat pizza all week?  Go for it!   You want to stay up late watching movies in your bed?  Go for it!  Vacation is a blast!!

But, then you come home, and oh, reality can be so very harsh.  All of a sudden you are expected to go to bed on time, wake up early, do school work, do your chores, and eat colourful foods . . .

and I am not talking about this stuff . . . 

which was sadly disappointing when we finally got into it.  :(

No, I am talking about broccoli, carrots, peppers, mushrooms . . . mmm . . . real food!  So, it should be no surprise to me that the kids were a little surly this week.  What a shock to their little systems!  Especially the boys, and one boy in particular, who seems to need a vacation from his vacation.  Elliot has not slept all week.  He is up till 1:30 - 2:30 am and then wakes every hour or two afterwards.  Help me!!

Anyhoo, I digress.  So, where was I?  Right, surly kids.  So, the boys can not even be in the same room with one another without hitting, calling names, and, generally, just making life miserable for one another.  All I hear all day long is I hate you!  You are such a moron!  What an idiot!  Last night, Avery claimed he could not possibly sit down to eat supper because having Elliot sit across from him was making his stomach sick. 

Aaaaahhhhhh!

But, before I lost my cool or began weeping because my children are heading down the path of Cain and Abel, or Nephi and Laman and Lemuel (Book of Mormon characters and a very interesting portrayal of sibling rivalry . . . you should read it some time!), I remembered times with my own sisters and brother.  We were the best of friends and the worst of enemies.  This is what siblings do.  Siblings are"safe" people.  The people you can lash insults at or pummel with your fists when you are feeling at your wit's end, and then in the next breath, they are the ones you are hugging, laughing with and sharing some of the best times of your life with.  

Awww . . . 

And this is true for my own kids!  Even though I spent the entire week asking the boys to stop harassing one another or beating one another up, there were many moments like these, where they just couldn't get enough of each other:

 No worries . . . right?

You may be wondering where Zoe was in all this fighting and loving.  Well, Zoe was busy with her own life, and we didn't see much of her.  She came home and jumped right back into the world of studying for tests, volleyball games, soccer try-outs, and getting ready for her first church dance, which she is over-the-moon excited for because kids from all over Nova Scotia, PEI, Maine, and New Brunswick will be there.  They are going to have a blast!!

Here is the dress we bought for her, while we were down in Florida:

Gorgeous . . . right?

So, of course, we then had to go shoe shopping:

And since these shoes were on "Buy One Get One Half Off", and the mama liked the yellow ones and Zoe liked the red ones, we figured we might as well buy them both and share them!  I LOVE having a teenage daughter!!!

Ooh!  I really hope I did not ruin her grand entrance tonight?  Surely, your First Dance dress is not like your wedding dress?  I may be in trouble, folks . . . again.

Since Zoe was busy all week, she really didn't get into the fighting matches too much,  but she was at the brunt of some light-hearted brotherly teasing!  With the dance coming up, the boys are quite concerned that Zoe will find her one true love . . . tee hee!  Elliot has informed her all week that any boy that wants to marry her has to first go through daddy, then him, then Avery, and then her grandfathers.  And according to Elliot, it won't be pretty (as he punches his fist into his palm) . . . tee hee!  Poor Zoe!  This sends her into a fit of rage.

I am NOT going to meet the man I will marry at the dance.  I am only fourteen.

But, mommy met daddy at fifteen.

Stop right there!  Man, that comparison hit me like a ton of bricks.

Zoe is not going to meet the man she will marry at the dance!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am such a hypocrite . . . tee hee!

Anyhoo, that's how our week went down.  There was tears, there was fights, there was teasing, but there was also a whole lot of love.  

I am so happy to be home!

And our furry family member was glad to have us home too!

I  guess he prefers the People Park to the Puppy Park.  It must have been the company and all the fun toys.

Have a great weekend!!

Little Men

As promised, I am going to tell you all about my boys adventure on Wednesday.  Well, as much as I can since I wasn't with them.  This was a solo mission!

During my visit with Susan and Emma, we sat in the living room admiring the view of the Bay of Fundy, which is just outside of Susan's door (I am so jealous!), chit-chatting like us girls do, and being amused with the antics of Susan's incredibly adorable toddler (again, I am so jealous!).  It was a perfect afternoon!  The older kids in all their teenage awkwardness watched a movie, while the younger guys played.

Amidst our chuckles and chatter, Eli came up to Susan and asked if he and my boys could go to the store. No big deal! Well, that is, it was no big deal for Susan and Eli because this is the norm when you live in an urban setting with sidewalks and stores within walking distance, but for us, country bumpkins, this was new territory, but I didn't think twice of it, which is very strange since I usually think about everything at least a gazillion times before I take action.  But not this day.  I guess the wonderful company, the interesting conversation, the beautiful view (of the bay, the toddler, and my new prize) had lulled me into a state of easy-goingness. 

Sure you can go.  Have fun!

Just to prove how laid back I was, at least two hours had past before I even thought about the boys again and wondered if they had arrived home, and sure enough, there they were sitting in front of the TV enjoying the treats they had bought.

With suppertime quickly approaching and groceries still to be bought, we reluctantly bid our farewells to everyone, and the wee Websters and I jumped back into our van and headed on our way. (Mind you not without great difficulty maneuvering out of Susan's driveway . . . tee hee! How embarrassing!.)

So, boys which store did you walk to?

The Blue Store?

THE BLUE STORE?

I probably should mention that Susan lives in my childhood neighbourhood, and so, I was very familiar with the Blue Store.

That's the store I used to walk to as a little girl.

Well, it is awesome, and we got a free bag of chips from the Doritos Man who saw we had just bought a bag of Doritos.

Yeah, so we got TWO bags of chips each! 

And a can of pop!

I love that place, mom!  I think we need to go every week on Wednesday now that we know the Doritos delivery schedule.

As a child, my friends and I spent many summer afternoons leisurely walking to the Blue Store to buy our 40 cent bags of chips (Ugh! I sound so old). I remember the sense of freedom I had on these trips and how grown up I felt with money in my pocket and the freedom to choose whatever treat I wanted.  It was invigorating!  And here were my boys having a similar experience.  Initially, it saddened me to think that I wasn't with them to hear what three little boys would discuss on their travels, to witness if they walked along the concrete hedge leading up to the store like we used to as kids, or to see their face when the Doritos Man offered them an extra bag of chips.  But when I began to imagine what their adventure must have been like, or where they sat when Elliot said they needed to take a break to drink some of their pop, my heart fluttered.  Although I wish I could have been there with them on their walk, I was proud of them for doing it on their own. My boys are growing up.  They are becoming little men, and more and more they will be experiencing the world without me, which just makes having the opportunity to home school them this year all the more special to me.

As wild as they are, I am proud to say they are my boys and I love them dearly! 

Happy long weekend everyone!

Growing Pains

My youngest sister, Emily, moved out of the nest.

This has really perplexed the wee-est Webster because,according to his seven-year old sensibility,"why would anyone ever want to leave their mama?". 

Yes, why indeed?

Although I was thrilled for Emily to take this giant leap into adulthood, my heart ached for my mom and dad.  Watching her boxes slowly leave the house, I couldn't help but wonder how my parent's felt.  Like all phases of parenthood, I am sure they are wrestling with conflicting emotions . . .relief . . . love . . . mourning . . . jubilation . . . fear . . . and so on.  It must be bittersweet to watch your babies grow and take flight.  Isn't this what we, the parents, work so hard for?  Every hug and kiss, every reprimand, every lesson, and every decision is made with the intention that someday they will forge their own path in this world.   But, even though this is what we are working towards, it must be difficult to stand by and watch that fateful day finally arrive. 

How do you let them go?

Segue into back story . . . 

On Friday night, the Skov-Nielsen women and the honorary Skov, Zoe, headed to town for a night of shopping and eating.  I LOVE ladies' night!  Shopping with my mom, my sisters and my daughter is such a treat because not only are we hunting for a good deal to make us look fabulous, but we are also hunting for the biggest laugh.  Here, Hilary, I think you would look fabulous in this tube top. Oh, Krista, this let-your-cheeks-hang-out miniskirt is just what you need and so on and so on!  And. somehow, amidst all the jokes and all the looks of disgust my daughter gave me as I paraded out of the changing rooms, we managed to make a few purchases.  On our way out,  Zoe decided to go back and buy a sweater she had tried on earlier.  She found it, and headed up to the cash as I stood off to the side admiring all the candy they had on display.  Mmmm refined sugar . . . my favourite!

The cashier greeted her, and asked her for her postal code.

Blah, blah . . .

Then her name.

Zoe

Zoe Webster

I froze. Standing a few feet away from my daughter, I began to see her in a different light.  She was a person!

Yes, very profound, Krista.  But, seriously, she is no longer an appendage of mine, but a person with her own name, her own email address, and as I am constantly reminded, her own distinct likes and dislikes.  We often call Zoe my mini-me because she looks so much like her mama, but at that moment, I realized she was her own woman with her own future ahead of her.

Then she pulled out her brand-new debit card.  My baby even has her own money!  How did this happen?

But, guess what . . .  I was excited not sad like I thought I would be.  My heart did a little leap. My baby is growing up, and this is a good thing.

So, how do you let them go?

Well, I guess life just helps you through it.  Their departure does not happen over night.  It happens gradually with each step they make until eventually they can stand on their own and you, the mama or the papa, can recognize them as the individual you helped them become.  This is not a time for tears, but a time to pat yourself on the back for a job well done. You survived parenthood without killing your kids . . . hooray!!

And your reward . . . .

No tears here . . .

tee hee!

    

Our Day at the Pool

Have you ever read "The Glass Castle" by Jeannette Walls?  Well, you need to!  It is her memoir of growing up with two very eccentric, self-absorbed parents, who essentially neglect their three children and force them to live in poverty, even though the family comes from wealth, for the "experience" of it all.  The book is amazing because Walls does not victimize herself or her siblings, but rather shows how her bizarre childhood empowered her and helped her to become the successful woman she is today.  Love it!

Wondering how this all ties into the shenanigans of 4 Websters and a Skov?  Well, you know Mr. Level-Headed is quite eccentric and very wealthy . . . tee hee!  I'll get to it in a minute.

Yesterday, Zoe had spent the night at her friends' place so it was just the boys and I.  We started off the day preparing for a huge video game sale, which quickly fell apart after the boys realized they really were not prepared to part with their beloved games.  Then we moved onto arts and crafts.  Avery made a paper plane, tied it to a string, and ran throughout the house with the plane trailing him.  Elliot decided to do some painting.  He grabbed the watercolours because "all serious painters use water colours, mom", and set out to explore his creative genius.

Not bad, eh?

It is titled "Man About to Fall to his Death and Meet a Sea Monster".  I love how all of Elliot's pictures involve death, blood, and sea monsters. If you are psychologist, please do not analyze this phenomena.  I really do not want to hear that my precious boy is destined to become a serial killer known as the Sea Monster.  You can keep that little tidbit of information to yourself . . . tee hee!

Anyhoo, after lunch we picked up Elliot's buddy and headed out to the Dreamland playground.  Poor Avery tried calling 3 of his friends, but no one was home.  This is my kids' FAVOURITE playground of all time, and they love hearing how my family, along with a plethora of other families whose kids attended Fairvale Elementary School, helped build it.  Or at least, I think they love to hear that story because I just keep telling it over and over again. 

While the boys chased each other through the mazes of wooden tunnels in one ultimate game of tag, I sat down to read Jeanette Walls' "Half Broke Horses".  I was pleased to learn that this book was all about her grandmother, Lily, who grew up in an equally dysfunctional family as her granddaughter, but also managed to become an independent, resourceful woman.  I was shocked as I read the opening chapter because it starts off with three young kids, the oldest being Lily and she was only 10 (Elliot's age), roaming a field in West Texas all alone when suddenly a flash flood is upon them.  Lily pulls her two siblings to a nearby tree and the three of them climb up into it, while a wall of water comes bearing down upon them. The water remains high throughout the night so these three little kids cling to the tree all night long, without sleeping, to make sure they do not slip off and drown.  CRAZY!!

Back to playground.

After the boys had chased each other to near exhaustion, we went for a swim at the Qplex, the new community pool just a ferry crossing away from our home.  As I stood on the edge of the pool with an entire league of suburban moms and an army of lifeguards diligently watching the shenanigans of a sea of children splashing and swimming, I had to laugh at how different this scenario was compared to those found in the tales of Jeanette Walls.   Although this style of over-protective parenting is all the rage these days, I was left wondering if in fact it was better for our children, or are we simply denying them empowering experiences, which would in turn develop resourcefulness and confidence?  Are we raising them to be timid and fearful of the world with our constant reminders of not to run and covering their little bodies with a shield of armour before they embark upon a deadly day at the pool.   You know the shield of armour I am talking about: sunscreen, sunhats, and lifejackets.

I don't know.

I wish I was more like those few parents, who could grab their book and find a nice shady spot to sit in while the kids swim and squeal, but I'm not.  I'm a hoverer.

But then again, if I hadn't been a hoverer, I would have missed these shots:

And I would have missed Avery's moment of facing his fear and being triumphant.



Phew! The sea monster didn't catch him this time . . . tee hee!

I love this photo!  You can almost hear him saying: "I did it. I actually did it!".

In the end, I don't know which parenting method is the best, but my gut is telling me to simply be who you are because you is exactly what your kids need.



6 + 6 = 4 and Other Nonsense

At what age do we lose our imagination and nestle comfortably amongst routines and scripted outcomes?

On Sunday afternoon, as I was finishing up the dishes, Avery asked if I would play a game with him.

 A game, you ask? Well of course I would love to play a game with you!  How about Sequence, Monopoly, or Sorry?  For those of you who don't know me well or haven't had the opportunity to play a game with me, I LOVE boardgames! But, I can be a tad bit competetitive and have been known to throw the odd temper tantrum (or dice) when it looks like all hope is lost.  Before you pass judgement, I want you to ask yourself what would you do when oh, let's say that your devious husband has just obliterated your defenses in Canada and is about to wage a war of mass destruction in North America taking both you and one of his sweet, innocent offspring out of the game entirely?  Really?  What happened to chivalry?  Ah, but this is a whole other story and one best left to when I can put some distance between myself and that unpleasant evening. 

Anyhoo, so Avery replies "No, no, mom!  I have made a game and it is already set up."

GASP! I can feel every muscle in my body tense.

 A game that my munchkin of terror has created? Will it make sense?  How do  I win?  Is this a game of chance, a game of strategy, or a combination of both?  Oh sweet sugarsticks, what am I to do?!

Then I see his pleading face and remember that I am his mama, and in eleven short years he will be off creating his own life, while I am left poring over old blog posts and yearning to relive each precious moment we shared.   Can you say over-the-top?



Could you say "No" to this face?

Me: "Sure, that would be fun.  What is the game called?"
Avery: "Room of Death."
Me: "Of course it is."

Now remember when I said I am competitive?  Well, I am also a wee bit obsessive compulsive.  So, when Avery was explaining how the game is played, I videotaped him just in case a point of discrepancy arose and we would need to consult the rule book.   You are probably asking yourself at this moment if I am for real. Sorry folks, I really am that crazy!

Unfortunately, I was unable to upload this video for reasons beyond my comprehension so I will just give you an outline of the rules:

1. Here is the game board, or the game chair if you are particular.  Avery has to move your man through this labrynth of nonsense because, trust me, you would get lost.

2.  At each pit stop in the game, you must battle the monster that lurks there.  The highest roll wins and the loser must pay the winner $500.

3.  If you roll two 6's then you move four spaces.  The teacher in me did check that he knew in fact that  6 + 6 = 12, but I guess in the Room of Death 6 + 6 = 4.  Makes perfect sense, right?  Hence my apprehension to play.

4. A pack of ninjas can drop by at anytime and you have to fight them.

5. You are not given a set amount of money to begin with, and you can "steal" some from the bank at anytime.  He really is drawn towards acts of delinquency.  Should I be concerned?

6.  Basically, the game only ends when Avery decides he has had enough, or if you roll "exactly" a two when  you are at the end of the footstool.

Got it? Let's play!

It was interesting to note that when we asked the other kids if they would like to join us, Zoe quickly brushed us off with the look that screamed: "You guys are such losers!", and Elliot decided just to watch at first.  He was intrigued by the game, but you could tell he needed to see how it was played before he would commit.  




Where is your sense of adventure?

After a few rounds, Elliot did join us, but quickly left again after losing a battle against the dinosaur, where he was only allowed to roll two die and the dinosaur three.  Of course, the winner of the battle was the one with the highest total, and Elliot, seeing the bias in this situation, left screaming "the game is rigged!".

Going back to my earlier question, why was it so hard, or impossible in Zoe's case, to play this game?  Why is it that the older we get, the less comfortable we become with situations where we have no control? It was interesting to watch Elliot teetering between finding nonsensical games compelling and having an overriding need for consistency and reasoning.  It saddens me to think that this stage of make-believe has already ended for Zoe and that for Elliot it is quickly coming to a close.  But it is even more devastating to think that I can no longer remember all the games or the many worlds of make-believe that they created.  I can only hope that like this past Sunday, I ignored my adult sensibility and became lost in a world where 6 + 6 = 4.