The (Not So) Olden Days

Over this last weekend, my 6 year old informed me that "in the olden days 'they' used to say flower power while making the peace sign." Probably the first time that the years surrounding my birth and childhood were referred to as "the olden days." Kind of a shock - maybe not quite ready for that at age thirty-six.

His comment reminded me of "wacky holiday week" during his summer camp this year. On "Halloween" one of the counselors wore a collar up polo shirt and ray-ban sunglasses. I asked him if he was dressed up as me during my teenage years to which he responded "yeah...basically." When did my teenage life become worthy of a costume?! I guess right around the time that the years surrounding my birth became "the olden days."

Serenity

Serenity in a bottle: Combine equal parts of love, happiness, family, self-confidence, good friends, helping those in need, time alone, relaxation, exercise, fresh air, quiet time and a clear mind.

Mix well and drink slowly. Savor your serenity.

If only it was as easy as mixing up a batch...

Boys will be boys

There was a time when that saying would have made my blood boil with images of violence, objectification of women and fraternity parties. In fact, there was a time that I would have claimed that gender differences are 80% nurture and 20% nature. My opinion on those percentages has completely flip-flopped.

As I watched (with a cup of tea and a magazine) from the safety of our family room couch today, Brian and the two older boys proved that boys really will be boys. They were playing a game of what amounted to "evil doctor." They were giving each other shots with HUGE needles represented by light sabers and using saws to cure ills. Certainly not the playing doctor of my youth.

Colin was probably two and a half when he asked me what we keep in the attic. I told him nothing, which is true. His response was "weapons?" Where did he get this idea? Oh yes Colin, I forgot about the weapons cache we have in the attic in case the aliens attack.

Blake said today that the only thing cooler than power rangers is a real gun. What?!

While I really do try to embrace this semi-violent, very physical and intimidating mode of play, it is very difficult for me. This is WAY outside of my comfort zone. No, I am not wishing I had girls who wanted to play dolls and tea party, but evil doctor and power rangers and army can get to be a bit much...

These are the times when I am especially grateful for my husband/co-parent. He is happy to play such wild games seemingly endlessly. Sometimes I feel as though it is my shortcoming that I am not always willing to be saved by firefighters or attacked by aliens. However, it's just not fun for me. It is in fact, uncomfortable for me. Therefore, I am not a very good playmate in such games because I get upset when someone gives me a "sharper shot" (a shot that doesn't just hurt for a second it hurts for a l-o-n-g time). It just seems mean to me.

Then again, I am a girl.

Obsession

In a matter of a few short months we have become a hockey family. This was not a dream of ours, but rather it started when Blake asked if he could play hockey with a few of his friends. At first we said no. This was met with dramatic upset and a clear true desire to try hockey...the likes of which we had never seen from one of our children.

So over the last few months, Blake has donned the full hockey gear each Saturday morning to skate for an hour. And I might add, he is LOVING it. I would venture to say it is his favorite hour of the week. For this, we are grateful and we are proud of ourselves for reconsidering our initial "no" and allowing him to play.

That said, let me explain what it means to be a "hockey family." Saturdays are planned around hockey. We eat lunch at around 10:45 - our first lunch that is. Then we get Blake into his hockey gear, which is a reasonably large undertaking. Then at around 11:30 we leave for the rink. At the rink, we add his skates, helmet and gloves which ensures full coverage from head to toe. Blake spends an hour out on the ice while whoever in the family that is there to watch shivers in the frigid temperatures of the rink. The highlight for Colin is when the zamboni man (whom he now has spoken with) comes out to clean the ice. Following the ice time, a now ritualized visit to McDonald's is in order. This serves as lunch #2, since lunch #1 was so early.

Hockey has permeated many aspects of Blake's life. He chose a Boston Bruins bear at a recent "Build-A-Bear" birthday party. His birthday cake - a hockey rink with players and goals. His most recent toy choice upon completing a sticker chart - a Maple Leaf player figurine which he adjusts into a new position each night before bed. Every day at least once he gets onto the NHL website to play the kids' games they have.

All of this, and we only have one kid playing hockey right now, and it's only the "Learn to Skate" program. We're really only a rookie hockey family. There are many who are up before dawn and out late with their kids in order to get ice time, and several times a week. That will be us should this trend continue with Blake and the other two boys. We could become a full-time hockey family during the season.

We thought it wholly appropriate when Blake began referring to Friday night as "hockey's eve."

Hoping for Illness

I always know it has been a bad day when at some point during the day I actually HOPE that the child (or children) who is seemingly possessed by a demon without listening skills or common decency is sick. My thinking is always that if he is getting sick, there is some amount of explanation for the outrageous behavior we are all enduring. Such was the case with Blake today. Just an all around rough day. Whining, talking back, not eating, going after Colin, flipping out after minor bumps & bruises, etc. etc. etc...

So, let's just say I'm really hoping there is a high fever or vomit in our near future. Clearly, I'm the sick one.

Family Time and Togetherness

I'm all for Family Time and Togetherness (FT & T). I know that in what will feel like no time at all, I'll be wishing we had more of it. I've heard the hype...that "these are the best years of your life"...from all the ladies on elevators in the mall. I know that "it goes so fast" and I should "enjoy them while they're young."

I also know that my current stage of life with these three hooligans ages (almost) 5 and under results in WAY too much FT & T. I would love to be able to wake up each day and choose whether we would have too much, or not enough FT & T on that particular day. I would even agree to an alternating schedule...even something like 3 days too much and 1 day not enough. Anything but this 24/7 FT&T which is overwhelming on so many levels.

I know what you're thinking (especially you parents of teenagers and empty nesters)..."oh just wait, you'll miss these days, soon they won't need you as much." I say bring it on! I'm sure there will be times when I will miss it, but if you think that it will be any more difficult than this then I say your memory is playing tricks on you!

I do love Colin's bear hugs, telling me he loves me "for all days" and slobbery kisses. Blake's spontaneous "I love you Mommy", wanting "one more kiss and hug" as I leave the room at bedtime and total enjoyment of sitting on my lap are all so heartwarming. Davis' snuggles on my shoulder, his love of cuddling his entire body into mine and need to always have me in his eyesight are wonderful.

I am sure I will miss the outward displays of love and affection, the almost constant physical contact and yes, the FT & T. But mark my words, I will NEVER look a mother of young children in the eyes on a mall elevator with a warped-memory laden face and say "enjoy them, these are the best years of your life" because even if they are, they sure don't feel like in the moments that are day in and day out in this stage of life.

The H.O.P.

The House Of Pain - in which we are solidly living right now.

We can't seem to get the kids healthy. Colin is in the worst shape right now. He was up wheezing most of the night, sounding croupy. I must say, I've seen a lot of variations of sick kids at this point, and BY FAR this is my least favorite. There is just nothing more terrifying (in the realm of "normal" kid sickness) than my child having trouble breathing, sounding like he is sucking air in through a coffee stir stick.

Blake seems to be feeling better, but only slightly. He has entered the "I'm not so sick that I'm mellow anymore, but I still don't feel great so I am going to make everyone around me miserable" stage now. So charming.

And now, Davis is coughing and maybe even has a fever. I refuse to take his temperature unless he is on fire because it just feels so wrong and invasive. I suppose he is headed toward a wheezy night too, which I am already dreading.

Ah yes, the H.O.P.