Monday, September 30, 2013

Q-isms: War - Get on the Phone

As Q was falling asleep tonight, he said "War sucks. They should just do war over the phone."

This got me thinking...

Israelis - this is our land
Palestinians - no, it's our land
Israelis - nope. It's our land
Palestinians - nope. It's ours
Israelis - ours
Palestinians - ours
Israelis - ours
Palestinians - oooooooouuuuuuurrrrs!!!!
Israelis - you're so immature. This is the land of our ancestors. It's ours.
Palestinians - ours

Syria - we don't have any nuclear weapons. We don't know what you're talking about.
US - yes you do. 
Syria - no, we don't. We promise. 
US - ya well we heard otherwise
Syria - I swear on my dead mothers grave we do not have nuclear weapons
US - *whispering* check with intel to see if his mother is dead...
Russia - uhhhhh, hello? Hello! Yes, this is Russia. It's true. We were there last week and there are no nuclear weapons. We checked. 
US - oh ya??? Then how come all those people died??
Syria - uh, well you know we did have a bad case of the flu sweep through the country. 
US - hey....we checked...your mother is still alive....

US - give us Hussein
Iraq - no
US - give us Hussein
Iraq - no
US - give us Hussein
Iraq - no
US - give us Hussein
Iraq - no
US - GAH!!! Give us HUSSEIN!!
Iraq - no

Afghanistan - we hate you and your western ways
US - you're talking on the phone right now, aren't you? You're welcome. We invented that. 
Afghanistan - ...
US - ya, and how's that toilet working for you???
Afghanistan - we mean your western values, okay?!?!!
US - ohhhhhhh, like life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness!!?
Afghanistan - ....
US - how do you like the iPhone 5?? Good reception??
*click*

Quebec - we just want to be alone
Canada - but we love you...
Quebec - it's just not working for us
Canada - but, you're a part of us
Quebec - it's not you, it's us. We're just better than you
Canada - no we can work this out.
Quebec - you can have your flag back
Canada - no. You keep it.
Quebec - we don't need it anymore 
Canada - you might change your mind. Sleep on it. You might feel differently tomorrow...


Q-isms: Smart A$$

Me:  Hey, Daddy is taking you to hockey tonight but do you want me to come and watch too?
Q:    I don't care
Me:  Oh....you don't care? Okay...so if I stay home and watch t.v., you're okay with it?
Q:   Well I want you to come, but if you have other stuff that's fine.
Me:  How about, "Mommy, I'd like for you to come"?
Q:    Okay

Me:  How's dinner?
Q:   Fine, I guess.
Me: Well, I guess you don't have to eat it and can go to bed without dinner...
Q:   No, I really like it. It's good.

But then...

(after a trip to Hawaii where he went snorkling every day with his dad)

Q:   Mommy, remember Dory from Finding Nemo?
Me:  Yep, I sure do...
Q:   Ya, I saw her!

Oh my goodness, what a conflict that must be going on inside that little 9 year old head of his. One day, moody and too cool and then the next, he's calling me mommy and thinks he's met a fish from a cartoon. It reminds me he's still my little boy, even though he swooshes his head to the right to get the hair out of his eyes, and says "I don't care" more than any one I know.

Saturday, September 28, 2013

What is Going ON?!?!?!?!?!?

I've been so troubled this past week by things going on in this world.  Not even this world, but in my city, my country.  It makes me sad that this is the way things are going.  My heart breaks and mourns for my son's generation, and every generation after because we're losing some fundamental values - like compassion and respect. 

Earlier this week, a friend of mine who is almost seven months pregnant was walking across the street, when she was hit by a car.  Now, she's fine, completely fine.  But the point is, the guy who hit her rolled down his window and yelled, "Sorry..." as he drove away.  One witness didn't stop but asked if she was okay as he passed on by.  Even the police didn't feel the need to investigate - because she wasn't in a coma or worse...  I guess they're too busy arresting people for having parking tickets and such.

A friend of mine wrote on her fb page that a car was in the middle of an intersection blocking traffic.  Car after car after car drove past, not bothering to see if they needed anything.  My friend stopped to see if she could help, only to find one of the passengers was having a seizure.  Everyone else just drove on by...too busy or just not bothered enough to care.

Five children (that we know about) in Canada in the past year have committed suicide over claims that they have been bullied to the point of no return.  The victims of bullying.  Let me state the obvious for what I will say next maybe will shock some.  It is horrible, horrible, horrible that anyone thinks it's okay or derives any delight from belittling, teasing, or hating someone else.  Especially to the point where someone thinks the only out is to kill themselves.  It's horrendous.

However, it's also horrendous that no one thought to do anything about it until these children killed themselves.  All these anti-bullying commercials, in my opinion, glorify the bullying and glorify the bullying.  Instead, let's teach these children how to defend themselves (with words, of course), how to stick together.  Let's teach children self worth, so that when they're met with adversity - they know otherwise.  Let's teach children that shitty things are going to happen in this world, that not everyone wins, that succeeding in life is really, really hard work.  Let's teach them that failures happen.  Let's help them find somewhere to fit in.  If I had tried to fit in with the popular kids in high school, I would have been teased for sure.  Instead, I found a small group of like minded souls who enjoyed the same things I did, who had my back - and so it didn't matter when people laughed at me, or said something bad about me.  They weren't my people and so what they thought didn't matter.  And to this day, it does not matter.  

Then let's teach them how to get up, brush themselves off and try again.  Let's show them what competition looks like and how to practice even harder when they lose.  Let's show them how to work hard, fail, work harder, fail, work harder and fail again.  Because it seems to me, kids don't know what adversity is.  Everyone gets a ribbon at the race, because everyone showed up.  

What worries me even more is that I fit into this group just as much as anyone else.  I try to shield my child from everything, because isn't that my job as a parent?  Q thinks bullying is when someone thinks something other than him.  "S wanted to play on the swings at recess, but I said no, I want to play soccer.  He's such a bully."

Dinner with some friends this week was also quite enlightening.  No longer can anything with any inkling of Christianity be in a public school.  I understand the separation of church and state, whether I agree with it or not, but you cannot even mention Santa anymore.  Children refuse to stand for the National Anthem, because it's not theirs or because it mentions God in it.  

But...

These same schools will equally celebrate Eid, Ramadan, Chinese New Year, Diwali, and Vashaki.  Don't get me wrong...I don't mind this, and even welcome it, because it's so fascinating to learn about other cultures.  The problem that I have is that our culture is becoming *offensive* in our own schools, our own country.  Our culture is slowly being erased.

What's going on?

How do you make a difference in a world where people no longer care?

Where do you even begin?

How do you teach your children to care? 

What do you teach your children?

I think we're teaching our children to be pansies.  We're teaching them to give up when the going gets hard.  We're teaching them not to stand up for what they believe in, because we're not doing it ourselves.  We're leading by example.  We're walking by people who need our help without a second glance.  We're every man for himself.  It makes me so sad.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Parenting a Tween - Separation Anxiety (mine)

More on the ever evolving relationship between me and my son...

My Q just came home after spending a week in Hawaii with his dad, and dad's new gf.  I missed him like crazy.  It was the longest we've ever been apart.  Eight whole days.  

He says he didn't miss me (even though he's been sitting on the couch beside me every chance he gets).  And I kind of get it...I mean, he was snorkeling with turtles and Dory for a week.  I wouldn't miss me either.

It's also a natural progression in our relationship.  

Wouldn't there be a problem if he cried himself to sleep every night because he missed me?  

I imagined him coming home and us spending quality time together playing board games and watching movies and laughing over milk and cookies.

Instead, he asked if he could go play with the neighbor's kids.

I realized that this is how it's supposed to happen.  This is how it always happens, with every parent and every child ever in the history of parents and children.  Children grow up, and eventually they move away.  It would be unnatural if they didn't.  While I'm mourning the loss of my baby, he's feeling pretty okay with venturing out on his own a little more.  

My job now as his momma is to just be.  


I mean, he is only 9 so it would probably be pretty irresponsible of me to leave him home alone and have him make his own dinner.  


But...

I should be proud that there's a pretty huge chance he's not going to be living in my basement, with an extensive action figurine collection when he's an adult.  

It's my perspective that has to change on the situation.  

I think this is probably why God imagined a husband and a wife raising children together.  As the children grow, the parents' relationship with each other changes and evolves, and grows stronger.  Meanwhile, my relationship with my blog is growing...

Monday, September 9, 2013

What You Gonna Wish For?

Last week, I was in need of a plunger.

We have one of those new toilets, where you can flush a lot or a little.  Every time I flush a little, I feel like I'm saving the world, so it's awesome in that sense.  But...if you flush a little when you should have flushed a lot, it tends to get baaaaaacked up.  Add a nine year old boy who feels the need to use half a roll of T.P. - well, we were in need of a plunger.  

I go to the hardware store in my wedges and my cute polka dot skirt, and I'm all like, "How on earth am I going to find a plunger in here???  This place is huge..." when I stumble upon plungers all the way down the aisle.  This adorable little boy had decided to plunge the whole plumbing aisle, yes, but I prefer to think someone upstairs with a humour was looking out for me, and kind of went "uhhhhhh, here they are!!!!"

So I go home and I plunge.  And I plunge.  I plunge for a good ten minutes.  There were a few dry heaves in between, I'm not going to lie...but I plunged that toilet until we could flush without any fear of overflow.

And I thought to myself, "Well, well, well, reason 593 why I do not need a man!"  

Here's a funny thing:

When I fell for Mr. Ex, I was really looking for someone to take care of me.  In fact, I've always been attracted to men that were older than me, for that very reason.  I wanted to be taken care of.  Mr. Ex was financially stable.  He had a career.  He owned a house.  To me, these things seemed to equal security, safety and happiness.

Turns out...they didn't.

My dating life has been a search for someone to take care of me.  I realized this recently.  I've silently been asking for, waiting for someone to take care of me.

The funny thing?  While plunging that toilet, I realized I found that person.  

She was with me all along.  Somehow, without even noticing, I became the very person I needed.  

I'm not quite sure if I was crying from the overwhelming smell or from the overwhelming pride welling up within me.  It's funny how you get what you ask for.  Sometimes, you need to be prepared for what you ask for.  I was looking for a knight in shining armor.  

Instead, I found myself.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Back to School 2013/2014

Where does the time go?
 
My baby, who it seems like just started crawling yesterday, is in grade 4.
 
Grade 4.
 
*Sigh*
 
Back to school is notoriously hard for us in the M household. 
 
The week before starts with major anxiety (Q's yes, but I'm not going to lie...me too...), tummy troubles, mood swings and tear.
 
Oh, the tears....they kill me.  They break my heart.  I want to say, "Okay, okay, you do not have to go to school.  Ever.  Who needs to read and write?"  And then common sense gets the better of me and I remember that even if I want to keep him home, it's kind of well, isolating and uhhhh, illegal. 
 
Sooooooo, we try to deal with it in other ways.
 
We do some cognitive therapy (who knew that depression in my early 20's would come in handy when parenting!!!).  As in:  What is the absolute worst thing that could happen?  Like the most outrageous, ridiculous, impossible thing that you can think of?  And then let's work our way back from there.  Forgetting your homework isn't such a big deal when you stat by being kidnapped by aliens.  And then we can kind of laugh about all the ridiculous scenarios.  Not to make light of the situation, but to acknowledge that by talking about things, you immediately take some of their *scary* away. 
 
We went to the school early on the first day so that we could walk around before too many people were there.  We became familiar with the surroundings again.  We found his class.  We came prepared. 
 
He was super moody the night before, and I was beyond frustrated.  I received some really good advise though, from some moms with 8 kids combined.  And so I tried it.  Even though I was irritated and angry, I said...
 
"Q.  I love you so much.  I always have and always will.  Nothing you do will ever, ever change that." 
 
Slowly, his mood changed. 
 
He said..."Mommy.  Can we talk about school before I go to sleep?"
 
And so we did.  We talked about his friends, the teachers through the years, his classmates, his favourite class, recess, lunch, everything.  We talked about everything.  For a long time.  I told him I was so proud of him and he was so brave for tackling this fear head on.
 
There were minimal tears.  A few the night before, but he did not burst into tears while standing in line.  He did not cling to me.  Even other parents commented on how well he did. 
 
I think I'm getting the hang of this parenting thing...although every time I think I've reached a comfort zone in parenting, everything changes and I realize I have no idea what I'm doing. 
 
Here's to Grade 4.  May it be the least stressful year yet!!
 
 
Well....there were no tears but I guess a smile was too much to ask!!!  Cool kids don't smile, and I'm pretty sure I was lucky the two of them stayed still long enough to take a memory :) 

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Q Makes me Brave

It is sometimes the smallest things that teach you the best lessons.
 
The other night, it was super hot and muggy in the house and so I went to open the window to get some fresh air in the house.  I had to think twice before opening it because I was a little scared that it wasn't safe. 
 
The funny thing is that when Q was home the night before I didn't even think twice about having the window open.
 
I wondered why.  I mean, it's not like Q was going to protect me if a raccoon decided to join me in my bed, or a burglar decided he just had to have my uh...extensive collection of cardigans...
 
And then it hit me...
 
Q makes me brave.
 
With Q, I am a momma bear. 
 
I am his protector. 
 
His defender.
 
He makes me stronger than I ever knew I could be. (and that's saying something...because I'm kind of like, a scaredy cat...and I obsess over everything...I mean, sleeping with a open window scared me for crying out loud!)
 
But I know that I am capable of protecting him with all of my being.
 
I would run into burning buildings, I would lift a car over my head, I would fight swarms of bees (even though I joke otherwise about that one...ha...ha...ha..), I would fight the bad guy, I would wrap up a gaping wound (without puking), I would defend his honour, I would give him a fighting chance.
 
I love him more than I could ever imagine possible. 
 
So, Life Lesson:
 
Don't mess with momma.