hungry

What do you think this kid asked me, as she began posing for this picture and I asked her to smile - I'm hungry, mommy! Can I have a snack? She wanted to have a snack while posing for a picture! We had just spent the morning getting ready for her Christmas concert at her school, had breakfast, put hair in pony tails, dressed up and were about to put on boots and mitts and all that jazz... and yet, as soon as we took a little break from the hustle and bustle of the morning... it was "I'm hungry!" This one is so funny like that! We cannot leave the house with her if one of us is not carrying a snack in a pocket or a bag. She is always hungry. It does not matter if she's just had breakfast or just finished a plate of dinner. Stella's first words, when heading somewhere, anywhere ... even if we're out for a matter of a few minutes... are guaranteed to be "I'm hungry!" She's hungry in the car. She's hungry on a walk. She's hungry on a bike. She's hungry as soon as she leaves our house, it seems. It's crazy and funny at the same time. On a positive note, if we ever get stuck in a snow storm, or get lost in the middle of nowhere, or are stranded on the side of the road... at least I know that our car glove compartment is loaded with non perishable snacks, nuts and sweets! My version of first aid kit :-)

throwing a birthday party for a kid 101

I have to come out and admit it. Stella turned four this year and I had been too busy, every year right around this time, to throw her a birthday party. Every year for the last three years Kaspar has asked if we were going to have a birthday party for Stella? But instead of a party she has had  - the amazing cup cake day (which almost passed for a birthday party, if only Kaspar had kept his mouth shut) with her godparents; a day of Christmas related activities at Latvian school; and a morning decorating gingerbread houses, but NO birthday party. I cannot say that SHE cared much. On no. She was just fine with it. I'm not sure if she even remembers the first two years. Highly doubt it. But Kaspar does. And he has been THOROUGHLY outraged that there have been birthday parties for him (and several that he can think of!), but none for Stella. Therefore, despite the business of being too busy during this season of fun and giving and doing and and partying... all that jazz... we were set out to have a birthday party for Stella this year.

But it ain't as easy as it sounds.

There are the different crowds, the list making, the place picking, the food making, the theme and the invitations, the cake and the loot bags, the games that need to be organized and the prizes to go with the games, the decorations and the thank you cards that follow. Oh, dear God! These days throwing a birthday party can seem as daunting as organizing a wedding. Whatever happened to just boiling a few hot dogs, feeding the kids some sponge cake and then letting them run wild for a few hours on a sugar high while parents sit around comparing battle wounds and horror stories? I'm most certainly pro the latter version. Is that the old fashioned way of doing things? Doesn't anyone ever do that anymore? Come on...

Who has the time to figure out who is ON the list and who is OFF the list. Of course the kid will want to invite the entire class, if given a chance. Living in Toronto, that would be about 28 kids (plus siblings if they're close in age). And then there are the kids in the family and the kids of closest friends and the kids from music class and the ones from ballet class... and the list goes on. No way! I suggest that you don't even open that can of worms. Kids should have no say in who they invite! And as I found out this year, the best way of making sure you don't end up with too many kids in your house (even if you, yourself are making the list) is to send out invites no more then a week ahead of time.

As for picking a place for the party - there are so many places that will offer to host a party for your children, but I've learned to be weary of these. They are similar to airlines advertising seat sales to Florida during school break. Once you add all the bells and whistles, make it round trip v/s one way and pay various taxes - oh my! Even though you're guaranteed to have something broken in the house once a handful of four year old's on sugar trample through and you are certainly going to have some sticky floors and sticky walls, too, if you're lucky... it's still way better to have it in the house then to have to pay the "surprise" bill at the end of the day. At least you know what you're dealing with, right?

I have no idea when and why pizza became the food of choice for kids' parties, but ordering pizza for a party does seem to be the rule of thumb these days. I don't like it, necessarily. My complaint is that you only have two kinds of choices. There are either the cheap, chain, bad for you, fast food type of pizza places that cost parents mere pennies a slice, but don't taste any good and the list of ingredients for the sauces and the doe include variety of words that are not only NOT readable but most certainly not understandable (unless you have a chemistry degree). The second option are the "little guy" pizza places, most of which are gourmet pizzas with variety of fancy toppings, spiced sauces, fancy meats, thin crusts and prices that are through the roof. What happened to the happy in-between? Where did they all go? Kids just want something bread-y with tomato sauce and cheese, how had can it be to bake that? Where did all those Italians with their family run little pizza places disappear to?

Oh... I'm running out of time tonight.... This one is to be continued... 

finally some halloween details

To be very honest... I am NOT one of those "OH MY GOD, I LOVE HALLOWEEN" parents. In fact, if I had a choice, I'd probably ignore Halloween and Valentine's Day and a whole bunch of other commercially viable holidays in this lovely country of ours. The commercial hype and crowd mentality of it all truly does frighten me, especially so, when there is no substance to it in the first place. ( a topic for a whole different blog...)

However, I have kids. And kids like carving pumpkins. Kids like getting dressed up. Kids like walking around in the dark. Kids like candy and decorating and spider webs and spooks and masks and...  kids like all those mysterious and scary creatures in the wood... and the neighbourhood, too. And kids make one adapt and make one make compromises. Right? Right! So, here I am... going out for Halloween with my kids and making the most of it.

Our Halloween saga began some weeks ago, when we began talking about getting some pumpkins and Kaspar insisted that one pumpkin was not enough. His main reasoning was that he might want a "scary faced" pumpkin, but Stella might be afraid and might want a "princess faced" pumpkin instead. By the time we got to the pumpkin patch, we were already picking out THREE pumpkins. Somehow I missed the argument for that one! But once we had picked out three - the mommy, daddy and kid pumpkin - the obvious was inevitable... WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER KID? Let me tell you, that one is very hard to argue against, especialy if you DO have two kids! Lol! So, we ended up with four carving pumpkins and only one carver,  because the other one is on the road :-) And you must be kidding yourself if you think that carving one will be plenty. Faces and mustaches, eyes and eye lashes, cheeks and noses, chins and patterns, tongues and bow ties were drawn on all four, and all four HAD TO BE carved! Only when the face on the last one got rubbed off by mistake I had my chance to pipe in and suggest we carve a few houses on it, instead. My, seemingly innocent suggestion was followed by Kaspar's idea that he should be the one carving the third pumpkin, because, after all it's his pumpkin... is it not?

If you've never been a mother/father standing next to a six year old waving a knife around, puncturing and slashing a pumpkin, you might know what I felt like. I was freaking out! I was very afraid that he'd cut himself. Or cut Stella in the excitement of it all. But in the end it worked out ok. He carved a great big T shape into the largest pumpkin and announced that it was a headless cowboy in a dress (when the top of the pumpkin was removed it grew a head!) That was his logic! I had to respect it. Until our neighbour Chris came by and asked point plank "WHAT in the world happened to THAT pumpkin?" And I almost cracked, I came close to laughing out loud. But Kaspar was right behind me and I managed to wink at Chris and got Kaspar to give him the whole story. (Chris has two kids, so, he quickly caught on!)

By the time the clock struck six on Halloween night, I was scrambling... trying to get the kids ready, giving out candy to the first little Halloween wanderers, layering t-shirts and sweaters under costumes, finding gloves and hats and trying to set up my friend's hubby (who's new to this country and new to the whole Halloween experience) with detailed instructions on what is to be done, when the children come to the door. After all I had to take my kids out! We got out onto the street shortly before 7pm. I was already exhausted!

We attempted to keep a calm pace down our street, together with our friends, who have a two year old, but very soon realized that my kids are not going to let me keep a calm pace. Stella was considerably faster then a two year old, but Kaspar was pretty much five houses ahead of us no matter how fast Stella and I were going. I was either going to have a "screaming, falling, scraping her knees and freaking out three year old" on my hands or I was going to loose my six year old. On the next street over I ran into my friend Lily, oh what a blessing that was! We split the kids. I was the designated parent of Flower Child and Tinker Bell while Dorothy and Storm Trooper stormed ahead at great speeds, through the streets with Lily. It took us nearly till 9 pm just to walk the length of the famous Lavinia avenue. Lavinia avenue is well known in the neighbourhood for it's absolutely fantastic decorations, effects and community involvement in the Halloween festivities. Truly - it did stand up to the expectations. The previous two years Steve had taken the kids out and I had stayed home to give out candy, so I had missed the exquisite scenes on Lavinia. It was quite something! There were haunted houses; there was wine and beer and even mulled rum & cider offered to parents at different locations; there were buildings with screens in all the windows and haunting video effects; there were people (yes, live people) crawling out of graves in their front yards; there were at least seven movie screens with cartoons for kids of all ages; witches and goblins crawling around in the bushes and scaring the living daylights out of me... it was a crazy, crazy street to be on. And the crowds were just frightening. There were line-ups heading into some of the houses! If we gave out about 400 bags of chips and another handful of candy at our house, the houses on Lavinia must have been giving out candy in the thousands. Of course the kids loved it!

We came home with enough candy to last us a couple of years. Quite seriously, we had so much in the big bag that my wrists were hurting from carrying all of it around for the couple of hours. I was thrilled that Kaspar was more then willing to generously share his loot with our friend's who had helped us give out the candy at our house while we were away.

It was a nightmare trying to get the two of them in bed after. I don't think parenting is fair. Not when Halloween falls on a Monday night. And don't even start me ... the Tuesday morning all hell broke loose... Not fair. Halloween should never be on a week-day. I might have to start a petition.

ottawa

We spent long week-end in Ottawa, taking in the sights, sitting outdoors on sunny patios, going to a friend's wedding, and thanks to a great "hotwire" deal, swimming in the hotel pool for hours and hours at a time. Kaspar outlasted us all, having spent 3 hours (nearly two with me and the last hour and a half with Steve) in the pool at one time! He's getting to be a decent swimmer, I must admit.

The biggest surprise for me was the war museum (not counting the surprise our friends sprung upon us by literally getting married on the patio of the university pub!!!), which I had never seen (I am talking about the War museum now) and turned out to be an absolutely astounding, gorgeous piece of architecture! We spent some time there, walking around, exploring and enjoying the gorgeous warm temperature. Stella even found some dandylions :-) It felt more like spring, then fall... if one ignored the bright yellow and red trees everywhere.

On the way home we went pumpkin hunting. It turned out that all the pumpkin farms, the places that actually advertised "pumpkin picking" for the kids, were actually more like little Halloween entertainment one-stop-shops with petting zoo's and haunted houses and scary stories, face painting and bands, rides and hay rides and you name it.... they had it all. Best of all they all seemed to have 18$ - 20$ per person entrance fee!?! All we wanted was a couple of pumpkins. Or should I say -  All I WANTED was a couple of pumpkins? The strange part is that most of them did not even sell pumpkins!!! The good thing was that at 4 pm pretty much all of them were closing for the day or about to close for the day any minute and that was enough to talk the kids out of going in. Of course, my line was pretty much the: "There is no way I am paying 80$ for the family to enjoy this entertainment for ONE hour or LESS!" I know, I know.... absolutely nasty of me.

In then end, though, we got a hold of our friends Sue and Jeff at the farm (they run an organic farm in the area and have AMAZING VEGGIES!!! Just like the stuff I used to taste back at home, when I was a kid!) near Gananoque and the kids were more then happy to settle for a short play date with their kids. I was thrilled! Nearing Gananoque we did find a farm that was selling pumpkins and even though there was no one home (this being Thanksgiving Monday after all!), they had left a big line up of pumpkins in the front yard and a little jar of $$$ for those who want to buy. The kids picked a little family of four pumpkins ( the family, of course) and we were on our way to the farm for a little run around and stop over before taking on the last two hour stretch to Toronto.

The stop was much needed, as it turned out :-) Not only the kids got to play and go a little crazy with Mara and Neville and not feel too "stir crazy" in the car, but we pretty much crashed the end of their Thanksgiving dinner and were offered full plates of food and wine and a break in the trip that was much welcome. There is nothing better then  time spent with good friends!!! (even if we did crash their party, almost unannounced...)

After much detested traffic slow-downs and exhausted from the week-end out of town, we arrived home shortly before midnight with two children very much asleep in their car seats and a car full of pumpkins and other organic veggies from Roots Down Organic farms and happy... just very, very happy. :-) Happy belated Thanksgiving to the family we never met up with (sorry!) and everyone else out there and listening. We are very thankful for this day and the time we have in this world!!! Thanks!

fishing and the last week-end before school

The kids had the most amazing time last Labour day week-end. We spend about 4 days at our friends cottage with other kids and boats and forests and water and fire works and good weather despite the dismal forecast that was warning us not to head out of town. I'm so glad we did not get scared off by the weather forecast!!! Kaspar was probably the only one that caught any fish the whole week-end, but everyone was happy just fishing, none the less. It was very hard to come back to the city and get back to the schedule, start school, daycare ... but I'd say the hardest thing was starting another week of WORK!!! I'm allowed to complain, too!

We have been going to the Lake house on Healy Lake for years now ... and it was fun reminiscing with my friend Christina about the times before kids and the times, when we went up there with the kids as babies. Times change. Kids grow. So fast! Last summer Kaspar was still unsure about the water, this summer we could not get him out of the water. He spent hours and hours swimming and snorkeling and playing. Stella was always cold and still only floating in a life jacket. I bet it won't be long before she trades the life jacket for water wings and then swims on her own. Emils is already old enough and serious enough to take the others (even little Stella) on a little canoe ride along the coast of the lake while we sit on the deck watching! What a great few days... I will miss summer.

The kids also went on a long hike with dads one day and brought back not only snake skin but two gorgeous deer antlers! That was quite the find. I went mushroom hunting, but despite my somewhat decent knowledge of wild mushrooms in Latvia, I did not dare pick any, even though I could no complain about the finds in the vary small radius of the little cottage property.

We took a whole ton of pictures and avoided a whole many storms. And besides fishing and swimming - ate well and stayed up late and talked for long hours and laughed a lot and argued well, too. The kids had a time of their life - learning to ride a boat and learning to dance with sparklers, building fires and peeing n trees and sleeping in hammocks and sharing sleeping bags at night. Riding the boat under the stars and star gazing off the dock. We will have awesome memories for years to come! Thanks CGZ and EZ and EGZ and MGZ!!!!!

Kaspar's first day of GRADE ONE! I'm worried. All day... just this little worry in the back of my mind... what if... what if... what if... Of course, I know it's silly to worry like that. Of course, I know that I have done all I can do as a parent to make him ready for the day and for what is to come. Still... I have been thinking about him pretty much every minute of the day. It begins with all the little things like getting a lunch packed and making sure he will like what I packed and making sure he can open the lunch boxes himself... sharpening his pencils... getting a clean shirt and pants ready. But those are just all the things I think about. Then there are the issues that arise from being in a school yard on his own with a slew of other kids way older then him. There is also the self confidence... and me trusting in him and letting him go and make decisions on his own. I can only hope that I have given him enough of the self confidence, enough faith, enough strength, enough of all that he may need.... It's a big step, not only for Kaspar, but also for me.

first hair cut

It's no secret that my kids (yup, neither!) ever had any hair until they turned two. Stella has acquired her hair most recently and despite the spindly, shaggy little bit of hair that she does have, she always wants me to put it in pony tails and pin it up and put in barrettes and pins and flowers... uh. How am I supposed to explain to a very determined three year old that she simply does not have enough for a pony tail?

The other day I made the mistake of calling her little pig-tails in Latvian "peļastītes" (direct translation: mouse-tails) and she got very offended. She even shed a tear or two and asked me to apologize and made me promise never to call her "pony tails", ever, forever, never "peļastītes" again! Ever. Never. :-)

So, instead of making pony tails, we decided to take the kids to a hair dresser. For a real hair cut! Up until now I have done the cuts myself or we have just used a buzzer on Kaspars or my mom has done er best to make them sit through a cut for her... but we have never, ever, forever, ever been to a real hair salon. It was quite the event!

And one we cut the little spindly pony tails off that girl, we ended up two kids looking the same, again. :-) Not really. Stella's hair, as it turns out curls much more when it's short and tangles a lot less and Kaspar looks very proper and very ready for grade one. Happy all around! I think we're going back to Annamaria's again. Thank you, Crystal for the tip!!!

ode to parents...

I had an interesting chat with a good friend of mine today (who also happens to be a mother of two young kids!) about guns. Yes! Guns! All boys seem to have an exceptional attraction to guns. Even Stella is no exception, having grown up with a boy, that is. And the video games... and the chats with friends... and the water pistols... and Nerf guns... and Star Wars... and Superheroes... IT SEEMS LIKE IT IS ALL ABOUT GUNS & SHOOTING! There is no getting away from it, if you are about to be a parent today and have your children communicate with other kids, live in the reality of today and learn to use the computer, the internet or even watch TV... you cannot avoid the issue of GUNS. Crazy. Is it not? I only wonder how to lessen the impact of glorification of the gun to my kids? How do I let them know that there are other ways, other avenues to take? What do I do to protect then as long as I can? What do I say, when my kid wants a gun for his birthday? How do we, as parents, influence them right so that they not only know the danger of guns, but learn to realize that all this glorification is just that - GLORIFICATION. We live in a complicated world. And I have a very hard task at hand!

And then, just as I was beginning to feel like I did not have the right tools, or know the right things to day... my grandfather saved the day. Don't get me wrong, he's been dead for years! I was lucky enough to know some of my great grandparents and live for a long part of my childhood with my grandfather & grandmother in close quarters in Latvia. But what I remember the most are the stories. And some of those stories are about guns. Yes. They lived through the war and had stories to tell. And these stories, even if they might not be correct to the finite detail in my memory, are still legitimate stories. And they are the best stories to tell!!!

I retold the story of my granddad in the war to Kaspar and Stella one day, while driving in the car... after Kaspar had once again attempted to shoot and aim at Stella with his little, cute index finger. Here is the story I told:

"You know, I used to have a grandpa, too. Just like you guys have a grandpa. But he lived in Latvia a long time ago. And a very long time ago there was a war and he had to be a soldier in the war. He did not want to be a soldier, because he did not want to shoot at people. He believed that shooting at people does not make the world a better place. That's called a pacifist! But he had to be in the war anyways. Because the Russian army told him he had to. And so he joined the Russian army and became a soldier. But he still refused to have a gun. And he refused to shoot people. So, the army got very upset and did not know what to do with him. Finally they said, that he could sign up for something that did not require to shoot people. But there were not may things to sign up for. But, because he was a very good mechanic, he decided to sign up to be the "mine sweeper". Do you know what a mine sweeper does? (We went into a detailed description of mine sweeping here...) But my grandfather chose this position, because he believed in NOT hurting others and in doing GOOD for people. So, he said a prayer every time he went out in the field, asking God to protect him from a mine that could blow up and just did his job. And years later he returned from the war to his family safe and protected, without a scratch on his body! It might be magic, but you never know... maybe his good intentions protected him from all the anger and war and fighting that was going on. He chose to do the right thing and in return he was OK... what do you think?"

Uh, there were some questions and some silence as well... but I felt like I had told then the story. Maybe they will remember it for a while, maybe they will not. I pray that they do. That's all I can do, is it not?

Thank GOD for grandparents! Thank God for all that I have been taught by them and by my great grandparents and my parents... and thanks to all MY FRIENDS who are parents for sharing and helping me through these trying years! It's hard to be a parent today! It is! Thank you all for being there for me!

fire hydrants

We were driving out in Burlington/Milton area last week-end and Stella began screaming: "Look! Look! It's got a blue hat!!! Loooook, mommy, look!" I was a little perplexed, because I did not see a single person out there, let alone one with a blue hat. Should a mother be worried, when a child is seeing people in blue hats outside the window. Ha!

It turned out her excitement was triggered by a fire hydrant! It was a red hydrant with a blue top and she was so excited about it that she begged us to stop the car just to take a closer look at the thing. Yes, in our neighbourhood the fire hydrants are yellow and my kids NOTICE fire hydrants! I don't know if I am the one to blame for the obsession with fire hydrants, because I used to point them out to Kaspar when he was still a baby? Or maybe it grew with Kaspar's early obsession with fire fighters and everything that had to do with fire fighting including the hydrants on the street. Now that I think of it, I remember Kaspar as a two year old running up to fire hydrants and hugging them :-) He once even kissed one! Yes! I clearly remember how I had to have a long explanatory talk with him while he was about to throw a two year old's typical tantrum, about the fire hydrant & dog pee situation. Yikes. Well, whatever began this fixation with the silly fire hydrants, but it has transferred to Stella, too. She loves fire hydrants, too.

One day Kaspar was walking to daycare (Our daycare moved and we now have a 20 minute walk to the new location, which I have come to really enjoy with the kids. But that's another subject.) and counting the fire hydrants along the way. When we got there, he said: "Wow, the new daycare is 20 times as far as the old one! The old one was just one fire hydrant far. This one is 20 fire hydrants far." I love it! We're now even measuring distances in fire hydrants!

Wait till they see all the different colours in this picture! We're in for some excitement tonight!

the mind of a three year old

This little "monkey" has had me in tears, laughing so hard several times this last week! But the best conversation that, God help me, was not allowed to even crack a smile on my face, took place a little more then 10 days ago. (Oh I do hope she does not kill me, when she reads this later on in her life!) It went something like this:

"Mommy, you know, I have a little penis, too."

(This comment comes despite the fact that many times we have had conversations about the differences between boys and girls and all that jazz... but I can be patient!)

"Really? You do? Hmm..."

"Yes. It's just very little. When I grow up to be six, like Kaspar. It will be just as big as Kaspar's!"

She was so serious!!! I tried so hard not to laugh. Oh my! And believe me, at that moment she was not interested whatsoever in hearing that she is wrong. And just prove her point, a little later on, I found her standing in front of the toilet "I'm trying to pee like the boys do." she said. "But you're a girl, are you not?" said I, pleadingly. "Yes." as she shut the door on me. I still found a puddle on the floor later... Some fights are just not worth fighting :-)

summer

Past Sunday we were hanging out with some friends and one of them said: "the first scent of fall is already in the air..." and it made me a little sad. My kids have had a great summer, though! There have been countless day trips to various parks and attractions, pools and parties, splash pads and play dates.

And Kaspar has had a lot of "first" experiences. He swam for the first time with "water-wings" in the deep end of the pool. Then, no more then a couple of weeks later he swam for the first time without "water-wings" in a river. I think he surprised himself! He just yelled: "Look, mom! I'm swimming!" And that was that. He really learned how to swim this summer. I think he has earned swimming lessons in the fall!

Kaspar also went to an overnight camp for the first time in his life! And that was a big step not only for him, but for myself, as well. I must admit that I was more worried then I should have been. And then, when he went and was doing great... when he hardly wanted to talk to me... I felt so forgotten, so left out!!! Being a parent is a funny thing... you want those kids to become independent and grow up, but when they do just that... you're left pining for that cuddle at night, for that little kid, who NEEDS you so much. I smile and take note! Letting go is not as easy as it sounds.

Of course, camp provided Kaspar with lots of first time experiences, but a couple are worth a mention. At camp Tervete (Latvian camp in the Laurentian's) there is a long standing tradition that boys invite a date to the dance on Friday night. I had prepared Kaspar for lots of the games and things that are done at Tervete (because I used to work there myself, when I was in my teens), but I had totally forgotten about that one. I heard rumors from other parents that some of the younger kids have a hard time with the whole "date" thing and feel shy and left out, when it comes to the dance. I waited ... and wondered... and worried a little... but then found out from the camp councilors, that within minutes of finding out about the "date" rule he had bee-lined for his friend Lidija and immediately, without any hesitation, asked her to be his date for the dance. So, Kaspar has had his first date and first dance at the early age of 6. Yikes!

sliver

I must tell the story of Stella’s sliver, even if it’s just told for my own benefit, because I just know that years will pass and we will forget the drama of the “sliver in the heel”.

I must admit that I don’t even remember if it was morning or evening (see how fast the details fade…), but it was either very early in the day or at dusk… and there was my little girl walking down the stairs, barefoot, crying that her heel hurts. Sure enough, we diagnosed it as a sliver immediately, and so began the procedure of trying to get that sliver out. It was really just a little dark dot in her foot and seemed entirely benign, however she complained and complained loud! “It hurts.” & “I cannot step on it.” & “I don’t want to wear a shoe on the hurt foot.” Knowing my kids, I must admit that it was a little odd for Stella to complain so much. Usually she is the one who never cries. Kaspar is the “drama queen” of the family.

We must have spent a good hour or so trying to get it out, while she was being bribed with her favourite TV shows, chocolates, candy, ice cream and other goodies usually not readily available to my kids at the drop of a hat. But how do you convince a three year old to hold her foot still while someone pokes at her skin with sharp tweezers and a needle? It’s not easy. Believe me. After I got shooed away it was daddy’s turn. He tried and tried and did not get far either, despite his extreme patience for these things and quite calm demeanor. We managed to get a tiny little black bit out but that’s all that we got!

And then this memory came to me. A memory of someone in my own childhood saying that some slivers work their way out from under the skin themselves. However, I also know that some stay under the skin forever, like little reminders of the little accidents we’ve had as kids. I chose to believe the first. Or simply there was no other choice but to hope for the best. After all, I was not going to show up at emergency in the early morning hours with a SLIVER in my kid’s foot! It’s hardly an emergency, right? So, Stella and Kaspar were dressed and sent off to daycare (with a fair warning to the daycare staff about the very painful sliver!!!) and I went to work, hoping and praying that it will just magically disappear over the course of the day.

When we picked up the kids after daycare that day, the daycare manager Debbie was very concerned about the use of tweezers and needles and sharp objects by her staff. It turned out that several of the daycare staff (a lot of them very dear to us and mothers themselves) had tried to get the little bugger out but managed only to get a couple of little bits and Debbie was worried and sheepish about the whole procedure (I have a feeling she does not have kids herself ☺ ). I saw the relief in her face when she realized that I was not upset but thanked them all dearly for trying. We came home and started the whole ordeal all over again. The hunt for the missing sliver! The candy and bribes, the TV shows and holding her tight and trying the bribery and trying to convince her to stay still… but… you guessed it. NO LUCK. That little bugger of a sliver was stubborn and was not going anywhere.

The following morning when I woke up, I tried the magic of forgetting. I tried to pick up Stella, stand her on her two feet and pretend the sliver had never been an issue. After all, a little dark dot under the skin should have healed over by now. As soon as she stepped on the foot, I knew there was a problem. I looked at the foot and it had gotten even more red and infected and swollen around the little black dot. Both of us, the parents, had an extremely full day of work planned. Not only we were supposed to accomplish the usual chores and day-job or work, but both of us had meetings to attend and things to deliver and stuff to fetch and from that moment on I knew it was not going to be a pretty day. Our grand fight started with me wanting Stella at the hospital and thinking that Steve can take her, but Steve thinking that a sliver is no hospital matter and the last thing he wanted to do was spend 5 h at the local emergency. But at this point, I had a gut feeling that it was not going away. So there were the two fronts – one for the hospital, one against the hospital… both stressing about the work that needed to be done, both worried about our child and yet unable to come to some sort of a compromise. It was a miserable morning! Yet, at this point we did not know how miserable it will become later on…

I won the fight, if you could call it winning. We did take Stella to the hospital, but I had to take the time out of my busy day to do so. And that is just what parenting is all about, is it not?

We went to the local hospital and had a short 45 to 60 minute wait at the kids’ clinic. The doctor was nice enough, Stella was calm enough and I was hoping and praying that perhaps this ordeal could really be over in a matter of minutes. When the first nurse came in to hold down Stella (while she was in my lap, of course) I was still trying to keep a positive attitude. When the second nurse was called in and the doctor whipped out little sharp clippers, my heart sank. Even though the doctor kept saying: “this really is not that painful”, Stella kept screaming on top of her lungs and kicking and wiggling as hard as she could. And I was beginning to feel sick with pain in my own body. It was not about the threshold of pain, but rather about the fright of someone poking, clipping and tearing your skin while no anesthetic (not even local) was applied to the heel. I understood Stella. And after some time, I was the one who gave up. The doctor insisted that there was still a little bit left in there, but she had gotten out most of it. It had broken into little pieces, but had come out “strange dark wood, very brittle” she said and asked if we had black stained wood in the house. No! I was not ready to sign on for more screaming and poking, so, we left the hospital with Stella crying in my arms, resting her head on one shoulder, a huge bag for work stuff on the opposite shoulder and a wile of some liquid in one hand and a 3lb bag of Epsom salts in another. Heading back home to soak the foot, as prescribed by the doctor. The trek home on the TTC in 30+ degree heat & sun, carrying the load of Stella and the other stuff was no laughing matter. At one point I thought I was going to collapse in tears on the side of the road. But we made it. We made it home. But as soon as I had turned on some Dora (not AT ALL my favourite!) and soaked the poor little foot for a while, talked about the hospital for a while, ate some chocolates, ate some pop corn and generally speaking tried to calm down both I and her… something totally unexpected and tragic news cam through on my email. Our dear friend and neighbour, who had been battling cancer for nearly 8 months, had just passed away. We were just planning to visit him at the hospital that very next day. I cried. At this point I cried about it all… like a waterfall that will not stop… When Steve called to tell me that he is at the hospital looking for us and now also able to help out with whatever needs to be done, I just cried.

But somehow, through the tears, and through having to explain to my three year old daughter the mystery of life and death and the tears I was shedding… I managed to look at her foot and realize that indeed there was a little bit more of the dark sliver poking out from under the torn skin. I grabbed my little pointy jewelers tweezers, hunkered down almost on top of her, warned her that this was only going to be for one minute and GRABBED, almost blindly, at the dark little spot, while she was frozen stiff, screaming under the weight of my own body. She was scared, of course.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I pulled out.

Straight out of my kids foot, I pulled out a 14 mm (yes, I did measure it) long piece of mechanical pencil led that was not broken, intact, fine little perfect column of pencil lead. It had somehow penetrated her heel and stuck straight into her foot, deep in the flesh. I was so shocked that I just sat there staring at my hand for a long while. While Stella checked out her foot, slowly stood on it, walked over to the bathroom, got her own band aid and came back handing me a band aid and saying “Thank you, mommy, I think I’m perfect now. Can you put this on?”

Half hour later Stella was on her way to the daycare. But my day, or the rest of it is hard to describe… the mixed emotions of great sadness and sorrow, anger, blessing and joy… … but that is a whole other story.

oh so very very busy...

Oh, yes, summer has arrived. You'd think I'd be less busy because it's summer. HA!!! NOT!!! But I really do mean to write. And do I ever have things to write about - like for example the issue with Stellas weird sliver in the foot that landed us at a hospital and got us into one of the biggest relationship fights of the year on the same day that our dearest friend and neighbour Pino passed away. And how about the whole tale of Kaspar's first summer camp experience and how much he liked it and how he now speaks LATVIAN TO ME again. Oh, and I must not forget Kaspar's first official date to a dance. And then there are all the swimming updates... And Stella's ever so growing hair... and the battles WITH having hair...

You see, it's not like I have not thought about it. I have. Really, I have. I just run out of time. I always run out of time. Does anyone know of a place where I could buy some time? All I'm missing in my life is some more time...

picking up speed

All the hours of holding the bike and running behind him... all the screaming... the tears and anger... the fights about me not holding him well enough... the scraped elbows... the bike crashing into the neighbour's bbq... it has all finally payed off! The training wheels came off a couple of days ago and Kaspar is biking up and down the street as though he's been doing this for years already. It's amazing. The event was witnessed by our awesome neighbours (pic below) and Michelle got a high five, because Kaspar is now the proud owner of her kids' bike (her kids are well into their teens). We're going out for a family bike ride today. Yippee!!!

holidays

We just returned (well, just about, at the beginning of the week) from a little holiday in Victoria BC. What an awesome holiday. I'd love to write more, but I'm so bogged down by work I've missed during the holidays that I cannot go into details. However, the KIDS LOVED IT!!! And we miss Grandma and Grandpa EVERY day! Thanks for all the sleep! Thanks for all the time I had to read my books! Thanks for all the nature walks! Thanks for getting us to come out there on the beautiful month of May!!! Holidays are just blissful....

easter morning

Easter. Oh what a day we had! Even Mr. Grumpy Morning jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn. The first mumbling sounds of of his (usually very unhappy morning self, but somehow just delirious this morning) mouth were: "Was the Easter bunny here?" I think my kids wait for the Easter bunny with just about as much excitement as they do for Santa. And we're very lucky to not just have an Easter bunny visit the house, but our entire street of 30-some kids go out for an egg hunt on Easter morning, and it lasts the length of the whole block! We also painted Easter eggs the night before and despite ending up with a few of them on the floor, between the three of us, we managed to get through a whole two douzen of them. And best of all, we actually made it to church for 6.30 am for the Easter morning service. Ok, I do have to admit that we were about 10 minutes late... but we made it!

weather forecast by the hour

Weather forecasts... I mean hard core, hourly, wind, temperature, humidity etc. the whole nine yards. I look at them daily, even several times a day. Even Kaspar has learned to go over to the computer before he leaves the house in the morning and look up weather to know if he needs and umbrella or gloves along for the day. I've forgotten the days when such forecasts did not exist. I've forgotten to look outside and try to read the signs. I've forgotten how to live without internet... because the weather forecast just makes life with kids so much easier. Strange to think that there used to be a life, even just about ten years back, when I was not always connected to the internet. When the map to the farm had to be looked up in a map book. When the weather was judged by a thermometer outside my window and the lack (or not) of clouds in the sky. When I called people instead of texting or emailing. When I met people for coffee after work instead of meeting them on Facebook. I wonder what life will be like for my kids, when they're twenty, thirty, forty... I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter week-end!

hard to believe

A couple of days ago my five year old brings me a box of chess pieces and says: "I know this is a game and I know it has rules. Can you teach me to play it?" I was reluctant. I tried the good old: "It's really a game for older kids, even adults. I don't think you can play it yet." And when that did not work, I tried the "It's a very, very hard game to learn..." And when he still persisted, I have to admit (with shame!) that I even tried to buy him off with "wouldn't you rather watch a movie?" But he was persistent! We sat down and talked about the rules. We played a few trial games. And I still had a hard time believing that he will remember the rules and be able to play. But some four days have passed now and believe it or not, my kid is playing chess! We have not turned the TV on in days. There is no more pleading requests for video games... The only game he is interested in playing is chess. He is even willing to teach Stella and patient enough to guide her through a game that she, most certainly, does not yet grasp. But she is learning, too. I'm just so very amazed! He's not good at it yet. No, no.... I'm not suggesting it's some super natural talent or some chess genius kind of a situation. But I'm just amazed that he understand the game on a basic level and has the patience to sit there and figure out, slowly and meticulously what moves he can make next and what moves I will make. If he continues like this, he might very well get very good at it, I bet!

spring... there is nothing else like it

Yes. Spring is finally upon us. I have been waiting for it... of I have. And so have the kids. Kaspar actually had a "countdown". He literally was counting the days and the hours to the 7.21 pm on the first day of spring. You can imagine how brutally unhappy he was when we woke up to snow the next morning. :-)

Speaking of counting the days... a few nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night to some noise and discovered my sleepy son, walking around the house turning the lights on and mumbling something about having to check if things are still there... and then "I cannot tell you about it" and a little later "it has to be a surprise". He seemed really upset that I was there and it made no sense to me whatsoever.

It took me a few minutes, but I convinced him to come back to bed with me and cuddle. We needed to get back to sleep. It was only 3.45 am, after all!

Unfortunately for me, this is not where the story ends. Kaspar was wide awake (unlike me) and kept asking bizarre questions. Like "what day is it today?" and "if yesterday was seven days till a special day, then tonight, is it six days already till that day?" and so on... I was so sleepy that it took me a moment longer then usual to decipher the line of questioning. It turned out that he is counting down to my birthday. And once I figured that out all the rest of the pieces fell into place. He had been checking on the "secret place" of the "secret birthday gift" that he and daddy had bought and hid before daddy left for his tour. He still checks on it once in a while and makes me go upstairs to his room and close my eyes while he does it, but I did get him to promise me that he will not go checking on it in the middle of the night. He laughed very hard, when I told him that "birhday gifts cannot grow legs in the middle of the night and run away from their hiding spots." At 4.45 am we were still laughing... both of us!

compartments

In my studio again at 4am. The picture was actually taken by a super awesome photographer friend of mine Christina (this is her site!) and of course she was not here at 4am. But it was my studio after me having spent the entire night cleaning it up... until 4am the previous night. At 4am I finally gave up :-)

This morning Kaspar woke up, once again, in a bad mood. I swear, he's just NOT a morning person. I can relate, because neither am I. I used to hate having to wake up in the mornings, yet, I would have gladly work well into the night, if I could. That is, until my children turned me into A MORNING PERSON against my continuing PROTESTS and despite my refusal to get up before 7.30 am to feed anyone anything, let alone cook a hot pot of breakfast. Forget it! Eventually I caved. It's just as unbearable listening to whining children in the morning, as it is to cook that pot of oatmeal. Besides, I've pretty much learned to do it with my eyes shut. However, this morning I had this feeling that the "having to go school" issue was a bigger problem then usual. We talked about it. We talked about kids that can be mean. (Oh thatš a hard thing to talk about...) We hugged a lot. And got through the busy morning without a full blown temper tantrum on either front. I consider myself lucky, when we can manage mornings like this. Especially when it happens after Steve having had several nights of "late work" at the Gladstone and myself having had to do a few "all-night-ers" in the studio myself. Yup, life gets complicated, when you try to combine parenthood & job & art & career & money & classes for kids. It helps to keep lists. I find myself becoming a bit of a frantic "compartmentalizer". I know, I know... it's not a word, is it? But it helps to be one, if you need to somehow keep things organized on the go. I'm still flying by the seat of my pants...

patience

Patience in the world of "parenting" is way underrated! I will be the first to admit, that I AM NOT the most patient person, but I always believed that I have enough to get by... that is until my kids came along. The patience it takes to be calm, when a five year old keeps saying: "NO! I am not going to listen!" ~ on boy!

I often wonder how my parents did it? I know my grandmother would have simple given me a spanking for speaking like that, but my parents were never ones to slap or spank me. And I have never considered spanking a viable option in parenting, except that at times like this, when your patience is tested again and again, and again, and again... I find myself closing my eyes and counting to ten (that is what I usually teach Kaspar to do when he gets angry :-), because it sure makes me want to slap my kid on the bottom.

Oh, I was going to complain about the colouring agents they add to kiddie foods & candies and juices. Thus the picture with the green tongue. But we'll have to leave that for a later post... I have to get to work!

fashion

Our mornings are becoming more and more complicated and time consuming it seems. If Kaspar might wake up a little grumpy, then getting him into some sort of clothes is relatively easy. I grab a t-shirt, jeans and hoodie and away we go. Stella on the other hand is a diva in making. She wakes up jolly, but it's enough for me to even suggest she wear the pink underwear or the green socks to get her nose out of joint. SHE HAS TO PICK OUT HER OWN CLOTHES ~
Some days picking out the colour of underwear or socks can take up to 10 minutes. In my frustration I've considered buying ONLY white underwear from now or some other just as drastic a measure. Then comes the dress v/s pants issue. Another 10 minutes. There have been days where she's in tears, on the floor, because I refuse to let her wear a summer dress without anything else under it. To her it does not seem to matter that it's -15 celsius outside. Ha! You wouldn't believe the time it takes for this little "princess on the pea" to get dressed and the patience it requires, the patience, patience, patience... I'm struggling with that myself. She does come up with some crazy outfits, too! The one in the picture is one of her best. But some have been just hideous. Occasionally I wonder what the caregivers at daycare think about her style of dress. Maybe they blame it all on the parents... What parents have to live with. Uhg.

taking pictures

If you want to know what these two are like, just look at these pictures taken on picture day at Latvian school. I love it! I get five goofy ones of Kaspar and five, pretty much all the same, shy, sweet, slight smile ones of Stella. So typical...

How many years before they learn to write? And how many before they stop writing you love notes? I received this no from Kaspars, shortly after Valentines day. Heartbreak :-) He is so proud to be able to write, even though at times it takes all my imagination to try and figure out what he has spelled (like the second and fourth line ~ I really do!) I love getting them from him. He's been writing me little notes and putting them in my bag or my pockets for me to find. It's the sweetest gesture and puts a smile on my face every time. It amazes me how thoughtful a 5 year old can be!

cold winter days

Oh, it's cold. Cold, cold, cold... out there!!! Especially, when we have to wait for a school bus for 20 minutes or more. (Most days it's more then 20 minutes, it seems!) Yup, we have been blessed with this strange bus driver, who is either extremely late or suddenly one day way too early or in a foul mood... I just don't understand this woman. I generally don't like complaining about people, but this week I have considered filing an official complaint with the bus company. The only saving grace is Kaspar, who has not whined, complained or been outraged (like myslef) by the wait (or the cold) once. Bless that kid! :-)

I was actually thinking of writing about LEGO, but after the long wait in the cold, I needed to get this out of my system!

Lego is amazing! On these cold winter days, Lego has become our life. I remember being absolutely amazed by Lego when I was a kid and it seems like my love for it has lasted and been rekindled through my kids' enjoyment of it. And the company is amazing at marketing the stuff, too, because on a certain level it becomes addictive not only for the kids, but parents, too. For example, the little Lego "surprise mini figure" packages (and they're not cheap, almost 3$!) are hard NOT to buy! And it's not only because Kaspar will beg and plead and even offer to wash dishes or clean the stairs, if I let him have a new mini figure. No, no! I like the thrill of collecting them as much as he does. I want to buy them just as much as he does. I want to see what's in the little green bag, too! And then there are Lego computer games and Lego magazines and Lego books and Kaspar and Daddy are even shooting a Lego stop action movie. Yes - Lego rocks!

superheroes and beef

My kids have gotten into super heroes. Yes. I have no idea how it happened. I did not promote it. But they have caught the bug and there is no going back. I cannot say that I have a problem with the idea itself. I mean, having "superman" and "bat girl" running around the house chasing bad guys is as fun as playing "house" or any other imaginary game. And my "spider woman" and "iron man" are very creative dressers! (see the picture!) At times the creativity even goes further as in playing imaginary superheroes. Last night Kaspar was "shiny-man" with a list of super powers that never ended, including all the super powers of all super-heroes know and recognized by a 5 year old. It's hard to keep up with the two of them and their games!

However, I have a beef with the violence it promotes. All that comes with the territory super-heroes is in one way or another violence promoting! All the shooting and fighting in the cartoons... The video games (even the ones for 4-6 years old) are about shooting, stealing, blowing things up or catching bad guys with guns and bombs and such. I just don't like that part of our culture.

I'm not one of those parents that pull all the plugs and tell their kids "You will have none of this, no matter what all the other kids are doing!" I know that living in a large city, where all the other kids are watching these violent cartoons and playing the games, it is pretty much impossible to avoid them coming into contact with this culture. And being forcefully deprived of it would just make them rebel. I speak from experience :-) But I struggle every single day with the dilemma of how much to allow? How much to deny? How to explain it to them? How to show them a different way, a different view...

Parenting is just so bloody HARD!

fun and not so fun stuff

Argh. We have been sick again. It seems like at least one of us (adults included) have been sick every single day since mid December. We seem to be passing some bug around from one another. I hate it. The dreaded SICK month of January. But February just arrived and I'm hopeful that with this month comes some relief.

However, on a happier note... I made a pig costume for a play at the kids Latvian language school while sitting on the couch and nursing my very sore throat. Stella loved it! And I kind of loved it, too. It was fun making a costume from scratch. I had not done something like this in years. And the best part is that we get to keep it, now that the play is over and done with.

Today is a snow day, but since the daycare was open, I am at work. Catching up with work that has piled up during my sick leave. I would much rather be outside watching the snow fall!

ballerina

Stella began ballet lessons last week. She just LOVES it! She loves it so much that we have to change into the ballet clothes for a little while before we put on pajamas at night. I wonder if it's the clothes she loves or the actual lessons :-) I don't know, can a three year old can tell the difference? What she can tell, though... and has pointed out to me several times... is that her tights, body suit and slippers are all different pink colours and they DO NOT MATCH. Ha! I could not believe my ears, when she first complained. It is quite adorable watching her lessons, these little mini ballerinas, all in a row walking on their tip-toes. And Stella is a very focused little "ballet girl" as she likes to call herself.

too fast, way too fast

I have this very, very clear memory from my childhood of my aunt saying "where does the time, go?" whenever she met up with us. And I remember thinking to myself that it must be something old people say. I must have been about 5 years old at the time.

Two days ago Kaspar lost his first tooth and I found myself standing in the bathroom by myself, feeling extremely sad. All I could think of was - where does the time go? He is growing up too fast, way too fast... I must be getting old! Very old by 5y old standards, for sure!

Kaspar's baby tooth on the bottom had been moving for a while now, but a couple of days ago he surprised me by asking if I can pull it out. It turns out he had conversed with some of his friends at daycare and school and decided that if he does not get it removed he might swallow it while he's asleep and then WHAT WOULD HE GIVE TO THE TOOTH FAIRY? That was a much more scary thought then having mom remove it, as it turns out.

I was not really into it. I tried with my fingers, it moved, yes. It moved a lot. But... I could not really grab onto it. It did not come out. I breathed a sigh of relief. But Kaspar was not about to give up. A few minutes later he brought me the nail clippers. "Can you pull it out with these?" I laughed. He got mad. And then I tried to scare him by saying that I will have to use my work pliers. Do you think he was scared? Not at all! He thought it was a spectacular idea. He even offered to go and find a pair for me and a few minutes later came down with a very large pair of vice grips. This time we managed to have a laugh together and I came to the conclusion that he was not going to give in and I was going to be pulling out a tooth tonight, like it or not! I tired with a pair of tweezers... and then another pair of tougher tweezers... and finally with a pair of my fine detail pliers I was able to grab on an the tooth came out very easily indeed. Kaspar was thrilled! He was beside himself!

We HAD to call daddy at WORK IMMEDIATELY. And when daddy did not pick up right away, Kaspar proudly told me that he was much braver then daddy. "Is that so?", I asked surprised. And he went into the details of the story how last summer daddy was afraid of letting me pull out a sliver with my tweezers, but you see, he was not afraid to let me pull out his tooth with my pliers. What could I say, but agree that tonight he was braver then daddy. It's amazing how well kids remember details and events. Even if it isn't from a very recent past.

They do grow up too fast and unfortunately I do not have such perfect memory... and I'll probably forget a lot of these little details too soon.