The Endless Snot-Filled Winter

WILL THIS WINTER EVER END??!

 
I can tell it's been a rough winter. If I didn't know it myself, Facebook would've tipped me off. My newsfeed generally consists of:

 
a) screenshots of the weather network to show how "nope, nope, nope" cold it is out there
b) updates about friends' kids' illnesses. Antibiotics! Another trip to the ER! More puking!


With all the rashes and ear infections and flus flying around, I think I was able to keep all of two social engagements with the kids the whole month of January. In our case, I'm not sure if it was many colds, or one big long one, but there were runny noses and crabbiness aplenty.  Poor little tykes.


Of course, one would think we could take advantage of these cold, sick days indoors by wrapping up in a blanket together on the couch all cozy-like and reading our favourite books. And we do, for about 15 minutes. Then the rest of the day looks more like this:

(Big Bro likes to wear his sledding helmet around the house. May as well, since at this rate we won't get out to do any sledding)


Of course, I got sick too. Quelle surprise, considering I've got kids barking and sneezing directly on my eyeballs. No amount of handwashing's going to help with that. Thankfully, I have a very considerate son who saw my suffering and attempted to make me feel better. He came to me with the Neti Pot and offered me some tea. Ew. No thanks. Appreciate the sentiment though.


Anyway. I don't have much else to say on the subject. I just needed  to have a bit of a rant, because it's only January and it's already been the longest, coldest, shackwackiest winter of all time.

Getting Back into Kid Mode

Not long ago, someone posted a meme on Facebook with a picture of an awesome couch cushion fort, with the caption "Building Forts: Admit it-you miss doing it". It made me think of how, when you have kids, you can get back into doing all these cool kid things, all while maintaining some sort of dignity, because you're doing it for them, after all.


Christmas recently passed, and it was the first Christmas in which Big Bro "got" it; the whole Santa, presents, countdown to Christmas morning thing. I just may have been more excited than him, but the whole season had a renewed energy to it, and it reminded me of how cool it is to have kids in your life. You can get back to "kid mode", in case you lost it along the way.


For instance, how fun is it to go to the local heritage village museum where they have miniature ride-on steam trains, and be able to walk right up and ask for a ride? I might've lined up for a ride if I was kidless (as I'm sure many do already), but I unfortunately learned to be embarrassed doing goofy stuff in public once I hit Junior High, so I know I'd be laughing nervously and playing it up so that everyone knew I was being IRONIC by being excited about riding a little train.


Now, though, I have a young son-- HE loves trains! Well! Must put my needs aside and take the little lad for a train ride. But of course I'll need to accompany him. Yes, I know, how noble of me. And, while we're at it, let's treat the dear to a second lap around the track so Dad can have a turn he can really soak in the experience.

We were in Kingston over the summer at a hotel with a water slide. Big Bro is still too small for them just yet, so I felt a little embarrassed going alone while he stayed and watched in the little pool. A little embarrassed, I said; not enough to not go several times. But I'll feel so much less like I need to avoid eye contact with the teenage lifeguard once I'm accompanying the kids.


Then there's the local enormous play gym we frequent. 3 storeys of padded climbing and sliding mayhem. It's not for everyone, I admit (even me, I avoid it like the plague on ped. days). In one area, though, there's a slide so long, you can't see the bottom from the top. Accompanying Big Bro on his sliding adventures, I ended up crashing into him as he waited for me at the bottom. Good thing it was just him. I can see the headlines now: "WOMAN IN MID-THIRTIES PLOWS INTO INNOCENT CHILDREN WHILE SLIDING"... but wait! I'm a parent! I was just accompanying my kid! The "weeeee" was for his benefit!


Go-karts. Reading in a circus tent in the living room with a flashlight. Tobogganing. Couch cushion forts! And then there are the kids' cool new Christmas presents that we got to try out. I've caught Hubs a few times enthusiastically in the zone making a block tower with Big Bro... only Big Bro was long gone.

Not all kid stuff is fun to us adults, of course-- but the stuff that is, we can now do it with heads held high, because we're doing it for the kids. Or at least that's what it looks like, which is good enough for me.

Family Pictures

Who here has gotten family photos done lately?

Leading up to Christmas, many families get the famous Family Pictures done-- partly because they look so great on Christmas cards. For loved ones you don't see often, it's also a way to say, "Merry Christmas, and by the way, this is what we look like these days".

I love getting the family photographed any time of year, though, especially with the kids at an age where they change almost daily. I want to remember these days-- the good parts, at least (of which there are many, of course).

Earlier this year, I won a free one-hour photography session, which I redeemed in October to take advantage of the beautiful Fall colours.

When I received the gallery from which to choose the prints I wanted, I was overjoyed at the results:

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My beautiful family! My handsome little boys! I just love them so much! I could've burst, I was so proud of how delightful they were, all smiles and full of life playing in the leaves. What an amazing photographer we had, who could capture all these moments that will make me misty-eyed for years to come.

Ohhh yeah. These were totally going on Facebook, and in my Christmas cards.

Although... if you've ever done a photography session with small kids (especially in the woods), you also know about those other photos that don't make the cut:

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Never mind that, though. I'm sure I'll remember those parts without having to put them on canvas in artistic black-and-white and display them on the wall. I'll also probably remember how I can-canned around like the Looney Tunes Singing Frog behind the photographer to get some of those smiles.

The main thing is, we got the highlights of the hour that show us how we all are at our best (maybe my hair was a little frazzled by then, but who are we trying to kid, anyway). Those heart-melty memories are the ones you want to hold onto.

Although, now that I think of it, a Family Pictures "Blooper Reel" would be hilarious. Talk about a coffee table book. That'd be something to show the kids one day. 

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PS: Fun fact: the above picture of Big Bro lying down in the leaves actually DID show up in our gallery of proofs, and I even contemplated buying it... the snot bubble was a bit of artistic license on my part, though I say thank goodness for Photoshop at the start of cold season.

PPS: Did you see the side bar? Cartoon-Coloured Glasses made top 5 in the Comic category in the Canadian Weblog Awards! Hooray!

PPPS: I should've posted this earlier, Cartoon-Coloured Glasses was featured in a very flattering write-up in the "Parenting Blogs We Love" section in the local Capital Parent magazine: http://capitalparent.ca/blog/2013/9/30/parenting-blogs-we-love-cartoon-coloured-glasses .  It's always great to hear that others see themselves in the cartoons, too. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to comment or share my posts. - J

Coffee Time

Life pre- and post- kids: I'm not the first blogger to reflect on the topic, nor am I the first cartoonist to draw on it.

But it's commented on often because it's not something you truly appreciate until you're there. Every so often, you go through an experience and it hits you how much even the little things have changed since your munchkin invasion. Usually (usually!) we remark on it all with humour. It's a different world, alright, but we wouldn't trade it.

One such example is preparing my morning coffee. Hubs and I rather enjoy a good cup of coffee, and it was quite the ritual to prepare it back in our DINK days.

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Fast-Forward to when Big Bro was born, when we bought one of those automated "home brewing systems" to make our life easier. And, in theory, it has done just that. Although...

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THREE STEPS! DISC! CUP UNDER SPOUT! PUSH BUTTON! Who forgets to put a cup under the darn thing?

Me, that's who. And not even once! FOUR TIMES to date! Rest assured, I am not exaggerating for the sake of comedy. Big Bro found it pretty funny, though. "'member when you forgot to put de cup, Mama?" yeah, yeah. Ha ha. It was ten minutes ago, but thanks for opening old wounds.

Once I've arranged kids and bowls and cereals and toasts and vitamins and bibs and trays and cut-up fruits and milk and spills and spoons that fell on the floor all while hashing out the plan of attack for the day, such a detail might go by the wayside in my overloaded brain.

Following this incident, a friend suggested (jokingly, I think) that the coffee could've been salvaged from the reservoir. Another option, I could add, would've been to just look in the microwave. There's likely a stone-cold one forgotten from the day before in there.

We love life with our kids, of course. We wouldn't trade it for all the fancy-schmancy coffee in the world. I would just like to remember to put in the &$%# cup.

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 6

(This is the final instalment of some of my observations on two-year-olds)

6. Two-Year-Olds are very observant; or, to put it another way, they don't miss a thing.

We have officially moved into the spelling-everything stage when we don't want Big Bro to know what we're talking about (it's around the same infamous time that you realize they pick up, and remember forever, any bad words you let slip).

Sometimes I'll instead attempt to communicate in code (i.e., in French or Pig Latin) with Hubs, but Hubs has to get a little more discreet about it.

Me: I put his ALLOWEEN-HAY AG-BAY in the ARBAGE-GAY.
Hubs: WHAT? ... His Halloween bag in the garbage? What Halloween bag??

*Two-year-old bolts upright, meerkat-style*

No matter, because Big Bro already found out I threw out his "Halloween bag" (read: crappy Disney advertisement full of other crappy Disney advertisements handed out at the local play gym) on his own. I didn't do a thorough enough job of disposing of the evidence, and of course it took him all of two minutes to see the handle sticking out of the trash can.

He comes to me with big baby seal eyes:

Dang.

Awww, shucks! Who did that, now?? Heh heh! Fiddle-dee-dee, how'd that get there!

Never mind that he hadn't touched it once it got in the house.

Lesson learned. They are always watching, always noticing, always remembering. They notice when you're not wearing a hat even though you insisted they wear one (argh, but, but, I don't like hats!). They notice last night's empty chip bowl and pop cans and deduce out you had junk food at some point. They notice right away if we have a guest that has no hair. Out loud, I might add. They are always watching.

Being observant isn't always a bad thing, though. Not long ago, Hubs and I were granted a date night, and I decided to dress up a bit for the occasion. It's always nice to have that effort acknowledged, you know, and my dear son did not disappoint. He noticed right away.

 

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 5

5. Two-year-olds have enthusiasm and great appreciation for "the little things" in life.

It can be inspiring to see the world through the eyes of a two-year-old. So many regular experiences we take for granted bring immense joy to them. To them, the little things are big things.

These include, but are not limited to:

- Finding a huge stick to carry on a walk
- Licking muffin batter off the spoon
- Getting to wear an adult's sunglasses
- Babybel cheese
- Getting outside in time to see the garbage truck in action
- Stuffing leaves in the sewer drain
- Trying the mail key in every keyhole at the community mailbox
- Watching their freshly-washed prized stuffed buddy bouncing around in the dryer
- Hearing their favourite book for the billionth time
- Hearing their favourite song for the billionth time (I used to like Great Big Sea's "Run Runaway"...)
- Playing Sleeping Bunnies for the billionth time ("hop hop hop..." I'll be hearing it in my nightmares)
- Pressing the elevator button, doorbell, and buttons in general
- Flushing the toilet
- Putting more toilet paper in the toilet... and then flushing it again

Many of these Favourite Things go under the umbrella of tasks they can do "BY MYSELF"; a VERY big deal.

Watch out, though, if you ever dare rob them of these little joys, intentionally or otherwise. Oh dear. One day we were out and about, heading towards an exit, and Big Bro was on his usual mission to press the button to open the door. The poor gentleman who was kind enough to open the door for us didn't know what hit him.

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 4

4. 2-Year-Olds see your safety instructions as big "Wet Paint" signs.

I admit that when I see a "Wet Paint" sign even now, I'm very much tempted to poke whatever's been painted and see if the sign is telling the truth.  "Sticky," I'll remark to myself, "story checks out."

When I was a kid, Mom told me, "DON'T look at the sun." Well. Doesn't THAT make it incredibly intriguing. Why? What, THIS sun? What happens? What if I look fast? What if I look at it between my fingers? What if... AGH, MY EYES...

Kids learn by doing, and you're just inviting a confirmation science experiment every time you try to pass along health or safety information to a 2-year-old. Now you've piqued their interest, and they certainly aren't going to take your word for it.

Mom's coffee is hot, is it? How hot are we talking? Let's stick a finger in there and see.

There's a blade in the blender, you say. Where, under all that fruit? I don't see it. Maybe there isn't one. Lemme have a little dig.

So, my head won't fit under the chair? Challenge accepted...

Sometimes Big Bro go out of his way to carry an enormous vase across the room to show me how we're not supposed to touch it 'cause it'll break. Or, he'll balance precariously on a soccer ball or start sliding headfirst down the stairs, all while letting me know that it's not a good idea to do it exactly like he's doing it. "Don't go downstairs like this, Mama," he'll say with great sing-song authority as he slides by.

Quite the rules man, he is. So I'll often find myself saying, "Don't touch. And don't touch it to demonstrate how you're not supposed to touch it."



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