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A Day In Our Life #14 - Yukomicon and Toilet Training

8/27/2015

I am a die hard fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation. I hate Deep Space Nine; I'm not even a big fan of the original.

So when Yukomicon promises to deliver Marina Sirtis (AKA Deanna Troi) to my doorstep - I buy tickets. Three tickets( since we must pass on Next Gen to the next gen). Also the voice over for Tuxedo Mask was coming. Perhaps less of a draw but cult pop culture enough to entice me.

I was super impressed with what geeky weekend this small town can deliver! Personally I am almost convinced to sign up for Yukon's full contact medieval fighting group- and I mean full contact. The only thing you can't do is thrust cause that might kill.

The Company of the White Wolf

The Mexican was in Pokemon heaven. Met lots of other Pokeminions. He is starting to describe his family in Pokeman descriptors. For instance, there are cards (from what I can make out) that are energy and creatures have different powers and types.He asks me about Ysabeau (as though I created her superpowers) -

"Is Ysabeau a fighting type? I think she is."
"Why?"
"Because she seems powerful."

Oh yes she does.

That's why we had to bring her home when she started getting pissed off that she wasn't joining the Mario Kart tournament with the other 6 to 42 year old men.

And Ysabeau now speaks the language of Pokemon power. While brushing teeth this morning she says to me;

"You have the power of Elsa and I have the power of Olaf". [The Mexican is always comparing powers of Pokemon critters].

I hope that means she thinks ice fires from my fingers when I am angry.

Only one more week till school starts for the Mexican. We finally have been figuring out how to make the days work with a 10, a 2.5 year old and an 8 month old.

The Mexican has been enjoying a Spanish reading group, flying kites and playing with friends. He has the habit of getting super philosophical at the dinner table. He was building a fort in a friend's yard with their boys. It was quite the set up. At dinner he was reflecting on it and mused;

"Our fort....it was amazing. It was like what I imagine to be a perfect world.". Well if the world goes Pete Tong I know that all he needs to be happy is a few pieces of wood, some lawn chairs and a flag.

These Pool noodle swords with plastic piping inside make great weapons. Inspired by the medieval combat show, I even get to bat about the Mexican sometimes. He definitely has a leg up on the 5 year old next door but they sure have tons of fun.

Here Ysabeau is causing some problems at Spanish kids reading hour. She had to be removed for the sake of Spanish reading improvement.

By November I thought I would still have a 3 year old who refused the potty. That would be okay but she would have to be taught to do her own cloth diaper laundry. But we have been making headway and BY JOVE, I THINK SHE'S GOT IT.

It took some bribary, some movie watching in the bathroom. But we have had about 3 full days SANS diapers. I just put her in dresses without undies everyday and she seems to know when she needs to go.

She still needs them at night. I am trying to use cloth diapers but Ian thinks she might be a bit uncomfortable.....

Evening time is a chance, I hope, to begin calming down. The Mexican was trying to educate her about Pokemon with his character chart he is making. I can't tell if she is interested or not.

Ethan is not watching Dora the Explorer with Ysabeau and Xav (below). He said that Mexican boys call it "Exploda-dora" which I assume is not a friendly term.

Xav is super great. He is starting to get real mad when you put him in his high chair without the food actually being ready, but besides that he is a gem. His eyes sparkle and he is super accommodating of his siblings' antics.

After giving a great big smile like this he always gets so excited that he looks away as though if he kept on smiling he might combust with happiness.

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The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse: A Review of Home

8/23/2015

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I love to read. Since having children this has been one hobby among many that has taken a serious hit. I manage about two books a month if I am lucky. Beatrix Potter is now serious reading for me.

The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse by Ms. Potter was written in the Victorian era and is a lovely little piece of fiction. I am guessing it is less than 60 sentences long, but it fits into the category of classic literature for me.

If you are not familiar, Mrs. T is a little wood-mouse living her impeccably clean house, in a hedge. She is probably between the age of 30-60 and seems to live on her own without a partner (The “Mrs” though leads me to believe she was married, or is, but perhaps separated).

However, she receives many houseguests who seem to disregard her desire to keep her home neat.

I feel that Mrs. Tittlemouse is a bosom buddy of mine. A fictional friend. Her life and mine have some similarities.

First she feel asleep in her chair, then she went to bed. “Will it ever be tidy again?” said poor Mrs. Tittlemouse.

Like Mrs. T, I put a lot of heart and soul into housekeeping. Keeping home is an art- albeit a bit of a lost one. It doesn’t rate high to many people. People who have stayed at home beyond the socially acceptable maternity leaves, sick leaves, etc. usually are not considered to have “worked hard” over the course of their life.

So far, it’s the hardest job I have done. But also the most satisfying. I'm not saying this is what I will always be doing but I am finding myself falling surprisingly in love it.

Dun Roamin' Retreat Centre- one room cabin and cozy as Mrs' T's!

Dun roamin' retreat on Cragg Lake in Yukon. One of my favourite spots and the wood stove inspired the placement of my own.

Its not so much what it gives me but what I see it gives to those around me. A made bed, a hot meal, a clean home to wake up and go to bed in. Order. Fun. Familiarity. Peace. Peace. Peace.

It’s always a balance between keeping the space neat for the sake of all our sane heads, as well as allowing freedom for everyone to be who they are in the house. Mrs. T seems to struggle with that too.

Mrs. Tittlemouse was a most terribly tidy particular mouse, always sweeping and dusting the soft sandy floors. Sometimes a beetle lost its way in the passages. Shuh! Shuh! Little dirty feet!’ said Mrs/ TIttlemouse, clattering her dust-pan

Like Mrs. T, I find myself murmuring to myself after a day when I have swept up for the 14th time – “I shall go distracted!”

But most of the time there is a ebb and flow through the house that makes it very workable. I love taking the time to design and plan how the house will function.

You may be laughing now but some of the best planners and builders have given their life’s work to this kind of thought. What is the home, but our castle?

One of my favorite toilet reads – A Pattern Language by Murray Silverstein, Sara Ishikawa, Christopher Alexander (1977) is a classic and popular in design and architecture classes around the world. It is kind of like permaculture, but for cities, homes, kitchens and even bathrooms. Applying many of its design suggestions has changed my home-life a lot. I'll explain a bit below.

Sadly, our bathroom was built right off our kitchen. Totally impractical! Who wants to pee with people sitting at the dinner table right outside?!

Houses should be liveable. But aesthetics are important too. William Morris, the great leader of the Arts and Craft movement of the 19th century said “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."

Here are some ways I have tried to make things smoother in what my stepson continues to remind me, “is a very very very small house for 5 people”. (Not that I agree – we are blessed beyond measure though it may seem small to some).

This room is tiny. What you see is the whole room but it works for 2 kids.

Bunk beds are never fun to make each morning, even for adults. So sleeping bags it is! I put in a fleece insert that I can take out and wash when I need to and the bags themselves only washed once in a century. Plus making the beds is a breeze for the kids.

We never had family pictures up and finally I made a wall downstairs for framed family pictures. But who has time to update these?!! Not me. But frames make pictures beautiful and prompt us to stop and look. Also we never looked at them downstairs.

Here is our solution in the kitchen. I can chop and change these whenever I like. Or feature a kid during the month of his birthday. Or even put up pictures of those family members who have passed when their birthday or anniversary of death approaches.

A sacred space in necessary for us and for many others, whatever faith path you follow. Ours is in the hallway just outside our living room and always is there to bring me back around to what is truly important.

For a small house, A Pattern Language suggests adding “depth” to walls and corners to create other places to be in and to live together. Sometimes we all want to be together in the same space but also want to carve out a nook that gives some privacy. Here our book nook serves in this way (with some handy toy storage beneath). Our window seat is very similar.

I know there are two extremes that can happen in homes with kids – either the toys take over and its seems there is no neutral space left in the house, or there is no sign of toys anywhere and the identity and life of children is relegated to the margins. I am probably more susceptible to the former extreme but have tried to find ways to allow my kids to share the space with adults but not take it over (at least not all the time).

Nonetheless, sometimes I find myself - in the spirit of Mrs. T - scrambling after the kids to try and keep the place from getting out of hand ("She followed Frog with a dish-cloth, to wipe his large wet footmarks off the parlour floor”).

A closet space in the living room doubling as puppet theatre....

and 'put away' space for kids stuff upstairs.

We have a fine, large eating area that we intentionally created - taking away from additional 'living room' space - to make sure that family meals and hospitality feature in our daily lives as much as possible.

There is nothing I love so much as a finely set table with friends around it. It doesn’t always happen and that’s ok. Because when it does, I love it all the more!

I probably go overboard with storage and labeling but as some wise soul once said – A place for Everything and Everything in its Place. In a small house, these words are magic.

We have very little storage space in our duplex so this is our catch all for outdoor wear at the bottom of the stairs.

When I read The Tale of Mrs. T for the first time I was sure that it was going to end with a moral about not being too tidy and particular or you're going to miss out on life. But I don’t think Beatrix Potter went in for “the moral of the story” that much. Not in a Caillou sort of way.

In the end Mrs. T, “makes the door too small for some of the visitors she really doesn’t want to come by”. I promise you I will never do that. Even Mrs. T has to let loose.

[When her house] was beautifully neat and clean, she gave a party to five other little mice, without Mr. Jackson [the dirty frog]. He smelt the party and came up the back but he could not squeeze through the door.”

Sometimes I will have parties and the kids won’t be invited too. However, I think its fair to say that like Mrs. T, the home is worth investing time in. It might even be a legit full-time job. Most people think you have to have way too much expendable income for that sort of thing but I disagree. Many homemakers I know are the most frugal people out there and live on one salary that most people would bawk at.

Habitat for Humanity operates under the belief that if everyone had a home, many of the world’s problems would go away. I wholeheartedly agree. But a home isn’t just four walls. It’s the heart and soul of a family, whatever shape or size. Mrs. T had dirt floors but she still swept them. A true home isn't just the luxury of those with money.

Ours homes should receive the respect they deserve as the castles of our children, as the our own castles - hedge or mansion on the hill.

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A Rainy Day in Our Life #13

8/20/2015

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So rainy days with a 10 year old, a 2.5 year old and an infant are not the easiest days. I like a certain amount of fresh air between us all to keep everyone sane.

Despite the pictures below, I don't really enjoy doing crafts with children and I don't really like a messy house (I know, you want to ask why I had children then). Rains demands that all these things happen in abundance or just watch netflix all day. Next time, I will opt for Netflix.

The bad news is that with kids in such different stages of life they have nothing in common.

What one enjoys the other doesn't like, or simply could care less about, or maybe just doesn't get it.

The good news is also that they have nothing in common. So when one kid is irritating me, the other is delightfully refreshing.

Below we are making Pokemon peg people. I don't get Pokemon no matter how hard I try. Maybe Pokemon is to me what Sailor Moon was to my parents.

It truly is a language I don't understand.

Me: "What is the name of the blue green one?"
The Mexican: "That's bulbasaur"
Me: "Wait, I thought you said that was Menasaur"
The Mexican: "Urghhh! That's the Third Evolution"

Of course. What was I thinking?

I make Ysabeau little peg Catholic saints. (It's actually a thing people - get on Pinterest already!

I was trying to explain to The Mexican what Saints are and so I played a Super Saints card game with him. The cards look remarkably like Pokemon cards (or baseball cards) and list details about the saints - like what they were known for.

The first card The Mexican turned over was St. Padre Pio. Kind of the craziest, or coolest saint out there...or spookiest.

Turns out Padre Pio earned some serious respect from The Mexican who pointed out that "His Super powers are amazing!!! Levitation?!! Holy cow - even Bulbasaur can't do that."

When I also explained what bilocation was (being in 2 places at once) he just about fell of his chair." (Although subsequent discovery of saints like Mother Theresa whose power was helping poor people in Calcutta was not as impressive).

The Super Saints card game quickly became mundane and The Mexican is now interested in this new game he created which is "Pokemon vs. Saints Peg People". Savage.

It wouldn't be fair not to share Ysabeau's Peg Person that she made.

Then they moved on to making forts. Its nice that I no longer have to worry about showing Ysabeau how to do this.

Internal panic ensued when I suggested to The Mexican that he make the shield and sword from an activity book sent to him by grandma. I love the book actually but am more keen to try a few of the crafts out on my own first. Amazingly, he said Yes. Scissors, glue, scotch tape and stickers with a toddler and an infant is guaranteed to spell disaster in some way. More importantly- MESS!

The rest of the day was just a desperate attempt to pass time while it continued to pour rain. We are supposed to be living in a desert! What is this?!!!

What you are missing here is that while I said they could walk beyond this house to the park behind as I watch from the window, I was intending to slap on some boots and come right behind. But as I do, I remember the baby is napping. I'm sure they'll be fine.

Actually, it is the baby who is fine. He's always fine.

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A Day in Our Life #12

8/18/2015

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I realized the other day that I don't like reading on a Kindle. Maybe it's that I suck at math but I don't really get excited about how it only tells me the percentage of the book I have read or the page number I am on. I simply can't see how far I have to go. I often don't make it through Kindle books even though I get so close. I have to pick up a hard copy to get to the end.

Kindle doesn't realize that I am project-oriented. I like to be able to see the end of the book. And with a difficult book, that helps me to pull through to the end.

I am realizing that this may be why parenting sometimes feels especially hard. My kids - while not projects as such (though they feel like it at times), always seem to live outside of my vision for them. There is no page marker telling me that I have 'made it'. On one day Ysabeau is toilet trained. I check the box, project accomplished - and the next day she is not.

Like a Kindle book, the joy of a finished project is withheld. Thankfully, there a number of other joys that override this small annoyance.

Like this one. Moments like these give me hope that maybe, just maybe, they will be friends one day. Good friends.

We are also making some headway with toilet training. I am officially tired of having two kids in diapers - cloth diapers. We spend a lot of time on the potty, Ysabeau and I. We chat, we read, we do anything to at least create some time for something to happen.

Often she will tell me she's peed but when I look in the potty:
"I don't see any pee Ysabeau."
She looks in, "Oh, I guess I lost it."
"I guess you didn't have it in the first place."
"I guess not."

For a while I didn't think that my kid had a creative bone in her body. She didn't pretend or make stuff up - like ever. And then she hit 2 years old and sometime I feel I have gone down the rabbit hole with my daughter.

I have also mentioned in previous posts how sharing the Catholic faith with my children gives me some anxiety. Sometimes they get it and sometimes they don't. Regardless, it makes for highly entertaining play time.

Here Ysabeau has got this little green essential oil burner from my counter. In her mind, it obviously brought up some spiritual sensibilities because she began to pray.

But then she started "drinking her blood".

Before you are really horrified, she clearly thinks it bears some resemblance to the chalice the priests hold during the Catholic mass. To non-Catholics I will spare you the gory details, but effectively, this is when the priest turns the bread and wine in the body and blood of Christ. She simply took a leap of logic and decided it was her blood.

While I was thinking of giving her a quick mini-Church lesson and explaining why cannibalism isn't ok in our family....she was able to bring it down a level;

"Would you like to hold my microbot mom", and handed me the once bloodied chalice.

Phew. Thank God for Big Hero 6 (brought to her by The Mexican) From the sacred to the profane in a matter of a moment. I love toddlers.

The Mexican is started to get beyond his boredom here in the land of no TVs. He insists that he could still ask his mom if we can have hers and that she would probably send it from Mexico.

Until it gets here, he seems happy enough with the small DVD player that sits at the edge of the couch and lapses into black and white every few minutes.

I was excited about getting some semi-adult conversation with having the Mexican around. Turns out the world of Pokemon is top notch conversation for 10 year olds. I don't get Pokemon, but I am learning to honestly find poo jokes funnier. Lord help me.

I made the big mistake of giving his finished lego car to his sister to push around while he was at camp. He told me that he likes to destroy his projects and build them into something new - so why not?

Turns out HE likes to destroy them. He doesn't like me to give his sister permission to destroy. That moment turned into a valley of tears and "I want to leave this country FOREVER". Oops.

I am tired of the phrase, "You're kidding me". The Mexican has introduced this one and my other favourite, "Are you seriously?"

Nothing inherently wrong with those phrases except that now I have a 2 year old constantly repeating them. I took her to the Salmon ladder and there were no salmon:
"Are you kidding?!!"

I went to get juice out of the fridge and then had to explain to her there wasn't any juice:
"Are you seriously?".

My two youngest do not speak French (ok, one doesn't speak at all), the language of my ancestors, but they might actually become ESL, idolizing the Mexican, as they of course should (older brother and all).

Classic gender divide. Notice the Call of Duty (gift from Uncle!) truck in the Mexican's hands and the dolly in Ysa's. Whatever. She has a book about diggers too. And she is all up for the hard-core bike park.

Ysabeau and her buddy Ember at the lake.

Simply, sweet, baby cuteness.

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"I Thought Only Animals Did That" and Other Awesome Things I am Learning From My Blended Family.

8/1/2015

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Ysabeau breastfeeding a rubber chicken.

God must have a sense of humour.

I love tranquil homes, classical music, organized life, laundry done, and floors clean...and oh yes - quiet after 6:30 pm please.

But 3 weeks ago, a 10 year old boy landed on my doorstep. My Mexican stepson. [So from now on he will be called the Mexican recognizing that not everyone likes to have their children's names and identities splattered over the internet. Since he is my stepson I will keep his name for himself but I can't help but share the rest.]

The decibel levels just went up in my house 10 fold. My daughter who liked dolls now likes shoot-em-up games. She has no idea who Pokemon is but insists that now we should go play with him at the rec centre.

So yes, I am adjusting but probably nothing compared to what my stepson has to adjust to; a new culture, new language, new family, new bed, new school, and new climate...new stepmom.

When I forget about feeling for myself, I feel for him. It has got to be tough. I don't care how much the traditional family is trashed in the media today, it still is worthwhile. Yes, I get that marriage can be a hard thing to get through but as my daughter says about everything standing in her way "You can't go over it, you can't go under it, you gotta go through it!". And I think that in many cases (obviously not all), working through it is better than the alternative that awaits with divorce, particularly when children are involved. As G. K. Gesterton says, “The whole pleasure of marriage is that it is a perpetual crisis.”

The blended family is probably one of the greatest challenges out there facing people in second marriages and those hoping to parent with consistency (and without too much financial instability).

It's tough. And yes, I signed up for it willingly and knowingly. But I can recognize what would have been the ideal alternative and there is no reason the world should stop aiming for that.

That said, I am learning so much even in the first few weeks of living in my new blended family.

1) Don't assume your new kids know and appreciate the same things your own kids do.

The Mexican was watching me breastfeed my infant and he looked with astonishment at what I was doing (after two weeks of doing this in his immediate vicinity)

"Are you actually feeding him from your breasts?"
"Yes."
"Oh my God, I thought only animals did that."
"Fortunately, I am an animal so we don't have to worry."
"Does it hurt?
"No."
"Does my Dad know?" he asked as though he was sure I was keeping this mortifying secret to myself.
I was tempted to say no but since I am married to his dad I figured I had to tell the truth or it would come out.
"Yes, actually. He is aware."
"That's crazy."

Fair enough. It is kinda crazy. I am feeding my child with liquid produced, when he needs it, though my body.

2) The relationship between siblings is more special than any other peer-to-peer friendships or friendships with other children (besides cousins) your kids will likely ever have.

I read this before in Hold On To Your Kids by Gabor Mate and Gordon Neufeld. But it didn't sink in until today. My infant isn't old enough for Ysa to really forge a meaningful relationship with yet. But when the Mexican arrived, Ysabeau found the most important person in her life outside of her parents. Her older brother.

Despite being 8 years apart, they seem to appreciate instinctively that they are siblings. They fight, they love, they play, they cry together. She knows he is her brother.

Blended families or not, siblings can be one of the best gifts you give your own children if you are blessed with the chance. I know this in my own life. And yes, maybe those relationships will stagnate later in life, maybe only blossom in parts, or maybe not at all. In all likelihood the relationships will change as siblings weave in and out of eachother's lives. The gift might not even be the relationship itself but rather what we learn from being a sister or brother.

The Mexican's 10th birthday.

Chloe (cousin) and Ysa on the dock at cottage

Cousins. Triple trouble.

3) Don't take anything personally (at least not at first).

My stepson can count among his many incredible qualities, brutal honesty. I like it. It hits hard at first but is also delightfully refreshing.

"This spaghetti...it's good. But no offense, my grandma's [in Mexico] is way better. You would think so too if you had it."

Well, I better get her recipe.

"This house - its very small for five people - don't you think?"

Well, now its beginning to feel a little small.

"Maybe you should save up for a TV. Its a pretty important thing to have in your house."

Alright kid. I get it. He's adjusting and so am I. I won't take it personally. Mostly, he misses his mom. And I don't blame him. I've been there myself...23 years ago. Nothing made sense in my new home at first.

What to do when there is no TV

It's great to have extra help in airports now!

So yes. I don't think I imagined what the possibility of a blended family really meant when I married my husband. But do any of us really understand what marriage is going to mean and actually demand of us (even sans children), when we enter into it?

I am just praying for the grace I need to be here for the Mexican and my own two kids....oh yeah, and that guy I married.

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A Day In Our Life #14 - Yukomicon and Toilet Training

The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse: A Review of Home

A Rainy Day in Our Life #13

A Day in Our Life #12

"I Thought Only Animals Did That" and Other Awesome Things I am Learning From My Blended Family.

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A Day In Our Life #14 - Yukomicon and Toilet Training﻿

The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse: A Review of Home

A Rainy Day in Our Life #13

A Day in Our Life #12

"I Thought Only Animals Did That" and Other Awesome Things I am Learning From My Blended Family.

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Archives

A Day In Our Life #14 - Yukomicon and Toilet Training