Food Issues - Part 1

Ceilidh has been driving us nuts lately at dinner time. She was generally an angel during year 2, so we thought we had been spared the terrible two's. Nope - it just had a delayed start.
We're parents with some common sense, so we accept the fact that kids will be picky eaters at some point in their lives. We know that kids will pick junk over vegetables, and that there will be struggles over food. There's a whole genre of cookbooks dedicated to kids. From making organic baby food to sneaking in mushed up veggies, from making happy faces and designs (out of food) on the dinner plates to 101 ways to cook with pasta for kids. And in my humble opinion, every parent that says their child is not a picky eater is either delusional or is letting their kid eat whatever he/she chooses. At some point in every child's life, there will be an issue with food.
When Ceilidh was a baby, she was a very good eater. She would eat a variety of foods, more so than big brother Devlin. She ate vegetables without fuss. She devoured rice and pasta. She loved fruit. (And she still does.) Meats, fish, chicken dishes. I never fretted about the menu with respect to Ceilidh. (Devlin - that's another story for another day.)
And then, she slowly began to turn down certain items from her gustatory repertoire. Vegetables have all but disappeared from her plate, and some red meats too. Had it only been red meat, then I'd be okay, because she's choosing a healthy lifestyle already! On occasion, she'll eat chicken and fish. Fruit is always a hit, and generally, all carbs. I don't care too much about the vegetables because eventually, they will return to her diet. Tomato sauce and french fries are still part of the vegetable group in a child's - and this parent's - mind.
I have read the books and articles about dealing with picky eaters. One expert suggests having at least one item on the menu that the child will definitely eat. So, there's always rice or pasta at our table. Or fries. Another expert suggests implementing 5 spoonfuls of food, and trying at least one bite of a new item. We do that too. All experts agree that children will copy their parents. If mom and dad eat a variety of foods, kids will eventually pick up on that. We always have some vegetable component to the meal, and both Wayne and I have lots. (To set an example, and to prevent waste.) And if all else fails, then offer a glass of milk, BUT DO NOT cater to the child, otherwise parents become short order cooks. We tell the kids "this is not a restaurant". But on occasion, I have fed the kids some cold cuts and cheese when I know the 1 bite rule will not be enough.
I have neglected to mention that she will drink milk continuously all day. That commercial - about how milk does a body good? So true in Ceilidh's case. She's almost as tall as Devlin and weighs almost as much. They're often mistaken for twins. (Another post some day.)
So, she's not malnourished, and definitely not underweight. Why is she driving us nuts? Because, while she will generally eat well at breakfast and lunch, she will create a huge fuss at dinner time, when energy levels are low and tempers are short for the parental units. First, she wants to sit on Daddy's lap during the entire meal. Then she wants to be spoon-fed and with accompanying sounds (i.e. choo-choo train). Sometimes Wayne will make interesting shapes out of her food to entice her to eat. If the food is not her favourite pasta, or she's just not wanting to eat, then it's another battle. At first, she was putting the food in her mouth, and under the guise of having to pee, she would go and spit out the offending mouthful in the toilet. We would have been none the wiser until Devlin caught her in the act. Now, she will simply keep the mouthful of food in her mouth for 20 minutes or so, looking like the chipmunk. Without chewing. If you tell her she has to take another bite, she says she has to chew, and make a production of chewing, without swallowing.
We've decided to try a new tactic - deny her any desserts and no milk until bedtime if she doesn't finish at least 5 bites of her supper. Waiting for her to finish 5 bites could take 3 hours. So, the other night, we simply took away her plate when everyone else was finished. We went for a family bike ride. Devlin got ice cream afterwards. Ceilidh wanted some too. We offered her the dinner plate. She took it, and fed herself another small spoonful of rice that sat inside her cheek for another 20 minutes. Then it was bathtime. It took another 45 minutes, but she eventually finished her required 5 spoonfuls. By then, ice cream was long forgotten but milk wasn't.
Some experts say food is the one area where young children can exert some control. So, the refusal to eat is their way of exerting independence. Whatever. They say the same thing about toilet training. (Another post for another day.)

Boys have a ---- and Girls have a ----

Unlike some parents, we don't believe in teaching our kids the proper names for certain parts of the body. Not yet, at least. Given my line of work, I want to preserve my kids' innocence for as long as possible, and frankly speaking, it's a bit unnerving and shocking to hear the technical terms come from a wee child. Eventually, everyone learns the correct words.
When Devlin was a toddler, we visited some friends who also had young children. As Wayne was changing Devlin's diaper, the little boy was very curious and observed the whole procedure. He then asked, "Why does baby Devlin have a tiny penis?" It was amusing, but also a bit startling to hear the correct terminology coming from 5 year old.
So, we use terms like pee-pee and wee-wee and everyone knows where the bum is, since we always say "we have to change your bum" when it's time for a diaper change. It works for us and our family.
And then there was the time at the grocery store, when we were waiting in the long line at the check-out.
Devlin: Mommy, am I a boy?
Me: Yes.
Devlin: I'm a boy, and Daddy's a boy?
Me: Yes (while flipping through a tabloid).
Devlin: Mommy, you a girl? A female?
Me: Mmm... (interesting article on Brad Pitt catching my eye)
Devlin: Mommy? Mommy?
Me: Yes?
Devlin: That means, me and Daddy have pee-pees and you and Ceilidh have wee-wees! Right?

The last comment, of course, was in that loud toddler voice that attracted not only a few stares but quite a few giggles and smile from all those around us.

Mixed races

Our kids are biracial, mixed race, multicultural, and whatever other label you can imagine. They definitely look more Asian than white, and there are times that Wayne gets asked if the kids are his.
Growing up as an ethnic and visible minority in southern Ontario, there were moments when I longed to be white since there were very few Asians in our neighbourhood. I was exposed to racial slurs and racist jokes. Back then, these comments were not only tolerated, they were very commonplace. At times, I was ashamed to be "different". I was raised in an immigrant home, had many "Canadian" friends, and struggled to find a happy medium between the two different worlds. It wasn't until I reached university, that I appreciated and embraced my heritage, and felt comfortable in my own skin.
Living in the GTA, among many cultures, our mixed marriage draws very few looks. We see many children born of these unions, but don't give much thought to how they identify themselves. For example, I am culturally an Asian-Canadian, and Asian by ethnicity, and I can fill out that little space on the census forms. But what about my kids? How will they be labelled? Will they be called white? Asian? Biracial? Asian-Canadian?
My children are exposed to their Asian heritage through their relatives. We celebrate certain customs and we hope they will learn the language as well. They already enjoy some of the foods of their mother's culture.
As a minority, there are times when I meet another cultural minority, and we can instantly "click" simply on the shared experiences of growing up in this white North America. I wonder if my kids will have that instant connection with anyone because of their mixed heritage?
It seems, though, they are already more comfortable with the Asian race. When Devlin started junior kindergarten, he became fast friends with Ivan, another little Asian boy. I thought how funny it was, that he gravitated towards someone he slightly resembled. Then today, Ceilidh instantly became friends with an Asian boy at the indoor gym. She saw him playing underneath the slides, and went over and started to play with him. Within minutes, she was holding hands with him and leading him around the gym. (Okay, cute that she was attracted to a fellow Asian, but also worrisome, that our 3 year old is making fast friends with a boy and holding hands already!!! On the other hand, she'll be the stronger partner in a relationship, so less worries for us.)

Co-sleeping a.k.a. The Family Bed

One of the great debates occupying the parenting world is co-sleeping. The medical world views it as unsafe (too many incidents of people rolling over their children as they slumber unaware), the childless folks call it weird, half of the parenting world can't understand it, and the other half are ashamed to admit they do it. I honestly believe that no one, at least in the western world, set out to practice co-sleeping when they become parents. If they did, there would be no market for the vast array of cribs, layettes, bassinets, baby monitors, nursery paraphernalia. Who, in their right mind, chooses to have squirmy kids with leaky diapers in their cramped beds? It just happens, one night, when you're sleep deprived and exhausted to the bone, and then it stealthily becomes a part of your existence. And here's the thing, lots of people do it. It's the great conspiracy of parenthood. You think and believe you're the only parent who sleeps with their kid. Co-sleepers are ashamed to own up to it, lest they get labelled as deviants, but when you start talking to other parents, you realize you're not the only ones with wee ones tucked in next to you. Whether the kids start out in the parental/family bed or whether they creep into the bed in the middle of the night, there are many who sleep together.
We were like all other expectant parents. We picked out a gender neutral nursery scheme, purchased the crib and mattress, set up the baby monitor and awaited the birth of our first. We read all the books on sleep issues, and how to put baby to sleep, and read up on articles denouncing co-sleeping as evil. Our child would be sleeping in the crib. And he did for the first several months. We sleep trained him, "taught" him to fall asleep on his own, and congratulated ourselves for being "normal" parents.
And then, Devlin got sick. Nothing serious, but a first illness with a very high fever is enough to bring terror and worry to all first-time parents. He came into bed with us. He slept more soundly. We admit we liked the extra snuggling we got with him and we loved to gaze upon his sleeping features. Devlin got better, and try as we might, we couldn't convince him to return to the crib. At bed time, he'd point to our room. We'd start him off in our room, and then move him to his crib. We'd ease him back into the nursery, we reasoned. Eventually, we forgot to wake up and move him back. As we had both returned to work, sleeping together became our quality time. The scent of the urine soaked diaper at close proximity to one's face had nothing on a full night of uninterrupted sleep.
We made feeble attempts to get him out of bed. We bought a toddler bed and put it next to our bed. Sometimes he slept there. Sometimes he didn't. It didn't really matter to us as we had a queen sized bed and there was plenty of room for all.
Then came Ceilidh. Again, the crib was prepared to welcome a new baby. She spent one very short night there. That was one baby who knew what she wanted right from the start. The moment I placed her slumbering body into the crib, she started squirming and mewling. She made so many grunting noises that was amplified by the baby monitor that no one could sleep. That is, until I cuddled her next to me. Then Ceilidh would settle in and sleep quietly. She began to sleep through the night at 6 weeks. How could I complain about that? Did I really want to risk disrupting this new sleep pattern by trying to re-introduce the crib? No way.
Wayne calls our sleeping arrangement the "Inuit family", all snuggled up together as if we were in a one room igloo. My father says this co-sleeping is the natural way, that's how families practiced it for years and years before multi-roomed homes were conceived. In many parts of the world today, co-sleeping is the only way. Sometimes we justified it as our room being the only room that was really warm. The nursery was quite cold, until we fixed the insulation. There were nights when it was uncomfortable due to the positioning of little feet next to our faces, when we all froze because Ceilidh has a habit of kicking off the covers, when we were awakened from a sound sleep by the wetness of a leaking diaper, or the sound of Devlin's crying when he experienced a night terror. But the co-sleeping worked for us. We'd read bedtime stories and turn off the light, say our prayers, and snuggle in for a night's sleep. And if one of us adults felt too cramped or crowded, there were two other beds in the house that lay empty.
And then Aisling came along. In preparation for her arrival, and knowing that co-sleeping was now our way of life (at least for the time-being), we purchased a king-sized bed. Aisling actually spent a fair bit of the night sleeping in the bassinet next to me during the first few months, but eventually she too, took up residence in the family bed. Her favorite place to sleep is on top of me with her face pressed up against my neck. The siblings will intertwine their limbs and sometimes, Aisling will sleep on top of Devlin's head, but generally they sleep soundly with one another.
Nowadays, we encourage Devlin and Ceilidh to sleep in their room. Sometimes they do, all night. Sometimes, they will join us in the middle of the night. If one of the two joins us, then Daddy will leave to sleep with the other child. "It's not fair that he/she should sleep alone" he reasons. Three out of seven nights, all 3 will be in our bed.
And since I've returned to work, Devlin has taken to playing up to my guilty working-mom complex. "Mommy, I missed you so much today. Can I sleep with you tonight? I want to be next to you all night because I'm going to miss you all day tomorrow."
And how do I turn that down?

You know you're watching too much t.v...

As I've mentioned before, Aisling arrived 5 weeks early. She spent the first days of her life in the special care nursery at Credit Valley Hospital. She was fed via nasal feeding tube since she hadn't yet developed the sucking reflex.

Although her older siblings were aware of a new baby that was to join our family, Aisling's sudden appearance caught us all by surprise. The day after her birth, Devlin and Ceilidh came to the hospital to meet their new sister. They were taken to the special care nursery, had their hands washed , and were introduced to the newest member of the family. They oohed and aahed and gently touched her, but soon lost interest in the sleeping baby. Their attention was on the various beeping machines, the tubes and leads stuck to the baby, and the incubators that held other tiny infants.

"What's that for?" Devlin asked, pointing at a screen with squiggly line. The nurses explained the machines monitored the baby, and made sure the baby was okay.

"Oh," he said knowingly, "just like on Grey's Anatomy!"

Life...as Devlin sees it

Devlin was two years old when he became a big brother to Ceilidh. He went to daycare two days a week, and thoroughly enjoyed spending the rest of the days at home with Mommy and the baby. It was a time of many adventures, including potty training. And, this is also about the time Devlin began to formulate his opinions on how the world worked.
He understood that Daddy was not home during the day because Daddy worked. Although Mommy also worked, it didn't count since she never left the house. If Mommy was going out of the home, it was for grocery shopping. When asked what his parents did, Devlin would answer "Daddy go work, Mommy go shopping."
When baby sister Aisling arrived, Devlin was 4. Towards the end of my maternity leave, I was preparing Devlin and Ceilidh for my return to work. We had some special trips to the indoor playgrounds and play dates with friends. Their nanny returned on a full-time basis, and all 3 began to spend more and more time with her.
As I prepared to leave on my first day back, Devlin kissed me and said "I'll miss you Mommy. You go to work today, but have another baby so you can stay home with me again."
I shared this story with my mother who told me that, when I was about 4 years old, I had requested my dad to go to the store and get another mommy. Why? So my mommy could stay home with me while the other mommy went to work.

Princess Party

Our little princess, Ceilidh, is turning 3 on Wednesday, July 22. Can't believe it's been 3 years already!

She had her first official birthday party on the weekend, and Sleeping Beauty was a special guest. Unfortunately, many of Ceilidh's friends were on vacation and unable to attend. Fortunately, for the birthday girl, that meant lots of special attention from Sleeping Beauty! There were princess songs to sing and dance to, make-up for the little princesses, autographs too, and a special Happy Birthday song that put the rest of us to shame with our pathetic off-key voices. Ceilidh and her guests had a great time (which is really what matter, right?) and Sleeping Beauty was definitely a hit, although a bit annoying with that giggle.

I am, personally, all princessed out, and if it were up to me, I would ban all princess-related items. But, I'm not in charge apparently. The boss is, as Ceilidh stated more than once that day, "I'm the birthday girl", and apparently that means, lots of princess paraphernalia.

She received a princess dress up gown, a crown and play kitchen among other things (and all were a huge hit with her). Sunday morning, before the rest of us were really awake and alert, Ceilidh was playing in her kitchen, with the gown on and crown perched askew on her messy hair, making "breakfast" for us.

P.S. Sleeping Beauty was courtesy of www.fantasyfables.com.

Devlin and Daddy - Best Buds

My husband was fortunate enough to take 3 months of parental leave when we had our first child. I returned to work after 7 months, and Daddy took over. Wayne remembers those 3 months as some of the best ever, and he cherishes the memories of hanging out with his baby boy - feeding him, playing with him, taking him for walks, and best of all, napping with him on the sofa. I even found a file titled "Devlin's daily schedule" on the computer. My husband had documented all of Devlin's activities, on a hourly basis, including what he had eaten, and how many poopy diapers had been produced.

When Ceilidh came along, we utilized the "divide and conquer" approach. I tended to the new baby, and Daddy dealt with Devlin. Then came baby #3, and now we were out-numbered. In the beginning, Daddy dealt primarily with the older children. But when Aisling was about 7 months, Devlin and Ceilidh were enrolled in gymnastics. I would ferry the kids to the classes and Wayne would stay home with Aisling. We're fortunate that his job enables him to work from home on occasion. Aisling resisted at first, but she eventually got used to Daddy rocking her to sleep at naptimes. Often I would come home and find both of them napping together. Even now, Aisling will fall asleep for Daddy in the shortest amount of time. A blanket, Daddy's arms, a little music and she's out like a light.

Wayne has reflected that he enjoys these moments, and regrets not being able to take parental leave with Ceilidh. He doesn't have the same memories of bonding or cuddling as much with Ceilidh since he was more involved with Devlin when Ceilidh was an infant. So, he treasures these times with Aisling.

One evening at supper, Wayne was recalling his time off with Devlin.

"That was my favorite - napping on the couch with Devlin."

Devlin looked up from his meal, and asked, "What do you mean Daddy?"

So, Daddy explained, "Devlin, when you were a baby, Daddy stayed home and took care of you when Mommy went to work. And we had lots of fun."

"What did we do?"

"Well," Daddy replies, "I would feed you breakfast, and we'd watch some Baby Einstein. I'd change your dirty diapers, and you would help me vacuum. Sometimes we'd go to the store together for our walks, and every afternoon, we'd nap on the couch together."

Devlin looks at his father, points his finger to him and then himself, and says, "You and me? Daddy? We were buds?"

The spirit of sharing

Sharing is one of those things that everyone tries to instill in their kids. We all encourage it - "That's good sharing!" or "Let's share our toys with your friend." We all have the toddler story books on sharing that we read over and over again. There's lots of kids tv shows where "sharing" is the hidden message. If you don't teach your kid to share, then you're basically a failure as a parent.



Teaching siblings to share is pretty tough. It's one thing to encourage your children to share with a visiting playmate who will leave in a few hours. It's another thing when that playmate lives with you, will take your toys without your permission, will sometimes break your toys or eat their cookie and your portion too, and has yet to say "please" or "thank you".



We encourage our kids to share, and sometimes we avoid the arguments by getting each kid their own thing - we have doubles of all the McDonald Happy Meal toys. As they get older, however, Devlin and Ceilidh are becoming playmates who play together (as opposed to playing near each other) and share their toys without prompting. When Ceilidh gets a cookie for dessert, she always asks for an extra cookie for Devlin too.



But what happens if there's only one of something special?



One day, Uncle Billy had one orange sucker and one red sucker. He asked Devlin and Ceilidh what colours they wanted. Devlin asked for red, and Ceilidh happily took the other. Whew - argument avoided. They happily licked their candy, and then Bill heard "switch" from one of the kids. He looked over to see the two trade suckers. They continued sucking now each other's candy, and a few moments later, there was another "switch". This switching of suckers continued for awhile. Bill thought this cooperation and sharing was quite touching as he observed the candy getting smaller and smaller between trades.

And then, Devlin said "switch" and held out his candy. Ceilidh grabbed hold of the proffered candy and crunched her sucker before handing back the empty stick!

Aisling

Aisling is our preemie baby. She's pretty tiny still, but she's a quick. Take your eye off her for a second, and she's up the stairs, or playing in the toilet water, or chewing on the shoes. Unlike her older siblings, she couldn't care less about Baby Einstein or Treehouse TV. Instead, she's much happier pulling the books off the shelves, pulling everything out of Mommy's purse, taking the credit cards out Daddy's wallet, or digging through the pantry. Sometimes, when I'm trying to get dinner ready, or wash the dishes, I will open the pantry and let her have her fun.

And to the exasperation of all, she likes to take the clean clothes out of the laundry baskets and drawers and dump them in the tub. Most especially, her brother's super hero underwear in the bath tub full of water.

From about 2 months, we noticed Aisling was a very smiley baby. If you looked at her, she grinned. She still does. The big smile was the reward because she was quite colicky. And from the moment we brought her home, she liked to fall asleep, snuggled up against someone's chest.

Aisling likes to voice her opinion. As the third child, she's learned to be vocal to get our attention. Around Christmas, Aisling was nicknamed the Gremlin by Auntie Grace because she grunted and growled a lot. Now she's been given the nickname "E.T." because she loves to point, and touch everything with her index finger. She uses that pointed index finger to greet others, and loves it when you touch your index finger to her's. It's a communication tool, as she will point to what she wants. But she also uses it, along with a glare at the subject, to demonstrate her displeasure.

She is a climber. At the playgrounds, she will climb all the structures, including the ones made for kids older than 5 years. I took the kids to an indoor playground that all sorts of well-padded climbing structures and slides. Aisling used every appendage, including her head to give her some leverage, to climb and to keep up with her older siblings. She reminded me of Syd the Sloth in Ice Age. She hasn't figured out how to climb down, despite our attempts to teach her. But that's okay, because otherwise we'd never be able to keep tabs on her.

Every afternoon when I pull into the driveway, she's in the window. There's nothing that melts away the stress of the rush hour commute than seeing Aisling's toothy grin as she dances a jig in excitement. She loves to rush to the door to greet Daddy with a hug around his legs when she hears the front door open.

Aisling's favorite game is "run and catch me". After bath time, she will take off running with mommy or daddy giving chase with the baby lotion and diaper. If she's caught with a no-no, like her older sibling's lollipop, she will run to a corner, put her back to you and attempt to hide.

And she's learning to be a regular imp, like her siblings. This morning, after I had changed her and dressed her for the day, I brought her downstairs to the living room. I gave her a sippy cup of milk, set her down in her chair, and ran back up to finish getting ready for work. Brushing my teeth, I heard a sound. There she was, back upstairs, waving at me, smiling and saying "Hi!" I again brought her downstairs, and this time, handed her to our nanny. Back up I went, to put on some make-up, and brush my hair. Heard another "Hi". Turned around and there was Aisling - smiling her toothy grin, and waving "Hi!" She was obviously very proud of herself for getting up the stairs so quietly and having snuck past the nanny.

I could go on and on about our angel Aisling, but alas, it's time to get some work done. So enjoy the pics of our littlest one!

Mommy's a Super-hero

Ever notice that when you're running late and in a mad rush to get out the door, stressed out by the enormous "to-do" list waiting for you at work, that's the morning the kids will be crying and clinging to your legs not wanting to let you go?

On one such morning, I tried to explain that Mommy's work is important. I likened my job as a prosecutor to a super-hero. Mommy had a mission to keep the bad guys in jail. That seemed to placate the rugrats and I was released from the prison of sticky fingers and teary eyes allowed to leave.

A few weeks ago, Devlin accidently dropped one of his toys in the lake near our home.
In an attempt to soothe her older brother who was quite upset, Ceilidh said "It's okay Devlin. Mommy will get it. She's super hero!"

I'm glad to know I am held in such high esteem by my kids. I know there will come a time when super hero mommy becomes evil mommy, or unfair mommy, or even clueless mommy to them. But until then, I'll be their super hero and gratefully accept the kisses and hugs that come so easily and freely now.

Macchiato?

Devlin is our first-born, and like many smitten parents, we believe our son to be the brightest and smartest child in the world. From the very young age of 26 months or so, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to recognize pictures, logos and would point them out to us.


For example, if he saw the Starbucks logo, he would say "Mommy macchiato" because that's where Mommy got her dose of java.


The golden arches prompted the cry of "Fries, fries, please" and the Tim Horton's store meant "donuts". The bank was the 'money store'. He recognized Best Buy and having spent lots of time wandering the aisles of Home Depot, he could spot a Home Depot from many miles away. If he caught a glimpse of the orange stripe, we would hear, "Look Daddy, Home Depot!"

Once, we were driving down to the grandparents and took a different route that entailed a bathroom stop in Brantford. Across the highway was the Home Depot. Devlin was fast asleep, but the moment he opened his eyes when the van came to a stop, he shouted "Home Depot!"



And then there was the time at the doctor's office. While waiting for our turn with the pediatrician, I was trying to entertain a hyper 2.5 year old by pointing out the cars in the parking lot. Never mind that. He saw something else that caught his eye.

"Look Mommy! The Beer Store!" he shouted excitedly as the door opened and the doctor walked in.

To Cut or Not?

When I was pregnant with Devlin, my husband and I debated the issue of circumcision if we had a boy. We didn't know we were expecting a boy (never found out the sex of all 3 until the moment of arrival), but it's one of those topics that all expectant parents discuss, along with potential names, to breast or bottle feed, cloth diapers or disposable, cut or not, etc.

There was no religious reason for our child to be circumcised, and the arguments regarding hygiene are pretty bogus if you teach your child to bathe and clean the area. So, it really came down to Wayne's argument of "shouldn't little boys look like their daddy?" versus nothing and nobody is going to maim my child. I personally couldn't bear the thought of deliberately causing pain to my child for a purely aesthetic purpose. I had my sister fax over a number of medical articles detailing the unnecessariness of circumcision, plus detailed my spouse about a Oprah special on circumcisions gone wrong. I capped it all off with, "by the time he's old enough to figure out his penis doesn't look like your's, he's too old to be bathing with you. And we could always use the line that you're a grown-up and he's a kid."
Wayne was persuaded, and on June 18, 2004 at 5:33am, when "It's a boy!" was happily stated, there was no need to make arrangements for a snip that didn't involve the umbilical cord.

Well, fast forward two years. Our little boy is talking and discovering the world around him. One day, in the tub with Daddy for a bath, he asks "Daddy? Why my pee-pee has no nose?"

Daddy not sure what Devlin is referring to, asks to repeat himself.

"Daddy, your pee-pee has a nose, but my pee-pee has no nose."
I guess that put a hole in my argument about children not noticing these minor details. But too late now, and the answer that satisfied Devlin was "Because you're a special boy" seems to have laid that topic to rest.

You're not a grown-up unless...

Devlin overheard his Auntie Grace use the word "stupid" in a sentence. In a chastising tone, he said "That's a bad word. You're not allowed to say 'stupid'. Only grown-ups can say that."

Twenty-something years old Auntie Grace responds, "You're right, that was a bad word. But I am grown-up so I can use it."

Devlin: No you're not a grown up because you're not married and you don't have kids.

Grace: What about Uncle Billy? Is he a grown up?

Devlin: Nope. Not married.

Grace: Well, Auntie Shunaha and Uncle Nowell are married. Can they use that word?

Devlin: They don't have kids, so they're not grown-ups.

Grace: What about Grandma and Grandpa?

Devlin: (after a pause indicating some serious thought) They have kids, so, yeah, they can use that word. And Mommy and Daddy too. But no one else.

In his 5 year old view of the world, he's nailed it. You're really NOT grown-up until you are given the monumental task of being responsible for another's well-being - physically, emotionally, mentally. We're always in a rush to "grow up" and reach those milestones that signify we've reached adulthood. Getting a driver's license, going to university, moving away from home, getting a job, getting a mortgage, getting married, hosting that first couples only dinner party, buying a car.

But now that I'm here, I can positively state that I agree with my son - you're not a grown up until you have kids!

Band-Aid Solution

My husband and I decided early on that we were not going to raise wimps. So, if Devlin fell down and bumped his head or banged his knee, we say "you're fine, there's no blood, and here's a kiss to make the boo-boo all better". And off he's go, toddling away to the next bump or bruise.

Now when there was blood, a bandage was the miracle cure. In the world of kids, the picture bandages have even more healing powers. So, our bathroom cabinets are stocked with Hello Kitty, Transformers, Batman bandages, and the plain ones for the grown-ups. When I cut my finger last week, Devlin ran up to get me a bandage. I wondered if he would bring me the Dora bandage but it was a plain old brown one.

At least once a day, Mommy is asked to kiss a boo-boo, and instantly, it's all better. Ceilidh even says "thank you" for the healing touch.

Wouldn't it be great if the pains and hurts of our society could be healed by a simple kiss, or colourful bandage? How simple life would be if all the arguments between world leaders could be settled with an apology and a hug, as is the policy we have with our kids? And how much longer can I shield my kids from the ugliness in our world, and live in their reality - where a kiss makes the hurt go away, a walk to the ice cream store is the perfect ending to the day, and everyone has sweet dreams at night?

The Inmates of the Zoo

I guess an introduction to the cast of characters would make the most sense.

First there's Devlin, more commonly known as the Royal Highness. He's 5, loves the superheroes (be it Justice League or Marvel Comics), idolizes his father, will eat the broccoli stalks but not the florets and is teaching me more about life everyday. He loves to sing songs, has an amazing memory, and is playing soccer this summer. He's referred to as our little Drama King. Sometimes, we think he'll have a career as a thespian, or a professional soccer player. If you ask him who the boss of the house is, he'll say it's him. And he's right.

Then comes Ceilidh, the Princess. She's turning 3 in a matter of weeks, loves all things girly, and insists on wearing a dress everyday. She loves to be cuddled except when she is watching her movies on tv, is very nurturing to her baby sister and will dance for chips. She just finished her first year of dance lessons and charmed her family with her performance at her very first dance recital. She can be very easy going, compared to her older brother except when it comes to taking medicine, or eating vegetables.

Aisling is the baby. She arrived 5 weeks early, but has reached all of the major milestones weeks/months earlier than her older siblings. First two teeth at 4 months, walking at 11 months, climbing everywhere, and now chasing her older siblings. She's 13.5 months now, with a toothy grin and she loves to clap her hands when she hears "If you're happy and you know it..." She is Daddy's angel, and our water baby. Even though she was blue and shivering, you couldn't coax her away from the lake at her grandparents' cottage.

My husband, Wayne, who is excellent in the role of daddy. He loves anything sports related, is passionate about ultimate frisbee, a legend in his own mind about his athletic prowess, and is a sucker for chick flicks. His motto about our rug-rats is "three's a thrill".

There's me - the zoo keeper. I love to read when I get the chance, which is rare nowadays. Also enjoy cooking and trying out new recipes, but am currently limited to mac and cheese and disguising veggies with the audience at home. I play ultimate frisbee with my husband as that counts as quality time in our books that doubles as exercise, plus it gets the kids out in the fresh air too.

Novelyn is our super-nanny. She's been with our family for two years, and the kids adore her. Everyday is a new adventure with her, as there's a always a "field trip" to the park or library or splash pad.

Other visiting members at the zoo:

Auntie Grace - my youngest sister is a teacher and much loved by her nieces and nephew. She was also present for the birth of Devlin and Ceilidh (I'm sure that scared her off of having kids). She is Devlin's soccer idol.

Uncle Billy - my younger brother who is still studying at university and adored by the 3 hooligans. Uncle Billy plays with Devlin, sings with Ceilidh, rocks Aisling to sleep and has been declared by Devlin as his "best friend".

Auntie Shunaha - my younger sister who recently married Uncle Nowell. While she's busy with her demanding career as a medical resident, she always finds times to do crafts with the kids, and take them for walks on the beach. Devlin remembers Auntie Shunaha being there for Aisling's early arrival, and Ceilidh loved Auntie's pretty wedding dress.

Then there's the grandparents. If Grandma (Halmuhnee) doesn't have a cooler full of goodies when she arrives for a visit, there's lots of disappointment. Grandpa (Habudgee) is a great cheerleader and avid audience for whatever antics the kids perform.

When I get married....

Last night, my 5 year old son told me he would miss me. I assumed he meant when I went to work the next day. He's very good at manipulating the guilt that working moms carry around. But he continued on.

"When I get married, I am going to miss you, " he stated.

"Why? Mommy could come live with you!"

"Oh no, Mommy, I have to go on a honeymoon when I get married," he said as if I was very dim - witted in the way that only a 5 year old can.

"But couldn't Mommy go with you on the honeymoon?"

"No Mommy, it's only for me and my wife! You're not invited!"

Amazing what a 5 year old can glean from the on-goings of family life. One my sisters got married in November, and honeymooned in Mexico (sans parents). Since then, there's been quite a fascination with wedding, marriages, and now, honeymoons.

His almost-3 year old sister asked him who he was going to marry. He mentioned a girl from school that he's had quite a crush on. Then she asked him who she would marry? "Some man" was the reply. "What about mommy?" was the next query from the almost-3 year old.
"She already choosed my Daddy so she can't get married" was the answer. His daddy liked that, and I'm wondering if there's an exception to that - like if Bradley Cooper or Ryan Reynolds was to propose, could I choose again?