@#%&*!!!

One of the hardest things about being a parents is learning not to swear in front of the kids. It's especially hard for me, because swearing is a workplace hazard. I am surrounded by curse words all the time, swearing colleagues, and some of the files I work on - well a good swear word is sometimes all that's needed to describe the file.
I learned the hard way to give up the "f" word at home. When Devlin was two and a half, he was toilet trained. Then he regressed. He began to poop in his underwear. Still peed in the toilet, but the poop was always in his underwear. Putting him back into pull-ups wasn't going to help, because then he'd just pee in those. So the decision was made to keep him in underwear, and deal with the consequences. At some point, he'd revert back to pooping in the toilet. But it was difficult, and there were times the "f" word would slip out. One afternoon, Devlin told me he pooped in his underwear. As I pulled down his pants and carefully tried to pull down his underwear without dropping the poop, I said, "Oh Devlin. You know..." He interrupted me with "I know, f---."
Well, that stopped me in my tracks. I knew then and there that I had to stop swearing within earshot of the kids. I tried, and for the most I succeeded. Devlin for the most part, dropped that word from his expanding vocabulary. It came out once after that, in front of parents. Yet another shining example of my parenting skills.
So, I started using substitute swear words at home. Like freak. And unfortunately, I've started using the Lord's name in vain. (Probably a bad habit, because that still slips out, at church, no less.) The substitute words had a placebo effect. My frustrations got voiced. I felt better afterwards.
Until last night. I'm putting Aisling to sleep, and I heard Ceilidh fiddling around with the music box. She keeps cranking it up, and is unable to turn it off. Then she yells, "Daddy! Can you turn off this freaking song?"
Daddy: What???
Ceilidh: I can't turn off the freaking song. It's freaking noisy.

Great. I've just created another monster. Perhaps I should start a curse word jar - put in $1 for every swear word.

And why is it the kids mimic me? They never use the words they hear Daddy say when he's driving!

The Perfect Weekend? Not quite.

My husband has a vision of his perfect day. It's a simple day involving lots of down time playing with the kids, no work from the office, good food and more importantly, no crying children. I'd take no whining over the no crying.

We've just had a great weekend. Uncle Billy came up for a surprise visit, and he brought Windsor Pizza too. Ceilidh was thrilled.

Both the dance lesson (Ceilidh) and the skating lesson (Devlin) went well. I squeezed in a shopping trip to Costco, and both Wayne and I stocked up on Halloween candy. Forgot to double-check the grocery list I gave him. To Wayne's delight, the pantry is overflowing with treats.

The weather was nice so the leaves got raked. The backyard was tidied and toys put away. Four loads of laundry done. All on Saturday.

Then it was off to see The Wiggles at the Rogers Centre. Devlin and Ceilidh had a blast. They thoroughly enjoyed the show, and both cleaned up in the souvenir department. The Wiggles is the highest earning entertainment act from Australia. Mainly because of parents like us, who spoil their children shamelessly, even if they don't deserve it. Ceilidh even managed to score a Wiggles t-shirt due to her talent for whining and Mommy's inability to handle whining late in the day. She wore that t-shirt to bed Saturday night, wore it to church on Sunday, and wore it to bed again last night. I'm hoping she's still not wearing it when I get home tonight.

After church on Sunday, the kids got to play with Uncle Billy while we went to the Farmer's Market with Aisling. Then there was trip to the apple orchard to pick apples under the shining sun. A tractor ride, fresh juicy apples, yummy baked goods from the market stand, and a stop at the pumpkin patch to pick pumpkins for jack o' lanterns...a perfect fall day! More play time outside as we raked up more leaves and played in the backyard.

Really, a near perfect weekend, except for one thing. No naps from Ceilidh and Devlin, which meant very tired, very cranky children by bathtime. More quarrelling after baths, more threats of trips to the naughty stool, more pouting, more whining, more naughtiness.

When adults are that tired, they're more than happy to fall into bed and sleep. Not so with kids. Why? Because it means the end to a great weekend? Because it'll be another 5 days before they get to spend all day with mommy and daddy doing fun things? I'd like to think we have fun during the week too, but it's not the same. I know.

Is she trying to tell us she's ready?

Yesterday, I found Aisling in the bathroom. She was standing by the toilet, pulling down her pants. She then tried to pull off her diaper. Not sure what she was doing, I went in and peeked in her diaper. No poop. So I tried to pull up her pants. She protested a bit. I watched as she hiked up the waistband of her pants, and then reach over the toilet to flush.
Hmmm....
A few weeks ago, she brought me the container of wipes. When I looked at her, she tapped the toilet seat with her hand. I checked her diaper, or rather, I got close enough to get a whiff. Yep. Needed a bum change.
The day after that, she came running to me, and then assumed the position. You know, the one where the kids hop off the toilet, and bend over, waiting for you to come and wipe. And sure enough, there was a poop in the diaper.
Our nanny told us when she's got a poopy diaper, Aisling will hold her nose and bring over a new diaper.
She's barely 17 months, but could she be telling us she's ready to start potty training? Me thinks she's simply modelling her older siblings' behaviour, but when it's time, I hope she'll be easier to train than the others.

My kid's not a genius - I want a refund!

So, Walt Disney has now offered to refund parents the cost of the Baby Einstein Dvds if their children are not brainiacs. Apparently, some parents believed that because the series was titled Baby EINSTEIN, watching these "educational" clips would ensure their children would be intellectually superior. We own almost all of the Dvds in the Baby Einstein collection, and I don't ever remember seeing a warning that my children would learn to read at the tender age of 2, do multiplication tables by 3 and produce a Pulitzer prize winning piece of literature by 5 after viewing the programs. What idiot parent would believe that by simply passively observing some puppets and toys in actions would result in a mini-genius? Same parent that believes baby needs knee pads to cushions tender knees when baby starts crawling. (Yes, they do sell special baby knee pads for crawling.) Or same idiot parent who would spend $8 for a square container to pour water in bath tub (to prevent unnecessary splashing) rather than re-using a yogurt or plastic juice container. What's that saying - a fool and his money are easily parted.
Apparently, for some parents, having a child results in the loss of common sense, logic and brain cells. Sleep deprivation may be the culprit. But there are so many gizmos and gadgets out there for new parents, it's a bit ridiculous! Never mind the selection of strollers, car seats and slings. I'm talking about the ergonomic baby spoons, the colour-coordinated soother pods, the bum wipe warmer (god forbid something cold should touch baby's bum), the various sound monitors and video monitors for a sleeping baby, and special mitts to put on parents' hands to wash baby and to prevent baby from slipping out of parents' hands. Also saw terry cloth apron to wear when washing baby to prevent parent from getting wet. Sorry, but the splashing is what makes baths fun! I've even seen a contraption for parents to hold up toddler when said toddler starts walking. i think it's to prevent back pain for parents, but sore backs are part of parenthood. The aches from bending over to hold trusting child's tiny hands is nothing compared to observing and experiencing the wonderment in child's face as they realize they're walking. And wait until bigger kids start asking (whining) for a piggy-back ride because the novelty of walking is gone, and their little legs are tired.
Let's be honest. We parents did not purchase those Baby Einstein Dvd's in the hopes of ensuring our children would be become Oxford scholars. We purchased them in the hopes of getting 8 baby-free minutes in which to shower without interruption and maybe, maybe, make a phone call or two, or throw in a load of laundry without having to lug baby too. Once in awhile, the dvds were helpful in shovelling a spoonful or two into fussy baby while baby was distracted by the cute puppets on screen. The sole purpose of those Dvds is to preserve the parents' sanity. Devlin loved watching them, Ceilidh not so much, and Aisling couldn't care less. She'd rather dig through a bin of toys or chase her older siblings.
The only genius here is Julie Aigner-Clark, creator of the Baby Einstein series, who made millions when she sold her company to Walt Disney. I wish I could come up with a brilliant idea like this!

Kissing boys already!

Ceilidh is a very affectionate child. She will give you kisses out of the blue, and her hugs involve her throwing her arms around your neck and squeezing with all her might. She loves to cuddle on the couch or in bed, and will hold onto your arm tightly as she falls asleep. Every so often, she proclaims "I love you" very loudly and then bestows another kiss.
Yesterday, our nanny took Ceilidh and Aisling to the park. They saw Brandon, one of Devlin's classmates. When it was time to leave, Ceilidh said her good-byes and then ran up to Brandon to plant a kiss on his cheek! Brandon's older brother was disgusted by that (yuck - a kiss from a girl!) and I'm not sure about Brandon's reaction. Our nanny was amused. Upon hearing the story, Daddy was a bit worried about having to guard Ceilidh from boys (or is it the other way around?) at this young age.
Laughingly, I told Ceilidh she shouldn't be kissing random boys, and gave her a list of boys she could kiss - Daddy, Devlin, Uncle Billy, Grandpa, Uncle Nowell.
Ceilidh, on the other hand, couldn't understand the fuss and instead told us to "stop talking about her".

Teaching political correctness at age 5

The other day Devlin mentioned to his auntie Grace that he had seen two boys kissing on the t.v. show Brothers and Sisters. First off, we do not make a habit of letting our kids watch such television shows, or any t.v. after 9pm. But he had woken up and wanted to snuggle with Mommy and Daddy. He crawled between us, wrapped a blanket around us, and we thought he had fallen asleep.
For those of you who never watch the show, there are two male, gay characters (Scottie and Kevin) who are married to one another. I love the show because the dysfunctionality of the loving family reminds me of my own crazy but happy family. Despite whatever problems they must face, the family members all unite together to offer support and there's generally a happy ending at the end of the hour.
Anyways, back to the topic at hand. Devlin must have glimpsed a scene where Scottie and Kevin share an embrace and a kiss. He never made mention of it to us, nor did he ask us any questions. But in chatting with Auntie Grace, he brought it up, out of the blue. Auntie Grace, being the teacher that she is, asked him how he felt after seeing that. Was it weird? Was it gross? Devlin pronounced it weird because boys are supposed to kiss girls, not other boys.
That could have been the end of that, but as I've mentioned before, Devlin is starting to tell jokes. Or attempting to tell jokes. Maybe he's inherited his father's quirk for telling bad/corny jokes.
So, Devlin says, "I have a joke to tell you Mommy. Two boys kissed and then got married!" He laughed in that crazy way that 5 year olds laugh when they think something is funny or gross or both.
I swallowed the response "it's only funny if you're living in Alabama or Texas" and instead sat down to explain that it couldn't be a joke, because boys can marry boys. And girls can marry girls.
Understandably, Devlin was confused. "No, boys are supposed to marry girls," was his emphatic response.

Wow, this is a conversation no parent would have had with their 5 year old a generation ago. Back then it was simple. Boys kissed girls. First came love, then marriage, and then the baby carriage. Now I have to teach my little boy that sometimes, boys will like boys, and girls will like girls. Sometimes, boys will marry boys, and sometimes, there will be babies too. Utterly confusing and difficult to grasp. Even for many adults today. There's never a right or wrong time to start teaching tolerance, acceptance and political correctness. I just thought I'd have a few more years of pure baby innocence before having to explain such intricacies of life. At least he hasn't asked me where babies come from...yet.

A special anniversary message

It's been 10 years since Wayne and I exchanged vows to be together until death do us part. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that we were heading down the aisle, and then some days, it seems like we've been together forever! (yet, he still hasn't learned how to fold the towels to fit on the shelves in the closet.)

Over the years, there's been lots of challenges to our marriage. We started out with a weekend marriage while I was in law school in Ottawa and he kept the home fires burning in Toronto. We had summers to re-adjust to the togetherness, and there were lots of times I'm sure we wished we could throw a coffee cup or two at each other. After law school, I found an articling position somewhat near to our residence. My brother more or less lived with us for a year or two. I got my own car! We started to play ultimate frisbee together. We finally embarked on our honeymoon - four years after the wedding. A road trip out east that tested our skills as co-pilots and gave us lasting memories of dining on fresh lobsters and sampling the offerings of the local micro-breweries.

Then our first home. We busied ourselves with decorating (painting the walls) and making plans for the future. And very very soon after that, we welcomed Devlin into our lives. Another period of adjustment as we figured out how to care for this squalling infant that looked like a monkey but had us wrapped around his tiny finger. Since then, we've moved, added two daughters to the mix, bought a mini-van, managed to enjoy a couple of vacations, and grow together as a couple.

The past ten years haven't always been easy. There's been lots of times that I have fumed at Wayne, and his tendency to procrastinate. Why is it nagging if I have to ask him to do something more than once in a 24 hour period? But hey, he finally put up the shelves in the bedroom - a whole year after they were purchased. And his offer to help clean up after a meal only extends to the dishes actually in the sink.

And then there are many many things that endear him to me. Like how he scrubbed dirty cloth diapers without a complaint; or manly took over the puking child; how he hangs shelves evenly although I had my doubts when I saw his first efforts when we were engaged; how he managed to set up a ladder to coax a litter of baby skunks to leave our basement window well; how he manages to over-cook the steaks each and every time; how he appreciates my culinary efforts in the kitchen. He watches chick flicks willingly, and he got teary-eyed at the end of Monsters Inc. (yeah, the cartoon movie with the furry creatures). He still exasperates me with his obsessive need to go over every brilliant pass on the frisbee field, or his inability to find his wallet/phone/keys despite looking everywhere and then I find the missing item in the place he's searched three times. And his taste in television shows don't always jibe with mine. Really, Charmed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Then there's his compulsive need to place every actor's face and name the last three shows that said actor was in. It's like playing six degrees of separation every time the t.v. is on.

However, seeing him grow as a father these last several years has been the icing on the cake. I can remember the awe on his face when he first held Devlin. I love watching him cradle the babies on his chest as they slumber. When Aisling was in the special care nursery, he would would hold her gently as she was fed, and then read "Guess How Much I love You?" to her. Aisling still loves to be held and rocked by her Daddy when it's time for a nap because he sings to her. That's another thing - he can't carry a tune in a bucket but both his girls would be soothed by their daddy's lullabies.

For someone who didn't have much of a father figure in his own life, Wayne is an amazing dad. He is incredibly patient when teaching Devlin how to catch the frisbee. He spends hours with the kids playing in the park or on the driveway. He relishes the tight hugs that Ceilidh dispenses and melts when she loudly announces that she loves him. His face lights up when Aisling runs to greet him at the door and throws herself at his legs. He reads to the kids every night and says their prayers too.

There are so many facets of Wayne that makes him an incredibly supportive partner. He listens to my work frustrations and encourages me in all of my endeavours. He brings the kids to cheer for me at a race. He once rollerbladed alongside to support me when I ran a half-marathon! He occasionally yells at me when I drop the frisbee on the field. He makes the best coffee in the mornings, and on weekends, he is the pancake chef. Although, his omelettes could use a little help.

And after all these years, I still enjoy just being with him. I still laugh at his (awful) jokes. I still fall for his corny lines. I still look forward to hearing his voice on the phone, and seeing him at the end of the day.

Happy Anniversary, and here's to many many more years of laughter and happiness.

You're not an old man!

A few nights ago, Daddy groaned as he was bending down to bathe the zoo inmates.

Devlin: What's wrong Daddy?
Daddy: Nothing. it's just that Daddy is getting old and his bones hurt. I'm an old man.
Devlin: You're not old. Old people have lots of white hair. You don't have lots. So you're not old.
Daddy (laughing): Thank you Devlin. Is Mommy old then?
Devlin: No.
Daddy: What about Auntie Grace?
Devlin: No - she has no white hair. She's young.
Daddy: How about Grandma?
Devlin: No - she has black hair. She's not old.
Daddy: Well, what about Grandpa?
Devlin: Ummm, he has a bit of white hair, but he also has black hair. He's only a little bit old.

Promises of presents

My parents and my youngest sister Grace have just left for a month-long visit to Korea. For my parents, it will be the first time they have ever returned to visit together. Both have gone back on separate occasions, but because of family and work obligations, they haven't had the luxury to return to their homeland together. But it's also a journey home for my grandmother. Her ashes are to be buried in her hometown, next to my late grandfather. So, it's a homecoming of sorts, filled with the happy anticipation of seeing family and old friends (and great shopping for my sister) but also tinged with sadness.
It's been forty years since my dad left his country of birth and travelled here, looking for education and opportunities, and eventually finding a place to raise his family. It's also my parents' fortieth wedding anniversary. My dad left for Canada a few hours after the wedding ceremony, and my mother didn't join him in Canada for another 2 years. But that's a story for another day.
In preparation for their trip, my parents and sister were spending a few days with us before their departure. Grandma cooked and baked to fill our fridge with lots of wholesome food that she knows her dear grandkids will enjoy(does she think I can't feed my family?). Auntie Grace spent a day playing with Devlin and Ceilidh. Aisling got to enjoy lots of special attention from everyone.
When Devlin learned that everyone was leaving early the next morning, he got quite upset. To distract him, Auntie Grace asked him what he wanted from Korea.
G: What shall I bring you from Korea? What kind of gifts?
D: I don't know. What kind of stuff is in Korea?
G: How about new pyjamas?
D: Okay, I like pyjamas. But, ummm, Auntie Grace, what else is in Korea?
G: Lots of things. Why don't you think about it, and get mommy to send me an email with what you want.
D: I have a better idea. Why don't you go there and see what's in Korea. Then you can call me and tell me, and I'll tell you what I want.

Little Boys - part 3

Remember that Mother Goose rhyme about what little boys are made of?

What are little boys made of? What are little boys made of?

Snaps and snails, and puppy dogs' tails.

That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of? What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice, and all things nice,

That's what little girls are made of.

Well, I don't know about snails and tails, but I can tell you that little boys are all filled with giggles when it comes to toilet talk. We're at that stage with Devlin where the words "pee", "poo" and "bum" will invoke fits of convulsive laughter and silly grins. He's also learning about jokes and riddles. Yep, every joke is about something involving pee or poo or something coming out of a bum. I'm surrounded by pee and poo as is, with three kids and one in diapers, and I can tell you, it's no laughing matter on the best of days. But I get it, little boys (like big boys) have an inborn need to giggle at matters involving bodily functions.

It's just when the toilet/bathroom talk comes to the dinner table that I start to lose patience. We've tried to explain that such subjects are off-limits at the dinner table, and we're also trying to suggest generally, that such topics are distasteful. But in a 5 year old's mind - how can something sooo funny and gross and disgusting be off-limits? And so, I resign myself to hearing the laughing and seeing the goofy smiles when we hear the words pee and poo. Boy, can't wait to get to the next stage when he discovers the words for certain body parts on the female.

I'm looking forward to the girls getting to this stage. I'm sure the toilet talk will not make such an impression on them, but certainly there will be some giggling over something just as silly.

A new game

Over the holiday weekend, my sister Grace decided to teach Devlin a card game. Uno, (pronounced you know) which is pretty much Crazy Eights but with its own set of special cards.

Devlin is always eager to learn new games, and his response was uncontainable.

"What's the game called, Auntie Grace?"

"Uno."

Devlin then called out to his younger sister, Ceilidh. "Ceilidh, Ceilidh, come quick. Autnie Grace is going to teach us a game!"

"What's it called?"

"It's called 'I know'!"

Open house

Last night was the school open house. Devlin's been talking about it for days because in addition to the open house and an opportunity to speak with the teachers, the book fair was also on. This would mean, of course, new books! On Monday, he came home and said, "Mom, Mom! Four more sleeps and it's the book fair! Can I get a new book?" And this repeated every day until, finally, the day of the open house arrived.
If there's one item I will not deny my children, ever, it's books. We have books of all shapes, sizes, subjects in every room of our home. Fostering the love of reading, and opening up the world of imagination through words is very important to us. Bed time involves at least two stories, if not more.
So, off we went to the book fair with money in hand. Both Ceilidh and Devlin were told they could buy two books each and Aisling was also granted a new book. A treat for her to have something that wasn't already tattered and dog-eared.
We also toured Devlin's classroom and viewed his artwork. He proudly showed us a painting. Based on the black head, red torso and splashes of blue paint, Wayne and I both declared it be a great painting of Optimus Prime. That's when the teacher informed us it was a self-portrait!
It was also uplifting to hear that Devlin has been adjusting to senior kindergarten with more ease than he did with junior kindergarten. His teacher noted that there's been no tears and fewer behavioural problems.
Believe me, it was nice to hear that because last year was rough. While he was excited about starting school, he didn't go gracefully. Every morning, there were tears. There was screaming for Mommy not to leave him alone, and there was clinging to Mommy's legs. For two and half months, I had to walk him into the building, pry his fingers from mine and place him on the "crying" chair and then try to leave the building. All the while dodging little bodies rushing off to class and Devlin who was running after me. It brought back memories of dropping him off at daycare. Then in November, I decided to bribe him. If he could walk into the building without tears, there would be a special toy that he got to pick out. The next week, there was a toy if he walked into the building himself. I still accompanied him to the doors. The following week, there was a treat if he lined up with the rest of his classmates. And so on, until we finally got him to enter the kindergarten gated area and hang with his friends instead of holding onto me.
So to hear that Devlin was making a smooth transition into senior kindergarten was a great relief! I wasn't too stressed about the little bumps in the behaviour department. If I had received reports that he was a complete angel, I would have been worried the teacher was talking about someone else's child. (After all, I know my kid!)

Sleeping through the night

It happens, eventually, that toddlers will sleep through the night. Unfortunately, we're so accustomed to waking up several times a night, we don't realize that's it's not the baby that woke us up, but some other noise. It's been several weeks (not including the croup filled weekend) that Aisling's been slumbering peacefully at night, and I never took notice of it until recently. I was still getting up several times - out of habit, I think, but it never registered that Aisling was still asleep.

Until last night, that is. There was as bit of commotion at 3:30am as Daddy discovered someone had wet the bed. This resulted in changing the wet child, stripping the wet sheets, re-locating previously sleeping children to mommy and daddy's big bed, and tucking everyone in again. In the midst of all this, Aisling woke up. She saw her siblings next to her, and declared it to be party time. She laughed in glee, clapped her hands, poked Devlin once or twice to make sure he was on board with the idea and then raised her arms and started dancing. When she saw sleepy and grumpy Daddy, she greeted him with a huge smile too.

It took a few minutes to convince her that it was still sleep time, but miraculously, she fell asleep quickly and with little protest. There were a couple of more nudges to big brother Devlin before snuggling into next to Mommy (and a few exploratory pokes at Mommy's face too) and I could soon hear the gentle snoring coming from all three.

Before I went back to sleep for a few more hours, I took notice of one fact. Children are incredibly beautiful when they're sleeping...probably because they're still and quiet!

Rant on Flu (swine and otherwise)

It's fall, the kids are back in school, and the warnings are already out regarding the second outbreak of the swine flu. There are media reports about cases of swine flu and the much promised vaccine isn't ready yet, and so a flurry of media reports on how to best prevent catching the dreaded bug come out. We should wash our hands after coming into contact with EVERYTHING! Then there was a report that questioned the effectiveness of washing hands as a preventative measure. Oh, and don't forget the study that suggested getting a regular flu shot made one more susceptible to the swine flu. Or was it the other way around.
It's getting out of hand. Now, the Olympics Committee is advising athletes to avoid handshakes and high fives. Rather, fist bumps will be the way to congratulate fellow competitors. No more butt slaps?! And of course, no more hugs. Wow, what a way to kill that celebratory mood.
Then yesterday at church, the minister suggested fist bumps as an alternative to shaking hands when passing the peace of Christ! All right, that's going a bit far. I actually didn't see any do "props" (as Devlin has told me that's they're called) to pass the peace. And, isn't a clenched fist suggestive of a fighting stance, rather than peace?
What really got me was that after the suggested fist bump passing of the peace, there was Communion. The bread was already cubed and placed in a tidy bowl. Nope. it was torn by the bare hands of the server and handed to you to be consumed. I think I'd be more concerned about flu germs being passed this way, than by passing the peace. Really. How do I know this server washed/sanitized his hands recently. Or that the loaf wasn't sneezed on by some other server? Or that the minister had recently sanitized his/her hands before breaking apart the bread? I'm sure I saw the minister shake several hands prior to service commencing.
Okay, what I'm really irked by is the hype about the flu season. Yes, it's uncomfortable and misery to those who get it (I had it last year), and yes it's deadly for some. But so are many things. And frankly speaking, illnesses and viruses are part of life. Deal with it. To envision a life without, is to dream. I don't think any preventative measure on earth will eradicate the flu virus for good. The common cold virus is still around, and will be for many years.
Sure, practice good hygiene. Get the flu shot if you desire. But don't believe it will stop the virus for good, or believe that it will protect you from all bugs. I'd rather see the government spend the money on promoting preventative health in general. Like promoting exercise and sensible eating, doing more the stop the masses from smoking, promoting the importance of early prenatal care, and funding better support systems for the mentally ill.
As a mother of young kids, I've accepted that illnesses will happen no matter how many preventative steps you take. And no, you can't catch a cold from not wearing a jacket but you still say that to the kids.

Naps

Speaking of naps, I am still somewhat disbelieving when our nanny reports that Devlin naps in the afternoon. I can count on one hand the number of times Devlin napped when I was off on maternity leave with Aisling. I have never experienced the "peaceful" atmosphere that my mother described my home was when all 3 kids nap.
So, I asked Devlin why he doesn't nap on the weekends.
M: Devlin, why don't you nap for Mommy and Daddy?
D: I only nap on school days, after I do my homework.
M: Well, we could do homework on weekends too.
D: No, on weekends, it's not napping time.
M: Why? (a little desperate sounding because I am craving a little nap)
D: Because, I want to spend time with you and Daddy, not sleep!

Well, how do you force a nap after that answer!

You're talking about my kids?!

Grandma and Grandpa were visiting again last week, and this is what Grandma reported to me:

• the kids were quite well-behaved, and played well together
• Ceilidh had a very healthy appetite and ate whatever Grandma put before her
• Devlin also ate whatever Grandma served, and in fact, ate non-stop
• all 3 kids napped in the afternoons - it was so quiet, Grandma declared the house was actually peaceful!
• Aisling even nibbled on kim-chee (Korean spicy picked cabbage)
• there wasn't much in the terms of whining

Really? These were my kids she talking about. We're thinking of shipping Ceilidh off to live with Grandma. Apparently, she only eats for Grandma. Because, after Grandma and Grandpa left, she gave us a hard time about dinner - again!

To hear anyone describe our household as peaceful, and it's not the middle of the night - that's a first. Wow.

Why do children always behave when mom and dad are not actually present? Why do we always have to hear about their angelic dispositions, and never get to witness it?

Maybe they just know how to play the game.

Grandma brought over a batch of muffins. The kids polished off the entire batch (count 'em - 24 mini muffins) in one day. Devlin and Ceilidh declared them to be "the best cupcakes ever!" Grandma, so flattered by the compliments and encouraged by their healthy noshing, baked two more batches before heading back home.

The kids waved good-bye, and showered beloved grandparents with many slobbery kisses and shouted "See you Friday" as Grandma and Grandpa drove away. Within minutes, these angels reverted back to the boisterous rugrats with whom we are more familiar.

Seriously, maybe we should send them all to the grandparents and we can visit them on occasion. Maybe then we'll catch a glimpse of the angels?

(Although, Grandpa has declared no more sleeping with Ceilidh. She kicked off all the covers, and kept kicking them off, so that poor Grandpa froze all night.)

-

Talking in her sleep...

Ceilidh talks in her sleep. It's quite funny. But you'll never guess what she talk about! Food!
So while we're tearing our hair out trying to get her to eat dinner, she dreams about food and most likely, eating.
Wayne woke up one night hearing her ask for more cheese. There was no sleepy mumbling. Very clearly, she asked "I want cheese. Please."
Last night, I went to tuck her in, and she asked for "gummy bears and princess gummies", referring to her multi-vitamins. I thought she was awake, but her eyes were closed. Then she rolled over and continued with her slumber.
Maybe we should try feeding her in her sleep?!