The CNE in numbers

The day's heat - 33 degrees Celsius but with the humidity - it was 40-something.

Two adult passes and two children's passes (Aisling still free) totals $44. But that's only the admission to the grounds. Add in 3 all day ride passes for the kids and 77 ride tickets for the accompanying parent - too much to think about without breaking down and whimpering.

Still, let's add in $20 spent on games for five prizes that probably cost 50 cents to produce in China.

One freshly squeezed lemonade for $8! But worth every last cent in this heat.

Five, no, make that 3 turns on the merry-go-round. 4 times on the Speedway that whips you around the corners. Twice on the Bumblebee, and once on the train. All for Aisling.

Lost count of the rides that Ceilidh and Devlin enjoyed.  

8 - the number of times Devlin ran through the fire hydrant to cool off.

10 - number of week old piglets sleeping with mama in the Farm Building.

12 - various cold drinks drained to the last drop.

24 fresh, still warm, Tiny Tom doughnuts consumed within minutes.

Two hot and sweaty parents and three smiling kids = another profitable year for The Ex.

One very tired toddler.

P.S. Deep fried butter? Never got a chance, with three rugrats in tow.

How to Raise a Juvenile Delinquent

Disclaimer - Please remember, the views expressed in this post are mine alone.

Given my line of work, I do see lots of problem kids, and sometimes their families. Every time I encounter one of these children, I wonder to myself, how do I NOT raise a child like *that*. It's a conversation my co-workers and I often have, and the one consistent theme we've returned to is  - STAY INVOLVED. Easier said than done. Our lives are busy. We're juggling demanding careers, some of us commute, most of have more than one child, some of us also are caring for other family members, some are single parents, in addition to the usual day-to-day pressures of just surviving.
I recently dealt with a case where the parents had simply no control over their teenaged son. What was more profound was that it seemed that both mom and dad had given up on this child. The father was well-aware that the boy was smoking dope heavily, but did nothing to deal with it, aside from lecturing the kid to make sure pot was interfering with school work. Dad thought his son was going into grade 11 while mom thought he was taking grade 10. Neither parent knew their child's friends, and both were unaware of the court conditions their son was on. In fact, dad was surprised to hear that his child had recently been sentenced.
This child resided at home with both parents, yet it was clear that both parents were clueless about their child's whereabouts, schooling, peer group or anything else that mattered. Is it any wonder this kid was in court again?
Okay, maybe I'm taking an extreme example. But there are parents out there who have no clue as to their child's social activities, nor their school schedule. I've asked many parents what classes their son or daughter were taking, only to be met with blank stares. There are parents who are stunned to discover that police have found drugs in their child's bedroom or knapsack. Parents who are shocked to learn their child is communicating in Internet chat rooms frequented by predators. I honestly believe that children under the age of 18 years should not be allowed to have a Facebook page or My Space page. There are too many crazy individuals out there who are more tech savvy than the hapless parent. Police lecture over and over again to parents the importance of having the family computer in an open area, like the family room or kitchen so that parents can monitor what their children are doing. Or removing access to the Internet on other computers the children may have access to, but not all families are practicing this. When confronted by outraged teenagers who scream about "invasion of privacy", many parents will acquiesce to their children instead of braving the fight. Kids are smart. Once their parents have given in one area, they know it'll be easy to bend another rule. Curfews get later and later. So many parents are content with the line "Going to my friend's" without asking more probing questions, like who that friend is, where the friend lives, and whether or not adult supervision will be available.
At a recent get together with good friends, we discussed work hours and working conditions in general, particularly the long-ish hours my husband logs. While I do complain about the hours he works, the rugrats' dad is always home for dinner and the various activities for the children. He's only late when the GO train is delayed. Which means, whatever doesn't get done at the office during the day gets done late at night or early in the morning when the kiddies are snoozing. His job is also flexible enough to allow him to work from home on occasion so he can attend school assemblies and the kids' medical appointments when I cannot. When she heard this, our friend went on and on about the importance of putting in the long hours now, especially given this treacherous economy. I wasn't sure where she was going, but she was relating how their acquaintance had been sacked recently when the company has discovered this individual was spending more and more time doing errands and dealing with kids when "working from home". I came away with the impression that it was more important to put in the "face" time at the office, since the kids are young now. Once the career is well-established, there would be time for a more relaxed pace. I'm not certain, but I believe that was premised on the fact that older children are involved in more time-consuming activities and the teen aged years are more troublesome and would required more parental involvement.
Both my husband and I disagree with this concept. Our children are young, and now is the time to "be there" for them. Firstly, we are both established enough in our careers that we are not still jockeying for positions in our respective organizations. I'm also fortunate enough to have a secure job. Secondly, I think both of our employers appreciate and understand the importance of family. Thirdly, having set the pattern now that our children are our utmost in priority will guide us in our future decisions regarding career paths. Besides, whether or not children are 5 or 15 years of age, parenting is time-consuming and soul-encompassing task at any and every stage.
We only have this once chance to raise our children right. If a home is built on an unstable foundation and shoddily constructed, any idiot can tell you what will happen the minute that structure is subjected to any form of stress. The same is true for the parent-child relationship. If you've been so wrapped up in establishing your career, that you don't get to know your child, how can you hope to build a relationship when that child is older? You've already sent the message to your children that they are not the most important in your life. Similarly if you're only there to discipline the misbehaving kid, how can you expect that kid to ever open up to you about his or her dreams, fears, questions?
The time to invest in my children's future is now. We need to lay down the groundwork to building a healthy relationship where they will listen, obey, respect and trust us as their parents. While we may be strict, we truly believe it's for their own benefit. Children need limits, and they need to be told "No" every so often. Yes, they cry and whine and throw tantrums, but eventually they will learn that their will is not my command. Giving in to every whim and desire will merely breed a spoiled brat.
We try to eat one meal together as a family. Generally, that's dinner, and we take the time to converse with our kids. Whether it's asking what he learned in school, or listening to the latest adventure the princess had with Barbie. We pore over the progress reports and make efforts to speak with the teachers. We enroll our rugrats in various activities to enrich their lives, but also to keep them busy and to lay down the foundation to a diverse peer group.
By setting out the pattern now, when they are young, will make life easier for all parties when the children are older. For instance, having known that dinner is family time when they're young, means they will know no different when they're older. If we follow through with the punishments now, our children will expect no less when they're teenagers. Rather than trying to assign chores at a later age, our children know that toys are to be picked up every evening, dirty clothes belong in their laundry baskets and plates and cutlery are to be put into the sink once they're finished a meal or a snack. Even Aisling can reach up and pitch her (plastic) bowl into the sink. Attempting to set boundaries and discipline when the children are older, I think, would be akin to closing the barn door after the horse has escaped!
We have the rest of our lives to earn a living, or make headlines with our careers, but that is not true of being parents. You have one chance to parent. One chance to screw up a child's life, or not. One chance to instill yourself in your child's life as a parent, mentor, educator, and trusted ally.

Winning isn't Everything

Sometimes we parents forget the rule that "it's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game". Even though we try to stress that it's all about learning team work, developing coordination, and above all else, having fun, we do get caught up in the number of goals that's been scored and by whom. There are lots of stories about the those horrendous hockey parents who get barred from attending practices and games because they either berate the coaches, the referees or they are constantly nagging their child. Or the soccer parent who allegedly threatened a referee with a gun over a disputed call. There are stories about child prodigies and their ever present parent who coached them from the moment they could hold the tennis racket or golf club. Remember the You Tube video of the next soccer star - I think the kid was 9!
It's a bit much. What ever happened to signing up for sports at a recreational level? These days, it seems like if you don't get your kid enrolled in a sport by age 6, the child will lag behind others in that sport. Kids as young as 8 or 9 have baseball practices and games two nights a week. Nutty!
I know there are a multitude of reasons for getting children involved in sports or other physical activities. It occupies the child and tires them out. It's a great opportunity for more physical exercise, given our country's growing problem with obese children. It's also a chance for the children to meet others, learn how to play on a team, and develop some sports skills. After school sports also provides a time for parents to share in their children's lives by volunteering as a coach. If nothing else, there's all that time you get together in the car when you're chauffeuring your child to various activities. Sometimes it's because we have fond memories of participating in that sport when we were younger. And let's be honest, it's also about providing opportunities for our children that we may not have had ourselves.
Our monkeys are enrolled in various activities - dance, gymnastics, swimming and soccer. This is the last week of soccer, and it's been an experience. We didn't think Ceilidh would take to soccer, given her personality. She's surprised us all by how fast she can get from one end of the filed to the other, and she's learned how to play defence well. While she may be aggressive with her older brother, she's bit shy when she actually gets the ball. However, we've seen her give as good as she gets too. One game, an opposing player kept grabbing at Ceilidh's jersey whenever Ceilidh was near the soccer ball. Finally, Ceilidh gave into her natural instincts and pushed back with a "light" hip check the next time the same player got a fistful of her jersey. Down went the player, and Ceilidh had a clean shot at the ball. But as a 4 year old, there were many moments spent chatting with another player rather than chasing the ball.
Now Devlin, well that's been another story. The first two years of soccer, he dazzled us all with this speed on the field and he was adept at scoring goals too. This year, the playing field was of a different caliber. Now the league was all boys and the players were of varying heights (usually much taller), weights (more than Devlin!) and skill. There was a goalie on the field, and it's much harder to score when there's someone blocking your way. This soccer season was frustrating for Devlin, who often got knocked down by the larger players, but he still managed to improve as a defensive player. His smaller frame was ideal for getting into the scrum to kick out the ball, although not so great when he played net. His goalkeeping talents leave much to be desired. Think sieve.
Part of the problem of course, as with many 6 year olds, was an attention span that kept wandering away from the game. Too often, I found myself yelling "Keep your eyes on the ball" or "Devlin, stop fooling around and get ready for the ball!" There were other parents cheering, or "coaching" from the sidelines, and many others who were content to sit and watch and clap when a ball managed to find its way past the goalposts and goalie. It would be frustrating to watch Devlin's soccer games, and just as frustrating to watch Ceilidh's too. Why couldn't we be the parents who were happy to sit on the sidelines with a camera in one hand and a drink in the other? Why were we always "coaching" from the sidelines, yelling out where to look and when to run?
I guess the answer partly lies in our personalities. Both my husband and I are type A, uber-competitive souls. (I'm the first-born and a lawyer - how could I not be type A?) I think it's nearly impossible for either one of us to sit quietly and observe. You should see Wayne at a frisbee game! So we transpose our competitiveness and our desire to excel onto our children. Which is okay to a point. No one wants to raise a slacker. Children need to be motivated. Otherwise no one would be potty trained.
But there's a fine balance between wanting our children to excel and the idea that "winning is everything". I was reminded of that last night. As we snuggled together in bed, Devlin was pouty. In fact, he had been difficult all day. We got to the root of the problem.
Mommy: Did you have fun at soccer tonight?
Devlin: Yeah, but I didn't score any goals this year. Not like last year.
Mommy: But you did so well in being a defensive player this year. You supported your teammates by taking the ball away and passing it to them. That's a very important part of soccer too.
Devlin: But I'm not any good. I didn't score any goals.

Well, it hit me that perhaps our over-zealous desire to succeed had translated into scoring goals for our child. I re-iterated to him that scoring goals is not the most important thing. In fact, being a supportive team player and learning to master different skills is also important, if not more. I told him, above all else, it was about having fun. Did he have fun? Yes he did. Did he have fun at soccer camp the week before? Yes he did. Did he learn new things at soccer camp? Yes. Well then, goal accomplished.
As he fell asleep, I reminded him that our frisbee team isn't doing too well in the winning games aspect. However, it was about having fun, getting exercise and learning something new. As he slept, I had to repeat that mantra to myself and remind myself to repeat it often - to me, to my husband, to my children. I'm not planning on raising the next Pele or Tiger Woods. No. What I want is to raise children who are well-rounded in all aspects of life, who are not sore losers and can see success in all of its various forms.

Feminine Ideal?

My daughter Ceilidh is very much a "girly" girl. She loves to wear dresses and skirts. Pink is her favorite colour. Anything related to princesses are always a hit with her. Even as a toddler, she preferred dolls to other toys and she loves to play dress-up. Lately, accessories have been her obsession, especially costume jewellery.
However, I apparently do not measure up her standard of an ideal female. This morning, after detailing her bad dream, she changed the topic abruptly to my appearance, or lack of.
Ceilidh: Mommy, you need a new lipstick.
Mommy: Hmmm? (I'm trying to pay attention as I rush around the room looking for clothes while soothing Aisling who's woken up.)
C: New lipstick for your mouth. I saw it on t.v. (She then mimes putting on lipstick.)
M: Okay. Anything else?
C: You need some shadow for eyes too. Like this. (Then she mimes the application of eye shadow.)
M: Oh really. (Okay, I wear a minimal amount of cosmetics on a daily basis. On weekends, I probably wear none. While I am a proponent of the "au naturel" look, it's mainly because I'm too lazy and too rushed to put on anything more than eye-liner and mascara. I stopped wearing lipstick when I had kids because it always ended up on the babies.)
C: And you need to walk like this.
She then demonstrated a sultry gait, while flipping her back, and coquettishly looking over her shoulder! Like Jessica Rabbit but with bed head.

I was speechless.

Unhappy People are Parents?

So I've just read an interesting article on parenting from New York Magazine. It was recommended by a girlfriend who's also in the throes of joyous, or not so much, parenting. This article's premise rests on a slew of recent studies indicating that nonparents are happier than parents, and generally, dads are happier than moms. Why is that? Because we're all caught up in the minutiae of the grunt work. We're investing way too much energy in trying to be perfect parents, scurrying around to secure the best advantages for our rugrats, while trying to hold everything else together (ie careers, marriage, mortgage, physical well-being) that our mental health takes a toll.
Okay. It's true that children themselves do not create happiness. In fact, there's probably more moments in the day where we parents are pleading, begging, cajoling, bribing, bemoaning whatever the children are doing than there are moments of sheer unadulterated joy. But let's be honest, even with well-behaved kids, or without kids at all in the equation, how many moments of sheer outrageous glee do we really experience in a day?
I think it's very true that children add stressors to our lives. Financial, mental, physical, marital, logistical,  whatever - you name it. Having children always adds another dimension to whatever task you're facing. Booking a trip? Must consider whether the destination is child friendly. Are cribs provided? How long is the layover? Is there time for the kids to run off some pent-up energy? Will the airline allow for a stroller? Baby food? Extra charge for a tot that will on ingest breast milk?!
Purchasing a vehicle? Is the back seat large enough for two or car seats? Enough anchors? Child locks on doors and power windows? Can the seat fabric handle spilled drinks, melted ice cream and vomit? As a parent, fuel consumption takes a back seat to number of air bags and the safety ratings.
Going out for dinner? Is there a kid's menu, that doesn't feature fries? Does the restaurant have crayons?
Any idiot could tell you that having children complicates one's life. In fact, if I didn't have any, I'd probably look younger, more rested, more fit, and be dressed in the latest fashions. We'd probably travel more, most likely to exotic locales where hot dogs and french fries are nowhere to be found. There would definitely be more disposable income since money wouldn't be flying out the door for diapers, kids' clothing, lessons, toys, sports equipment, education funds. We'd see the latest movies, take in sports events, read the paper, watch late night t.v., live in a stylish condo, decorated with white suede sofas and breakable knick knacks, and dine out at restaurants where you don't pre-pay for your meal, and have to help yourself to the napkins and condiments. I don't think we'd drink more though. In fact, my alcohol consumption has increased dramatically since I became a parent. No, I don't have a "problem". Let's just say, at the end of a trying day filled with tantrums, poop, maybe some vomit, lots of tears, pulled hair, negotiations with stubborn souls (I'm NOT referring to my job here), a glass or two of fine (or cheap) wine is a welcome respite.
Part of why parents are so unhappy may be the pressures we are placing on ourselves to be "perfect" parents, and particularly for women, to become the elusive "supermom".  Parenting magazines are filled with helpful articles on time management and tips for raising a cooperative child. The newspapers are filled with articles on how children are becoming monsters, thanks to "helicopter" parents, or how the parents are taking the fun out of recreational sports. There was a recent incident of an overbearing soccer parent who threatened a referee with a gun over a call regarding that parent's child. Not to mention the tales of abusive hockey parents. Or there are articles about the female CEO who's achieved so much at such a young age, and a little blurb about how this power star is also raising a young family. Then there's Gisele Bundchen who spouts on about a need for a law to make breastfeeding mandatory for ALL mother for a period of six months!
There are so many mixed messages out there. Parents are evil. Parents are too involved. Parents aren't vigilant enough about their offspring's internet use. Moms should stay home when the children are young. Dads should stay home for a well-adjusted child. (Who's going to work and pay the bills?) Children shouldn't be fed packaged foods. Organic for all! Kids are obese. Too many organized activities leads to stressed out kids. To much idle time leads to weight problems. Working moms have high-striving daughters. Working moms have maladjusted sons. Really - is it any wonder parents are in a constant state of stress, with all this working to undermine whatever efforts we are putting in?
We seem to forget that for centuries, people have been raising children without the self-help books and parenting experts. Some might argue that life was simpler when we were all farmers or hunters and gatherers. But I'm quite sure that since the beginning of time, children have been misbehaving, crying for no reason, arguing with their siblings and talking back to their parents. We did, and that was a generation ago. So, let's get back to the basics. Which is? Having children does not equal happiness. Not having children also does not equal bliss. Rather, it's what you make of your life, whether it includes children or not.  To me, having my children has meant a life of never ending exhaustion punctuated by many brief moments of sheer delight. Whether it's laughter caused by Aisling finding Daddy's hat and handing it to him, only to discover it's a baby bonnet she's picked out.  Or it's Ceilidh who offers to kiss my boo-boos, even the blisters on my feet. It may be witnessing Devlin throw a softball at the dunktank and hitting the target, or seeing his face light up with pride as he masters cycling down a hill without falling off.  It's the moment I enter the house after a long day at the office, only to be bombarded by sticky hands and little bodies hurtling themselves at you, while chanting "Mommy, mommy, mommy". It's watching Aisling dance at dinner time, while eating her "nummy" noodles. It's seeing Ceilidh wiggle her hips to a simple tune on the radio, not yet caught up in issues of embarrassment or body-image. It is listening to Devlin negotiate for a better "deal" in evening snacks. It is having all three monkeys wriggle their way to be as close to you as physically possible for the nightly ritual of bedtime stories. All of these brief moments of pure, unadulterated bliss that my husband and I live for each and every day that makes the rest of the grueling task of parenthood manageable and tolerable. Or if nothing else, a glass of red wine, preferably from Spain or Australia.

Sibling Love - part 2

There are moments when all three of my children get along. The moments are fleeting. but they do happen. For instance, last evening, in the drizzly, humid, muddy conditions, all three of the Kim-McAllister monkeys played together, or at least appeared to, while Daddy and I were playing ultimate frisbee. Since it was too wet to play at the slides and swings (and I didn't trust that Aisling would actually keep her rubber boots on), I commanded them to remain by the bench. While ignoring my request to refrain from consuming the snacks until half time (everything was eaten within minutes of arriving), the three managed to amuse themselves by chasing each other with the umbrellas, setting up pylons, chasing each other, falling in the mud and concocting various imaginary adventures. At various times, the harmony fell apart because one child would not give back the umbrella, or because someone else had eaten the last cheese, or another little person was bonking the others on the head with the plastic pylons. This would invariably mean choral whining and crying, finger pointing as to who started 'it' this time.
Which I'm used to. It happens at least three to five times an hour. The perfect day would be one with only one major meltdown. Sometimes, I wonder if my children will ever get along peacefully especially when it's a regular occurrence to fight over who gets to sit next to Daddy at dinner time, and whose turn it is to pick the movie, and who gets to guess which song is playing on the radio, and then there's the shoving and pushing to sit in a coveted location. But then again, my adult siblings and I still have our moments.
Every once in awhile I catch a glimpse of their bond, like when they're sleeping, all curled up against each other, with limbs intertwined. Picture if you will, a litter of newborn pups dozing on top of each other. Or when they're negotiating with each other. On the weekend, Devlin wanted to watch certain episode of Justice League, although it was Ceilidh's turn to pick the movie. With a minimum of wailing, Devlin had managed to get his way. But not before he had promised to Ceilidh, to feed her breakfast, get her clothes for the day, pick up her toys and some other ridiculous task.
And sometimes, I see the younger siblings reciprocate the thoughtfulness. I took Ceilidh with me on a weekend errand run. To reward her for her patience, I gave in to her request for a treat and let her pick out cookies for dessert. Before making her final selection, she asked, "Do those have peanuts in them?"  I checked the ingredients and declared them to be peanut-free. "Good," she said as she clutched the cookies to her chest, "Devlin can have them too, and he'll like them."

Weekend mornings

We had taken the kids to the drive-in to see Cats and Dogs on Friday night. It was a perfect evening for a movie - cool, crisp, no mosquitoes. After gorging on buttery popcorn, Aisling fell asleep in my arms while the other two jostled for position in the front seats. Upon our return home, all three went to sleep almost immediately, and we took advantage of this to do the same. Sleep, uninterrupted for nine hours - a rare luxury.
The next morning, as the sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds, I fought the wave of drowsiness to surface to a state of semi-alertness. I squinted at the alarm clock, and started to wage a war with my self. Having prayed for humidity-free weather for weeks, this particular morning was perfect for a long morning run. I tried to rally my inner strength to harness my desire to maintain a healthy lifestyle so that it would propel me out of bed. Nothing was happening. Instead, my inherently lazy alter-ego was arguing about the benefits of a good night's sleep, and giving myself a well-deserved break every once in a while, completely ignoring the vast amount of buttered popcorn that had been consumed the previous evening.
On and on the battle waged while I drifted in and out of a light sleep, while cuddling a sleeping Aisling. Eventually, I called a halt to the great exercise debate, and swung one leg out of bed, only to be stopped by Aisling who reached out in her sleep to grab my arm while mumbling "Mommy, I cold. Blanket please."
So, I curled her into me and waited until she settled back down.
Five, maybe ten minutes later, I tried once again to force myself out of bed. This time, Aisling opened her eyes and smiled. When I tried to cuddle her back to sleep, she decided that sleeping was overrated and that it was playtime. There was much giggling as she poked and prodded various parts of my face and ears. "Mommy - nose! Mommy - eyes! Mommy - mouth!" she announced with glee as she jabbed the corresponding facial feature.
Then she climbed on top, and continued her poking and attempting to pry open my eyes. When I tickled her, there were gales of laughter which roused Daddy from his slumber. Soon, we heard the pitter patter of little feet. Upon hearing the fun, Ceilidh decided to join us and squeezed her way into the bed. It wasn't long before we heard the thud that announced Devlin's exit from his bed. Seeing there wasn't much room, Devlin simply stood up and then jumped on top of everyone. More screams and laughter. More tickling. More attempts to hide under the covers. More giggles.
At one point, my eyes met Daddy's and we knew we were thinking the same thing. There is nothing better than a weekend that starts with giggles and laughter. While I never did get to run that morning, surely all the endorphins that got released from this morning session made up for it, and without the accompanying sore muscles.

September already?

No, it's just the start of August, and summer is only half over, but September issues of magazines have been arriving in the mail. It's another reminder that summer is coming to an end. The malls are having their end of season clearance sales while displaying winter gear. The flyers are packed with "Back to School" sales. It's getting darker a little earlier. The reminders to register for fall term sports keep jamming up my inbox, and the magazines are filled with articles on lowering your stress levels as the school year starts. What? All of these "summer's ending" signs are enough to bring my stress levels up!
We wait so long for summer to arrive, and then it seems like we're rushing it along. Wait. Stop the clock. Let's enjoy these last few weeks of summer. Let's have a few more trips to the cottage and evenings spent licking popsicles. Let's revel in the humid heat because in a few short months, we'll be grumbling around cold weather. Let's have a few more movie nights at the drive-in, and picnics at the beach. Let's fire up the grill for barbecue, munch on watermelon and enjoy ice-cold beers while we watch our children frolic in the sprinklers and splash about.

Precocious Aisling!

Devlin is a cautious child who always needs a bit of encouragement to try a new activity. He's a tad shy too, but once he becomes accustomed to a new routine or environment, there's no stopping him. For example, in a matter of a two short weeks, he's now cycling up and down hills without hesitation and even pedalling standing up. Some might think this is a less admirable quality in a boy, but hey, I won't have to worry about Devlin attempting silly things like doing cartwheels down the banister.
Now, Ceilidh and Aisling, they're fearless creatures who will jump into the pool without thought or climb up to the highest slides without blinking an eye. They're both very friendly and will chat comfortably with anyone who smiles at them. This is a bit worrisome.
Last night, at Ceilidh's soccer game, Aisling and I played at the park. I pushed her on the swings and then she went to play be the slides. As Devlin was also nearby working the monkey bars, I left to watch the soccer game, a mere 50 meters away. Every once in a while I checked on Devlin and Aisling. After witnessing Ceilidh score a goal and also take away the ball from the opposing team, I headed back towards the play structure. I saw Aisling by the big kid swings, "chatting" with another toddler. As I got closer, I could see the other toddler was a boy. When I called out her name, she looked up, almost guiltily. Then she ignored me. She turned back to the little boy. I asked Aisling if she wanted Mommy to push her on the swing, and she declined. In fact, she offered her hand to the little boy and tried to persuade him to go over to the slide. The boy demurred, so she tried to drag him over. Once again he stood firm. So, she went off to the slide by herself.
Seeing that she was amusing herself, I went back to watch the last minute of the soccer game and to help collect our bikes. When I returned to Aisling, she was now chasing a different little boy around the play structure! She's barely 2 and she's already picking up boys!