A moment of pride

Last week, I received a phone call from the school.  There was a feeling of dread as I momentarily hesitated before answering the call. My previous dealings with phone calls from the school have consisted of requests to pick up a sick child or a relaying of a tale of misbehaving on the part of my child.  So it was a wonderfully pleasant surprise to be told that Devlin would be receiving the Student of the Month award at an assembly in two day's time, and that we were more than welcome to attend. Oh, and to please keep it to ourselves as it was to be a surprise for the recipient.
As soon as I got off the phone with the teacher, I called my spouse. After expressing his initial happiness, he asked what Devlin had done to receive the award. A fair question, as his last two math quizzes were disappointing. I hadn't asked, as I had been a bit stunned.
"Let's just revel in the news. Don't question it! It's nice to hear that he's finally 'getting' school," I stated emphatically.
The day of the assembly arrived, and we did our best to act nonchalant as we dropped Ceilidh and Devlin off at school, and then snuck back to enter the gymnasium for the monthly awards assembly.
This particular school recognizes its students' achievements on a monthly basis. There are good citizenship awards, as well as Student of the Month awards for improvements in academics. Every teacher, save for kindergarten, selects one or several students to laud at the assembly. As we sat through the hour long presentation, it did seem like it was an exercise in rewarding mediocrity. Or rather, finding the smallest reason to praise.
And yet, even without knowing why he was being singled out this month, I felt a bubble of pride growing inside of me, and threatening to burst forth in a silly smile. Of course, the grade two class was the last grade to hand out its awards. All the while, I had the camera ready. Finally, the grade two teachers took their position at the front of the gym.
Devlin was awarded Student of the Month for his improvement in writing and learning to work independently. He had a huge toothy grin on his face as he took his spot at the front, after shaking hands with his teacher and the principal. His face was beaming as he proudly held up his award. I think I felt a tear or two cloud my vision.
Way to go, Devlin!

Eagle-eyed Monkeys

As Christmas Day approaches, I have been busy wrapping gifts whenever I have a spare moment without any little pairs of curious eyes around. One afternoon, while Devlin and Ceilidh were at school and Aisling was napping, I managed to wrap a few items, and decided to put them under the tree instead of back in my hiding spot.
Of course, the kids noticed the addition of the several parcels under the tree. One of which was labelled "To Mia, From Santa". Which created an uproar.
"How come there's a present for Mia from Santa when he hasn't even come by yet?" they demanded.
I had forgotten to read the labels before placing the packages under the tree and also forgotten how skilled at reading Devlin and Ceilidh has become.
I searched my tired and foggy brain for a suitable explanation.
"Well, Mia has been a good little girl all year, so Santa decided to send up some of her gifts with the mailman early. To make his sleigh a little lighter. You three - well, he's still deciding on which list your names appear. So, you've got a few more days to be nice, not naughty," I blathered.
The monkeys appeared to be satisfied and accepting of that excuse.

The Waiting Game

Sometimes I wish I had opted for the scheduled c-section. Then I wouldn't be in this state of impatience, waiting for the inevitable signs of labour. I would have known well in advance of Baby #4's arrival, made plans for the actual date, and organized my Christmas shopping and baking around it.
Instead, we decided to go with the element of surprise - which totally goes against our Type A personalities. We have no idea whether Baby #4 is a girl or a boy, although all the inmates of the zoo are rooting for a boy. We have no idea when the stork will make its way to our brightly decorated home. Given that all of its siblings arrived before the due date, we are laying odds that Baby #4 will make its appearance before December 30th, but when exactly?! Of course, it this child goes against the established pattern, and comes late, it'll be a tell-tale sign of its stubborn personality - something I'm not looking forward to in the youngest.
So, with no idea of Baby#4's timetable, I have been super-organized mom-to-be, preparing for its arrival and Christmas well in advance. A good portion of the Christmas shopping was accomplished in October and November. Teacher's gifts were prepared two weeks ago. The baking hasn't quite begun but the dough is prepped, in the freezer ready to be rolled out and decorated. The gifts are nearly all wrapped. The suitcase is packed and waiting by the door. The layette is washed and folded away. I have a two month supply of diapers in the closet. All that's missing is the guest of honour.
I am waddling around, unable to sleep, battling heartburn and willing all the Braxton-Hicks contractions to become the real thing. Meanwhile, Baby #4 appears to be content to stretch and kick my ribs while contorting my belly into odd figures that fascinate its siblings who are more eager for Baby's arrival than Santa's impending visit.
So, when are you planning to arrive, Baby #4? We're all eagerly and anxiously awaiting your arrival. (Of course, my discomfort at this stage of the pregnancy has nothing to do with my impatience!)

Playdates - They're not for the kids!

I've been hosting several play dates lately. It seems like every weekend, we have an extra little person running around the house. It may seem crazy to the uninitiated, that I - 9.5 months pregnant and impatient for the arrival of baby #4 - would welcome the presence of another child, not related to me, in my home. But, as I've discovered, with the right age group and the right playmate, the play dates are really for the adults.
When the kids were little, and not yet crawling, these play dates were thinly disguised as mommy get-togethers. An opportunity to chat with an adult about something other than whose turn it was to change the poopy diaper or argue whose turn it was to lug another load of laundry down the stairs. As the babies slept in their car seats or cooed contently, the afternoon meetings were a chance to commiserate over the lack of quality sleep, lack of understanding spouses, and the baby weight that was not coming off as easily as it did for the Hollywood moms. We moms would exchange tips on dealing with diaper, discuss the best places for sales and exchange recipes for quick and easy meals.
As the babies became toddlers and more mobile, playdates became more of a rarity as it was difficult to complete a sentence with another without being interrupted to chase after an overly curious walker or intervene a tug-of-war over a toy. Play dates with pre-schoolers can also be tough with little egos and the fickle quality of children. How quickly "my bestest friend" becomes "she's not the boss of me" and "he won't share!"
But now that my monkeys are a bit older and more capable of entertaining themselves and their friends, I have discovered play dates are a wonderful opportunity to get a some chores done without having to listen to the age old refrain of "I'm bored - I have nothing to do!" On one recent afternoon, I managed to prepare three days' worth of meals and do two loads of laundry while keeping an eye and ear on Ceilidh, Aisling and their two friends. A light snack halfway through the afternoon and popping in a DVD towards the end was all that I was really required to do. And the parents of the playmates scored an unexpected afternoon for early Christmas shopping.
My one rule, generally, for play dates is that only one child gets to host a friend at a time. So one afternoon, Devlin gets to invite a friend. The next weekend, it's Ceilidh's turn. That way, I am definitely insured of a conflict-free afternoon which enables me to get some chores done, and enjoy a coffee while everyone else is occupied.
I would think it's a win-win situation for everyone. The parents of the invitee (who almost always are more than happy to accept on behalf of their child) get a few free hours to themselves, I also get free entertainment for a child, and the kids score an afternoon of fun.
But alas, there are some parents out there who are NOT so cool with an invitation for an afternoon of play fun. One day I received a phone call from a concerned parent who was not happy about the invitation. Apparently, Devlin had invited a classmate over for the weekend. This particular classmate's mother called to say she knew nothing of the invitation until her son told her about it ( I didn't realize I had to issue a formal invite on paper!) and had to get our phone number from another parent. When I asked if there was a problem, she indicated her son was allergic to peanuts. My response was there wouldn't be an issue with that since Devlin is also allergic to peanuts, so we have a peanut-free household. Then came the crux of her hesitation - she was uncomfortable with the idea of letting her "baby go" and that they normally don't do "these things". Whatever. The "baby" is now in grade two and if you don't do play dates, then fine. Although, I distinctly recall this particular "baby" being present at another classmate's home when Devlin went over for a play date. So, I graciously offered her an out. I tactfully suggested she call back the next day to set up a drop-off time, and then I hung up. She never called back, which was fine with me. Then I remembered that this was the same woman who informed me she didn't have an epi-pen for her son with the peanut allergies when Devlin invited him to his birthday party. Talk about negligence! Especially given her concern for her "baby". But since her son really wanted to attend Devlin's birthday party, I had to assure the lady that the party was being held at a nut-free facility, we had peanut allergies in our own family, and we would have an epi-pen on site - just in case!
Other than that unfortunate episode, weekend play dates have been an economical method of providing entertainment for my kids, and given us the chance to assess their friends. The only complaint from our kids have been the clean up of toys afterwards. It seems that some parents haven't taught their kids to help clean up the toys when they're done playing!

Can adults believe in Santa Claus?

Sometimes, I really wish life was like the movies. The Christmas movies that portray legions of tiny creatures with pointed ears frantically but happily making the toys for all the boys and girls of the world who made it to the "nice" list. If that were so, then I wouldn't be panicking and tearing my hair out trying to locate a Hot Wheels Wall Track kit for my first-born child. It's only December 6th, (18 days before the big DAY) and the toy stores across the GTA have sold out of the hottest must-have item for the year.
I swore to myself that I wouldn't be that mom who had to fulfill their child's Christmas wish list, nor would I be that crazed parent driving from store to store to obtain the much coveted item. In fact, being organized and all, I did actually do most of the Christmas shopping in October. But the kids got to sit on Santa's lap last week at a Christmas dinner event, and whisper their wish list to the jolly fat man in the red suit. And a day later they repeated that list to their grandmother. And once again, when they started to compose their letters for the North Pole. Ceilidh has been asking for a La-la Loopsy Doll, and I have no idea what that is. Aisling wants a Barbie princess doll, and Devlin has been raving about the Hot Wheels Wall Tracks. And every time a commercial for one of those items comes on the television, I am summoned with all sorts of urgency and fanfare to view the desired toys. Since my monkeys were not asking for the entire toy store, and I remembered what it was like to see the Fashion plates I had so desperately wanted under the Christmas tree when I was 8, I decided to see if we could fulfill their Christmas wish list.
So, after seeing the Toys R Us flyer, I spent a lunch hour at the dreaded toy store. I braved the crazed shopping crowd, and was rewarded with a Barbie princess doll at 50% off and a La-la Loopsy doll which was also on sale. (Incidentally, there were several different types of the La-la dolls, I picked the one I think Ceilidh will like. Personally, they looked a bit creepy.) But alas, no Hot Wheels Wall Tracks. All sold out. So I called some other Toys R Us stores. When I asked about the Hot Wheels Wall Tracks, no success. And of course, no one could confirm whether or not there would be more shipments before Christmas.
So, if anyone out there knows where I can get my hands on a Hot Wheels Wall Tracks, please please point me in the right direction. Unless of course, there really are legions of little people with pointed ears toiling away in a workshop up north, making the toys and will drop a set off under our Christmas tress this year?