Our Big Fat Alberta Vacation

The much anticipated vacation of the year has come and gone. We all took the trek out to Alberta to celebrate the twin cousins turning one and their baptism. Everyone from Ontario - including Uncle Billy, Auntie Grace and soon-to-be Uncle Dan, Halmuhnee and Habudgee, plus our rowdy gang of 6 - descended upon Auntie Shunaha's abode for several days of chaos and laughs.
Somehow, with one hour of sleep, Daddy and I woke our monkeys up at the ungodly hour of 4am to get ourselves to the airport. We thought we'd have plenty of time to grab a coffee before boarding. After spending twenty minutes fruitlessly searching for Quinn's lamb, I found Lamb 2.0 and hoped he wouldn't fuss. Then we couldn't find the correct entrance to the parking garage. A bit of a hiccup as our boarding passes were printed and we were sent off to another counter to check in the car seats. Then the ridiculous wait for the screening. At least, we didn't have to take off our shoes. We ran to our gate as our names were being paged for the final boarding call. Of course, our seats were at the rear of the plane. The passengers glared as we bopped them in the head with our backpacks and Quinn's errant foot.
It was a four hour flight. Hours 1 and 2 went smoothly, all things considered. Aisling slept. Devlin and Ceilidh occupied themselves with the television. Quinn started to lose it somewhere over Manitoba. By Saskatchewan, he was in full temper tantrum mode. I gave him a dose of gravol. It didn't help. I think it made it worse. We were that family with that kid - the one that was screaming loud enough to be heard over the roar of the jet's engines. Twenty minutes before we landed, Quinn finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
And so, our vacation started.
The highlights and low lights of our trip out west:
- being greeted at the door by a very excited cousin Mia
- seeing a bull elk, meandering near the parking lot, no more than 15 metres away, in Banff
- watching Mommy turn green on the 8 minute long gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain
- learning that both Aisling and Ceilidh had no qualms about the high ascent on the gondola ride, unlike their brother Devlin
- carrying Quinn in my arms,up a gazillion steps, to the summit of Sulphur Mountain

- relaxing in the hot springs
- Quinn having a full on meltdown on the side of the TransCanada highway 10 minutes from our exit
- picnicking next to a stream in beautiful Lake Louise

- hiking along Moraine Lake, breathing in the fresh mountain air and filling up on the gorgeous vista
- climbing up the rock pile with Quinn on my back and realizing the view up there was worth the effort

- watching Aisling's excitement at petting a brave and fat chipmunk that crept close to her
- realizing no matter how fit I thought I was, I was wiped out by running in the hilly neighbourhood where Auntie Shunaha lives
- Ceilidh's triumph at riding her first real roller coaster, loops and all
- hearing Quinn belch, loudly, during the baptism
- having strangers compliment me on on my well-behaved kids (that's because Quinn saved his "I'm sooo tired" meltdown for after the church service)
- celebrating Jacob and Hannah's first birthday in style

- realizing too late, that despite having everyone gathered together under one roof (16 people in all), we never managed to get a family portrait, formal or informal (this is the only one of the Kim sibs)

- driving through the Alberta badlands to visit some dinosaurs

- picnicking in Drumheller, and having the prairie dogs come begging for food (one ate a chip out of Mommy's hands)
- watching the kids try to tempt other prairie dogs with chips and celery sticks
- seeing Quinn stuff a handful of food down a prairie dog hole, in the hopes of tempting one to stick his head out (see Quinn pointing to the hole!)

- visiting the dinosaurs at the Royal Tyrell Museum

- bribing the kids out of the museum with the promise of candy (and dinosaur souvenirs - the tour ends in the gift shop!)

- spending time with our extended family

- sticker shock at spending $64 on 24 bottles of beer (thank gawd for the Beer Store and the LCBO in Ontario)
- cooling off at a splash pad

- Mommy having a meltdown at the airport when she couldn't find the passports (they were in a suitcase pocket and she forgot having put them there for safekeeping)
- realizing Quinn only slept 30 minutes yesterday, and didn't show any signs of sleepiness on the flight home, and yes, he was dosed with Benadryl in the misplaced hopes he'd have a nap
- Quinn getting a black eye just before boarding (he tripped and hit his face off a metal structure)
- Aisling having the puke bag up to her face for most of the flight home
- Mommy turning green on the flight from all the getting up and chasing Quinn
- both Mommy and Daddy forgetting where they parked the car after landing at 11pm


Conclusion -
Devlin already misses Calgary. And Mommy is vowing not to travel with Quinn again, for a looooong time. At least, on a flight longer than two hours.

Devlin's summer of mishaps

It seems like every week that Devlin has had an "accident" or some form of injury.
The first week of summer, there was a bee sting. Or maybe it was a wasp. He's not allergic to insect bites but it kiboshed the afternoon outing to the splash pad because of his hysterics.
Then he tripped over his own two feet, running into the living room. I heard a crash, and then a piercing scream that had my mother and me dropping everything to run over. Devlin was curled up in the fetal position, hands clamped over his eye. When I was able to pry away his hands, there was gigantic bump that appeared to grow larger by the second. An hour or two with the ice pack kept the swelling down, but the black eye was a beauty.
Then the next week, he managed to scrape a good chunk of skin off his heel. How?
Well, in an effort to be creative while recycling, my dear children used the large piece of cardboard from the basketball net backboard and fashioned a triangular shaped tube. They taped it together with duct tape. Then they crawled into the tube and slid down the slide in the backyard.
Yup. He caught his foot on the edge of the slide and cardboard. Maybe he could have avoided the injury if he he had worn shoes.
So he missed his hockey game because it hurt to put on the skates.
I would have thought that would have been enough to teach my kid a lesson.
I was wrong.
The following week, I arrived home one evening to be confronted by Devlin at the door, pulling down his lower lip so I could see the cut up mess he had.
"How?" I asked not really wanting to know the answer, lest it involved having to discipline his younger sisters for being too rough.
Apparently, he banged his lower face, when sliding down, head first, in the STUPID CARDBOARD TUBE!
I looked at my hapless child, my first born for whom I had so many hopes and dreams, and quite calmly, quoted my favorite line from Forrest Gump,  "Stupid is as stupid does".

Quinn's latest defensive/offensive tactic

He may be small, but he's a force to be reckoned with, and not lightly either.

Apparently, Quinn did not like seeing his older brother and Aisling fight. They were likely fighting over the remote control, or who got to sit in the treasured spot on the couch. So there was some fighting - some slaps and pushes and shoves. Then Quinn got involved. He ran over and joined forces with his brother to defeat Aisling. There was definitely some kicking and pulling of hair by Quinn.
I unfortunately did not witness this first hand. Had I been there, all three would have been disciplined appropriately.

But I did get to witness another classic Quinn moment.

He was attempting to get a hold of his older brother's newest Lego creation. Devlin was not pleased, having spent considerable time putting it together. Devlin was sitting at the dining room, with one hand holding the Lego above his head, and the other hand trying to keep Quinn from getting to close.
Screaming, Quinn was trying to reach the toys with both hands but was becoming frustrated with Devlin pushing him away. Alternatively, Devlin had one hand on Quinn's noggin, holding him off from getting any closer.
Once he realized he was not going to get the Lego, Quinn decided to simply show his displeasure and extreme disappointment. He started to lick. With his tongue out, he attacked the chair Devlin was sitting on, and whatever parts of Devlin's body was within reach. Extremely grossed out, Devlin leapt away, leaving behind a few lego peices which Quinn happily picked up.

I watched, and couldn't decide on whether to be stern and discipline or give into the giggles.

Rain, rain, go away!

This weekend SUCKS! That is the refrain I've been hearing over and over again...from my inner voice.
There was a time when I didn't mind rainy weekends, but that was before kids invaded my life. Back then, I would have spent a miserable water logged afternoon curled up on the couch with a good book, a cup of cocoa and a cozy blanket.
Now, a rainy weekend means wracking my brains trying to find a way to entertain my monsters.
It was bad enough that our weekend plans were altered at the last minute. My hopes of keeping the munchkins entertained with other pint sized creatures were dashed when the other family cancelled because of a broken finger. I bounced ideas off of the spouse and office colleagues. Came up with the brilliant plan of taking the kids to a pick your own farm! Great - a day spent doing manual labour in the sun, while reaping fruits (literally) for the week - what could be better? We decided we'd treat the kids to a special brunch out in honour of Ceilidh's 8th birthday, and head out to the farm after tennis lessons. And end the day with a marshmallow roast over a bonfire in the backyard.
Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate. Apparently the 40% chance of scattered showers became 100%. Tennis was cut short and stomping around in mud for some strawberries didn't seem so appealing after all. What to do with these energetic critters that were bouncing around the house?
Movie! We went to see the new Disney Planes movie - Fire and Rescue. It was great! AC/DC's Thunderstruck played in the background; there was a cheeky poke at the old 80's series "ChiPs"; lots of plane action for the kids - and Quinn kept all entertained with his comments throughout.
And there was hope that Sunday would be a day for the farm.
Nope. It's raining cats and dogs out there. And I've given up trying to clean the house while the monkey are running around creating a mess the moment I move away. So, I'm holed up in the bedroom trying to hide from the chaos, while my offspring are taking advantage of this miserable day. There's a kid playing a video game in the basement. Another one on the laptop playing a game on a website that will surely lead to more viruses on my computer. I think Aisling is watching a Barbie movie on the television, and I'm pretty sure I saw Quinn searching for a candy in the cupboard. The spouse is hiding in his office, surfing the internet.
At some point, I really should venture down and so some parenting. Seeking refuge in the bedroom is probably worse that not watching my kids at the park. Which is a crime in some parts of the United States. I'm sure you've heard the outrage over the woman who was jailed for letting her 9 year old daughter play in the park by herself while she worked at her minimum wage job at a nearby McDonalds. And to think that I let the two girls go to the nearby park last week by themselves, that is, without someone watching over them. Because sometimes I'm sick and tired of going to the park. Because I've got a thousand other tasks to take care of, and few other kids too. Because I know the soon to be 8 year old can be responsible at times. Because I know the park is a two and half minute walk away, and I'd rather they get some exercise and fresh air while I'm getting dinner prepared. Because they were told to return home immediately when their older brother came to give them the signal. Because at some point, I'm going to have cut the apron strings or umbilical cord and trust them. And because it's stupid to think that we can't let our kids be kids and play in a park without parental supervision.
And yes, I'm ranting. Because this weekend's weather SUCKS!

Teaching Empathy

I think the greatest lesson in life is learning empathy - the capacity to recognize the emotions that are being experienced by another, and then to act accordingly. It's not the same as being sympathetic, which is to sorry or compassion for another. I believe that when one is empathetic, one can provide a response that is more suited to the situation, a reaction if you will.It's more than giving a hug to another. It's recognizing that the other is in pain, or hurting, or happy and then finding a way to rectify or support the other during that crisis.
In kids, it's hard to teach either as children are not fully developed in their own awareness, let alone understanding how their actions impact those around them. (Yes, I've taken one or two child psychology courses in my time.)
Without getting into great details and discourses of the why, we've taught our children to apologize for hurting (either physically or emotionally) their siblings and others by providing hugs with their words. When they were very young, we made the offender apologize and hug almost immediately after the wrongful action. As they got older, and knowing the apology would be meaningless without some thought, the offender is asked to think about why they're being asked to apologize. Sometimes, they learn from the mini time-out, other times not so much as I witness the offensive behaviour a short time later.
Despite our unscientific method of dealing with our monkeys, sometimes I see moments of true tenderness and empathy from them. One night, all three older kids took turns reading a story to Quinn. Another evening as I getting ready for bed, I overheard Aisling trying to teach Quinn to sound out the letters of the alphabet.
Quinn, as the baby is often spoiled by not only me (yes I am the biggest culprit) but also by his siblings. More often than not, it's because we don't want to hear him cry. So, everyone gives into his demands, even the unreasonable ones. Just to avoid listening to the cries and the ensuing temper tantrum, his siblings will tune into the Power Rangers or Animal Mechanics, or hand over whatever toy they were playing with. I know this will only encourage his spoiled brat behaviour.
But the other night, I witnessed Quinn mimicking his elder siblings. Both Aisling and Quinn were in the tub, along with a gazillion cars. Aisling had none, and went to reach for a car. Quinn gathered them up close to his soapy body. Aisling pretended to cry, letting out a wailing sob. Quinn immediately offered her the cars.
It's not just Quinn who can be empathetic.
Last night, I fell ill with whatever bug the kids brought home. Not violently ill, but under the weather enough that I wanted to crawl into bed at 7pm and not wake up. So I did.
At some point, I felt kisses and gentle hugs from my kids. And whispers of "I hope you feel better". I felt Quinn curling up to me and placing his head on my shoulder.
In the morning, Ceilidh asked, "Did you throw up last night, Mommy?"
"No," I answered with a groan.
"Good job Mommy! You're going to be better then!" she praised while patting me on the head.

Forever in my memory - June 22, 2014

Today, my baby, my youngest child, ran up to me and launched himself onto me. As I caught him in my arms to swing him around, he laid his head against my shoulder, and said "I love my mama!" before planting a wet kiss on my cheek.
Then he ran off to either torment a sibling or find his toy.
Whatever. It didn't matter.
It was the first time he's ever verbalized his affection for mommy. Oh, there's been many cuddles and hugs. But to hear him say "I love my mama!" - the overwhelming emotions it created almost made the later tantrums bearable. His cherubic face and gleeful smile from that moment will forever be etched in my mind.

Happy Birthday Devlin

It hit me today, that ten years ago, I was labouring in a small hospital room, while my birthing coaches (soon-to-be Daddy and soon-to-be Auntie Grace) were watching a soccer game (Euro Cup). Not much has changed - Daddy watched a soccer game or two today (World Cup) and I'm still labouring, although in different ways and in different settings.
But it's been ten years, ten loooong years, since:
- I've had a decent night's sleep (starting with that ridonculously looong labour that lasted some 36 hours)
- I've put my needs before those of a small child's
- I've driven a vehicle without car seats
- I've had a bath alone,without some small child jumping in
- I've carried a purse without extra soothers, crayons, crackers and other kid friendly items
- I've been able to leave the house without checking for spit up on my clothes, saliva on legs, and random boogers here and there
- I've been able to leave with house without a child crying
- I've been able to sleep in
- I've been able to enjoy a really good cup of coffee from my favorite mug (not a travel mug) while reading the newspaper without interruption or having to re-heat the coffee some 6-7 times
- I've been able to just read a book from start to finish, in one afternoon, that didn't involve colourful pictures or rhyming or inane conversations between talking coloured bears or ponies
- that poop and pee has been part of our daily conversations
- I've been able to walk across the floor in a dark room without stepping on some godforsaken piece of lego or twist an ankle on a hot wheels car
- I've drank an entire bottle of wine in an evening (after all, one has to reasonably be sober in case there's an emergency in the middle of the night)
- a bulging diaper bag has become a fashion accessory for me
- I've come to the scary realization that some helpless thing not depended on my for sustenance and survival.

I can't believe my first-born child is ten years old. He still sleeps with his blankie, and asks for help with every minor task. He's not into girls (thank gawd) and believes in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. He gets excited over spaghetti dinners, and shrieks his delight if there's pie for dessert. He dreams of playing for the NHL but has also expressed an interest in becoming an engineer in case hockey doesn't work out. He's into Star Wars and asked me what a telegraph was the other day. (That really made me feel ancient.) He's a pretty good kid, despite the talking back, and dramatic overacting when he gets frustrated. He may have a career as a soccer player. And just like ten years ago, he still loves to cuddle with Mommy.

It's been ten years since my life changed irrevocably, immensely and indelibly. At many times during the day, hearing "Mommy" makes me cringe or wince, or reach for the nearest intoxicating beverage. But mostly, hearing a little monkey cry "Mommy" also makes my heart beat a little faster, and melt a little more.

Happy Birthday Devlin, and thank you for the past ten years of enrichening my life and filling it with an indescribable joy. From the moment you were placed in my arms, you've brought tears of joy and frustration, chaos and laughter, moments of pride and sheer desperation into our lives.
And I'm sure there's many more years of surprises, fears, new experiences and love to come.