And That’s Why They Invented Therapy

Little Miss Sunshine is turning six in a couple of weeks, so we are planning birthday parties and cakes and gifts and she’s getting excited.

So the other day she says to me, “Remember last year, on my birthday, when it was my WORST DAY EVER?”

And I’m all like, “You mean, the day when we went swimming, and had presents, then spent the afternoon at the museum of your choosing, then went out to eat the restaurant of your choosing, then had cake AND ice cream? THAT worst day ever?”

And she’s all, “Oh, yeah. But remember, you yelled at me. On my birthday. It was the worst ever.”

What she is referring to is this: when we were going out to the Museum of Civilization after lunch, I asked all three kids to get ready to go. But they were all wound up and nutso, and when I was packed up and ready I found three kids with no shoes and who had not been to the bathroom. And yes, I yelled, and if you want to know the truth, I even sent all three to their individual rooms for a few minutes while I calmed down. Then I politely asked them all if they wanted to go to the museum, and if so, could they GET READY ALREADY, and after 15 minutes we were on our way.

Then we went to the museum and had a great time. See also: cake, ice cream, gifts, etc.

So of course, all she remembers of that day is that I yelled at her. This, THIS, is the very definition of parenting to me. The good, the good, the good, the good – I will always remember. The bad, the ugly – that’s what leaves the impression on young minds.

It annoys me, but I know that that’s the way these things go. I have faith that providing a general aura of comfort and love and yes, cake and ice cream, will somehow result in a general good feeling about childhood, and all those bad moments will someday be amusing anecdotes told over Thanksgiving dinner, or possibly to her therapist.

Of course, this year for her birthday I’m considering skipping all the frills and just staying home in our PJs, while the kids make their own cereal for dinner. It’ll probably be her BEST BIRTHDAY EVER. FIGURES.

All Grown Up

Aw, we knew this day would come, but (sniff) so soon? Sunrise, sunset, etc. Turtlehead is all grown up!

Why, you ask? After (OMG, SO MANY) years in the blogging world, I am having my very first giveaway. HOLD. THE. PHONE.

It’s one I am very happy to support, too. I am in proud possession of 10, TEN, free family passes to the Museum of Agriculture and Food. It’s rebranding – adding the “Food” part to its name – but it’s still an awesome place for animal-lovers to visit.

I adore the Agriculture Museum, and I used to drag the kids there to see the baby animals every Easter, but my older two just HATED it. They hated the animals, they hated the barns, they even hated the play structure. What’s the Easter equivalent of Scrooge? Maybe ScroogeBunnies? That’s them.

How can you say no to this face? SCROOGEBUNNIES.
How can you say no to this face? SCROOGEBUNNIES.

And then! Along came Little Miss Sunshine, who loves animals. YAY. Now she and I pop over there about once a month in the afternoons, when the big kids are still in school, and visit the baby calves, and touch super soft lamb wool, and chat with the horses. We play on the play structure and try cake in the bakery and pick out the Queen Bee in the honey display.

Baby Goat at the Museum of Agriculture
Cow barn at the Museum of Agriculture
Horses at the Museum of Agriculture

Last time we were there, their new Learning Centre had just opened and we saw the new display, A Piece of Cake, which is interesting and cool and (the thing the Little Miss cares about) has a play kitchen. Bring a magazine. You’ll need it.

This egg incubator is in the new Learning Centre, too - if you time it right, you can see a new chick hatching.
This egg incubator is in the new Learning Centre, too – if you time it right, you can see a new chick hatching.

So needless to say, we have a membership there, and you should consider one too, especially given that a membership gives you access to the Museum of Science and Tech, AND the Museum of Aviation, as well. (Bonus: Your membership gives you a discount on the Star Wars exhibit currently showing at the Museum of Aviation, too.)

But if you’re not sure, you can win a family pass to try out the Museum of Agriculture and Food, right here, right now! The passes are for up to 2 adults and 3 kids, and let me just say, I like to see a family pass that allows for more than two kids. AWESOME.

Don't let this guy scare you. The horns are just for show.
Don’t let this guy scare you. The horns are just for show.

How to enter: Leave a comment on this post telling me what you like best about the Museum of Agriculture, or if you’ve never been, what you’re most looking forward to seeing. One entry per person. And I gotta tell you, since I have TEN passes to give away, and like ten people read this blog, your chances of winning are QUITE GOOD. You have until midnight on Thursday, May 30 to enter; I’ll do a random draw (if required) on May 31. Please leave me an email where you can be reached (leaving it in your comment profile is fine).

Good luck!

Other Places

Just a quick post to say that you can read my June column for Capital Parent Newspaper on their blog, over here. If you’d like a hard copy to cherish forever (i.e. if you are my mother), then you can pick one up at libraries and community centres around town.

You can also see a full archive of the columns I’ve written for them by going here.

Cat Deely is My Imaginary Best Friend

I can’t believe that I let things get so busy around here that I actually forgot to blog about the fact that DANCE! SHOW! started last night. Not that OTHER dance show, lower-case (i.e. Dancing With the Stars), but rather, the Queen of All Dance Shows, So You Think You Can Dance. Now that the Canadian version is kaput, I feel like it has been YEARS since I have seen dance show, and I am Super! Pumped! Can you not tell from the excessive use of capitals and exclamation marks?

CAN YOU NOT??!!??

I do not watch Dancing With the Stars at all, ever, but recently I caught a news item on Entertainment Weekly that suggested that that show is now featuring non-ballroom styles, like contemporary. Very interesting, lower-case dance show. You may try, but you will never, ever be Dance! Show! Give it up now.

So yes, Nigel and Cat and gang returned to the small screen last night, and are on again tonight, and within a few short weeks we’ll have a top 20 (I hope…this isn’t another one of those rotten shortened seasons, is it?), and then you can look forward to this blog being completely overwhelmed with dance show news.

And who doesn’t want that, AM I RIGHT?

In other news, I received donut pans for Mother’s Day (after Gal Smiley ever-so-casually sniffed out the appropriate size and number, just asking, NO REASON). Hello, allergy-free goodness.

Homemade Cake Donuts

Donuts, and Dance Show? NIRVANA.

Mother’s Day

My most favourite thing about Mother’s Day is the Super Secret Spy Missions that go on around here. About a week before, the kids decide they want to get me a gift (totally not required, but important to them, and it’s charming, and I get stuff, so that’s a win-win-win). Then they start sniffing around like they’re on Mission Impossible to try to figure out what I would like.

They’re kind of like Charlie’s Angels, with Sir Monkeypants as the suave, sexy Charlie. It’s a particularly apt comparison now that the Captain’s hair is long enough that he gets mistaken for a girl at least four or five times a week. The other day, he had a kid from his class over for “hanging out” (“We don’t call it a PLAYDATE, MOM”), and when the mom came to the door with her normal-haired son, she greeted a waiting Captain with, “Oh, are you the Captain’s sister?” All this, and still the refusal to get a haircut.

(He really would make a good Sabrina though, what with the planning and thinking and sensible long-sleeved outfits at all times. Gal Smiley would be Kelly, the one who is beautiful but also smart and who Gets Shit Done. The Little Miss was born to be Jill, the one who uses her eyelashes to flirt information out of the most hardened of bad guys. Huh. I have given birth to Charlie’s Angels, who knew.)

So what’s been going on around here the past few days are incidents where I say stuff like, “Man, I could REALLY USE a new pasta strainer. This one has been broken for ages! If only I had a NEW ONE.” Then the kids rush off to Sir Monkeypants and there is a flurry of whispering, and planning, and concocting. SO ADORABLE.

Sometimes one of them, selected for the dangerous undercover part of the plan, will slink into the kitchen and oh-so-casually ask me some related questions, like if I DID get a new strainer, should it have a handle? And by the way, no reason, what’s your favourite colour of strainer? Then it’s rush back to dad for more whispered conferring and discussing and giggling behind hands, totally convinced they have come up with a BRILLIANT GIFT IDEA all on their own, and I will NEVER GUESS what they have in mind.

SO. CUTE.

Then at the end of it, they sit beaming as I unwrap my new strainer and exclaim about how I really wanted one! And how did you know! And this is amazing!

It’s the absolute best. Happy Mother’s Day!

[Edited to add: Just got back from the farmer’s market where the honey stand vendor asked the Captain if he has been a good little girl today. HA! I’m thinking The Hair needs its own post.]

Changing Times

The other day I was at the Superstore and there was a dad with his two very young sons in the lunch-stuff aisle. The boys, about 2 and 4, were excited to have found Thomas The Tank Engine cups, featuring Thomas AND Percy. The dad was helping them pick one out and the youngest, in particular, was cooing “Tom-as! Pwer-cee!” and I was so touched. Once we had a train-lover too.

Then I came home, and got out the Captain’s Thomas sheet-and-blanket set, which hasn’t seen the light of day in a couple of years, and I put it in the donations pile. And then I took it back out again. Then I put it back in again. Then out, then in…then, in. I’m pretty sure it’s staying this time. He won’t use it again and we don’t have space to store it and some other little boy, maybe that boy from the Superstore, might end up with it and love it as much as the Captain did.

So it’s a good thing, but a sad thing.

The other day the Little Miss pulled her stuffed Iggle Piggle out of the bottom of the toy bin. We got out her Upsy Daisy and Makka Pakka action figures and played In The Night Garden all morning, a show we haven’t heard mention of in at least two years. She remembered a surprising amount of detail, and asked if we could watch an episode or two. So I went to the PVR to set up a timer, and it wasn’t on anywhere, on any channel, at any time.

In the Night Garden, just gone. Except for memories of the Tombliboos riding the Ninky Nock and having their pants fall off (HILARIOUS), and the goodnight Iggle Piggle song. Cable TV is telling me it’s time to move on.

The other day the Little Miss and I were at the Agriculture Farm, and it was us two and about a dozen other moms with really young kids, toddlers and babies. Little Miss Sunshine and I were doing our own thing while the other moms shot us apologetic smiles and tried to corral their kids. I knew the look they had on their faces, the look that says I’m sorry, but also, aren’t you proud of me for getting out of the house with kids? I am MAKING IT HAPPEN.

And I have been there, and I know what a triumph it is to take three kids under 5 out to a museum for the afternoon, but you know what? I was kind of over it. I just wanted to read the displays in peace and help the Little Miss make a butterfly out of apples and carrots without having it be sneezed on or snatched by toddler hands or eaten by someone else.

And then I realized that although I love my kids and love being a mom, I am, at heart, not a Kids Person (voted most likely to never have kids, or worse, leave them behind in a grocery store, by my own mother). And now that my kids are getting older and aren’t interested in Thomas and have grown past the time of Iggle Piggle and can make their own apple-and-carrot butterfly, I’m regressing.

Or possibly moving forward.

Either way, times are changing.

The Church of Daniel Tiger

Little Miss Sunshine has a new show she follows. It’s called Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood.

Those who are old, like me, may remember Daniel Tiger from the children’s classic TV show Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. He was a rather ugly tiger puppet in a red hoodie who chit-chatted with the big guy on occasion, usually just before Trolley arrived (“ching-ching!”) to head off into the imagination land area. There was a cat puppet, too, Katarina (“what are we doing today, meow meow?”).

Now Daniel and Katarina and many of the other people from the show (but not Fred Rodgers himself, because this isn’t a show about zombies) have their own animated cartoon on PBS and it’s really, really adorable. I was never a fan of the original Mr. Rogers, and I realize that is TOTAL SACRILEGE, but I found his show slow, and boring, and the way he talked directly into the camera kind of freaked me out, to be frank. My older sister would watch it occasionally and I would go off and read a Nancy Drew book and sniff at how uncivilized and uncultured she was.

Anyway! The new show is cute, and features Trolley prominently, and even though I hated the original show I always kind of choke up when Trolley goes “ching-ching” because that sound, I don’t know, it is so ingrained in my head as being tied to my youth, my really really young youth, it puts some sort of nostalgic glow over the whole earth and brings a tear to my eye. I know, it makes no sense, but there you have it.

My real point here is that the new show has these little Life Lesson Songs in each episode. These Life Lesson Songs are meant to teach kids a single important lesson. And they are like crack to the Little Miss – they have become her mantras, her bible, her go-to phrases for every conceivable situation.

For example, if I thank her for doing something helpful, she might break out with, “Friends help each other, yes they do, it’s true.” Or when I tell the kids they have to take turns, there’s this little ditty: “You can take a turn, and then I’ll get it back.” Or, any time she is making one of a thousand coloring pages she makes every day, “Making something is one way to say ‘I love you’.” (Thanks for that one, Daniel Tiger – our walls are collapsing under the weight of artwork, eek.)

(You can listen to a clip of that last one here, and now I have just learned that MP3s of these tunes can be purchased, so it’s a beautiful day in the neighbourhood, INDEED.)

(Not a sponsored link, by the way. I’m way too lazy to figure that crap out.)

I personally love this one, for new situations – “When we do something new, let’s talk about what we’ll do.”

This one is popular with all the kids, especially the Captain, because 10-years-old is definitely for sure not too old for potty humour. He busts it out every time he’s off to the bathroom.

Despite pulling out a Daniel-Tigerism for most situations, the Little Miss does get pretty peeved when we bust out this one at dinnertime (“You gotta try a new food ’cause it might taste good!”). It’s apparently one part of the cannon that she chooses to take as merely a suggestion. Sorry, Daniel.

We could definitely do way, way worse than to have a kid that lives her life According to Daniel Tiger (ooh, new blog idea: What Would Daniel Tiger Do?). So I’m happy to embrace the new mantras – ching-ching.

The Mysteries of Facebook

Hey, I have a Facebook page!

If you’re new around here, you can head over there to see what’s happening this week in Ottawa for families. I usually update it on Mondays, except this week when I totally forgot, but it’s up now.

If you’re already following my page via Facebook’s mysterious and unreasonable “like” feature, you may not be aware that not everything I post on the page will show up in your timeline. Facebook seems to pick out four or five of my weekly posts to actually include in people’s timelines, and it’s random, and I don’t get it because I have The Old Fogey.

But if you’re interested in Ottawa events, you might want to actually click through and view the page itself to see everything. Or you can see stuff in the sidebar widget I have (that way –>).

Or you can ignore it. Actually, if you do find it useful, maybe drop me a comment? I’ve been wondering lately if it’s all worth it. Although, at the least, it does tend to get us out of the house from time to time, which is not a bad thing, no, not at all.

Still Learning

The other day, I took Little Miss Sunshine shopping. She loves dresses, especially twirly dresses, and most of her sundresses from last year were too small, and heaven knows Gal Smiley would not be caught DEAD in a dress, so there weren’t any hand-me-downs coming the way of the Little Miss, either.

So, to the mall.

Now, there’s very little in life I hate more than shopping for clothes. Even the thought gives me hives. For myself, I’ve come to count on two or three stores and when I need something new, I go to these stores and pick out something in my size from the sale rack and buy it without trying it on, because trying things on is evil.

And if there’s one thing worse than shopping for yourself, it’s spending two hours at the mall in clothes stores with cranky, hot children in tow.

And if there’s one thing worse than clothes shopping at the mall with children, it’s shopping at Bayshore, which is currently undergoing some sort of massive campaign to prevent people from shopping there by slowly shutting down parts of the parking garage, until we’re all left to fight over the 10 remaining spaces in a Hunger Games style there-can-be-only-10 elimination to the death.

So, to the mall.

And you know what? I actually had a delightful time. It turns out the Little Miss actually likes clothes. She likes shopping for clothes. She likes picking things out and trying things on (testing them for twirl-ability) and even the part where we decide if something is worth the price or not. She was cheerful about things that weren’t quite right or were too expensive, she was over-the-moon at things we actually took home.

We had lunch in the food court when she seemed to be fading, and we chatted about her day. Then it was back to the stores, where we scored a few Serious Bargains, and then home to try on everything and decide which would be the winner of Dress That Goes To Pick Up The Big Kids.

I…enjoyed shopping. It was so, so odd. But good odd, you know? A new dawn of mother-daughter moments. I never knew I had The Girly in me like this.

In other news, today is my 17th wedding anniversary, so shout out to the lovely, lovely man who gave me a great life, a great family, and access to awesome mother-daughter shopping trips. I never knew I what I was missing out on until I met you. And since there is no “thing” for number 17 – no paper, no wood, no cotton, no Modern Day Watches – we’ll just have to call it “new car anniversary,” don’t you think?

Engineered Plagues and Zen Gardens

We have a really weird bug going through the family right now. It starts with a day of headaches and random bouts of sneezing; the next day brings a sore tummy culminating in a politely contained, single bout of vomiting; followed by a third day of low appetite and slight fever; then, on the fourth day, you break out into typical cold symptoms, like stuffy nose and a cough.

It’s like some intern at a genetic engineering lab decided to create a superbug with every possible symptom in it, but then was only skilled enough to make it really mild on all fronts. So we get the full monty of stuff going on, but nothing too intense in any respect. I am mystified.

In any case, it’s been several days of watching movies and sipping tea and eating cookies (well, that part is just me, any excuse to eat cookies, I say). In good news, I think we may have secretly converted the kids to fans of The Princess Bride, even though they all swore they would hate it until the day they die. I guess, when viewed with a mild fever and near-starvation hunger levels, it suddenly becomes hilarious. Guess that’s why I loved it so much in university. Badda boom.

The kids have also spent a huge, huge amount of time monitoring Sir Monkeypants’ Zen Garden. Lest you think he’s some kind of new age gardener, his Zen Garden has something to do with the video game Plants vs. Zombies. I have no first hand knowledge but apparently there is a snail named Stinky and he is some sort of Tamagachi thing (dating myself there) where you have to feed him from time to time and he grows stuff and this is…a good thing for the game, somehow?

Whatever. I’m just thrilled to see them taking care of something, instead of being cared for, for a change. Next step: transitioning them to actual lawn care. That, and getting them to work the phrase, “I am not left handed” into everyday life. Neither should be too tough, don’t you think?