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?

Wii Buddies

Here’s how much my son loves video games:

Him: Mom, want to play Harry Potter Wii with me?

Me: Sure, but I have to get dressed first.

Him: Okay, I’ll set it up.

Me: There’s no rush, I’ll be 15 minutes or so.

Him: Why?

Me: Well, I have to wash my face and put on some makeup, comb my hair, and go to the bathroom, too.

Him: Okay. I will come up with you and see if I can do anything to help.

Me: Oooooooookay.

Then he hung around the bathroom door, asking every 30 seconds if there was anything he could do. Thanks honey – I can wipe my own butt, but how about you go downstairs and make me a gin and tonic?

SHEESH.

Gettin Crafty Wid It – Harry Potter Wands

It’s been forever since I did any crafting around here, because I’m way too busy freaking out over the state of the now-revealed lawn. Why, oh why, did I ever wish for spring, when I had all that lovely winter snow covering up the grub-infested carpet of weeds that is our so-called lawn? I am seriously considering astroturf.

Anyway! A couple of days ago, I did find time to do a craft, mostly at the Little Miss’ insistence. So that means blog! fodder!

We made magic wands, but not girly wands, the kind you can buy in the store with purple feathers and sparkles and ribbons. These are wands made for pure magic, the kind that would make Harry Potter proud. I actually first made one a few years ago, when the Captain was Harry Potter for Halloween. At the time, I also made one for Gal Smiley, and with the Captain’s new found love of all things Harry, they’ve been running around here with their wands yelling “Wingardium leviosa!” and “Expectro Patronum” and “Bringy Meith a Sandwichia!”

Here’s what one looks like (click to enlarge all images):

Harry Potter Style Wand

Sadly, Gal Smiley snapped hers in half last week (not all sad – she pretended to be Ron from book 2 most of the time), and poor Little Miss never had one in the first place. So it was time to get crafty with it. I am grooooovy, man.

Let’s craft!

First, you will need to gather:

  • a piece of dowel – about 3/16 to 1/4 inch thick
  • a glue gun
  • a saw, or perhaps some scissors
  • sandpaper
  • black paint
  • glitter glue

Now, take your piece of dowel and cut it to length. Somewhere around 10 to 14 inches is good, depending on the size of your kid. If your dowel is thin enough (thinner than 1/4 inch), you might be able to just snip it with a tough pair of scissors. If it’s a little thicker, it might take a few strokes with a hand saw to snap it.

Sawing the Dowel to length

The end will be all rough, so sand it down. You want one end flat, and the other end slightly rounded. If you were super creative and had a lot of time on your hands, you could taper the whole thing from base to tip, like the “real” wands used in the movies. But I’m lazy so I just filed off the sharp bits with some medium grain sandpaper.

Sanding

Now, heat up the glue gun. First, use the gun to put a ring of glue around the flat base. Then, put another ring about a hand’s width up the shaft. This forms the “handle” part of the wand.

Handle part

Then take the glue gun, and for shaft part above the handle, make a pretty pattern. What I do is spin the wand while applying the glue, then twirl around at the top and come back down, so it ends up making a criss-crossed pattern.

You’ll want to leave about an inch of bare wood at the tip to make it look good.

With glue

WARNING, this gluing part is pretty annoying. The glue gets everywhere and I’m not going to lie to you, there will be cursing. Luckily, we are going for an organic vines-growing kind of effect here, so don’t worry about making it smooth and even. Even slips and slops are okay. If you get some of those little thin stringy bits hanging off the sides like hairs, you can let them cool slightly and then snap them off with your fingers, or let them dry completely and cut them off with scissors.

In any case, once you have the glue on, use the tip to lean it against something and give it an hour or so to dry.

glue drying

Once the glue is dry, it’s time to paint it. Previously, I always made the wands black, but the Little Miss asked for purple, so I tried to mix up the most dark, badass purple I could, and used that on hers. Last time I made these, I used a satin finish black wall paint I had kicking around from another project. This time, I just used Crayola craft paint. Both worked well, but the satin finish paint made for a cooler looking wand and also a nice, smooth feeling to the handle part, and the kids definitely prefer that. So if you have access to glossy paint, I’d recommend that; otherwise, just use craft paint and they’ll never know the difference.

painting

You want to paint all over everything, including the glue. Really lay it on there thick; you might need to come back in half an hour and put on a second coat. Also you’ll have to come back to touch up the spots where it was resting as it dried.

Literal shot of paint drying

Here’s a shot of them once all the paint is dry.

dry paint

Time for the last step! Get some glitter glue – here the kids customized their wands by choosing their own colour of glue, and apparently various colours represent various magic and Reducto and blah blah. Squeeze a puddle of glitter glue onto a bit of newspaper. Dip your finger in the glittler glue and rub it on just the glue-gun-design parts of the wand, to highlight them.

adding glitter

Give the glitter a few minutes to dry, and voila! AVADA KADAVRA.

finished wand

Or whatever.

Immersion

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a while, but it always devolves in my head to a bit of a ranty, sad, whine-fest. So then I don’t write it, but my mind keeps coming back to it, so I’m thinking it would be a good mental purge for me just to get it all down, already. So warning: whining follows.

Today’s subject is French Immersion.

When the Captain was in JK, we had to decide if we wanted him to enter the French Immersion program the following year. Our school offers only early French Immersion (EFI), which starts in SK.

It was a really, really hard decision for us. On one hand, we don’t speak French and worried we wouldn’t be able to help him with his schoolwork. It seemed like a lot of stress and work to dump on such a little kid, when we didn’t even know yet how he would feel about school, how he would do in school, and whether or not he liked languages.

On the other hand, everyone and their sister was choosing EFI. That meant that all his friends were going into the EFI class, and so few were choosing English, it was almost unsustainable. At our school, about 90% of kids choose EFI, meaning the handful of kids in the English stream are doomed to split classes, less funding, less attention, and fewer opportunities than the EFI kids.

And worse, there’s a feeling around here that EFI is for “smart kids” while English is for “troubled kids.” It SUCKS, it is NOT TRUE, but that’s what his happening around here. It’s why so many choose EFI – because their kid is smart! And should be in the “advanced” stream! So there’s a ton, a TON, of pressure from all sides to go the EFI route.

And so we did.

The Captain is now in Grade 4, so I’ve been thinking lately about our EFI choice. I guess there’s good things about it. He’s with his friends, he has learned quite a bit of French. His spelling and grammar sucks in both languages, but apparently that’s expected for FI students, and works itself out eventually.

What really bothers me, though, is this: he hates school.

Perhaps hates is too strong of a word. He goes there happily enough and does his work without too much complaint. But the thing is, school to him is work. A terrible amount of work. He struggles to read and write. He often does not understand what the teacher is saying. He gets instructions wrong or misses out on deliverables.

Right now they are reading a Magic Treehouse book, in French, and they have to analyze it chapter by chapter. We happen to have the same book at home in English, and one day he was reading the English version and declared it to be completely, totally, different than the French version. News flash: they are IDENTICAL. But he was missing so much of the French, he literally did not understand what was happening in the book until he read the English version.

That makes me sad.

I try not to get too hung up on marks, but what worries me is how hard both the Captain and Gal Smiley try to get out of schoolwork. How tired they are at the end of the day. How much they equate “learning” with “hard” and “impossible” and “terrible torture.” I love learning. I love reading. I loved school. They most definitely do not.

There are almost no resources in the school system for kids in EFI who are struggling. There’s no reading help, no comprehension help, no math help in French. If a child is really hurting, they just switch him to English (which is really helping with the English stream’s reputation as the lesser of the two, NOT).

The kids’ teachers both say that what our kids need is even more immersion. Make them read in French every day, they say. Watch French TV shows, listen to French radio.

But such things are met with groans, even tears. It’s too much – they already have so much homework, both assigned and from things they have been unable to get through in class. They’re already tired of French and hate French and just want to spend their evenings being kids. I find it hard to deny them that.

Plus, the Captain has finally, FINALLY, discovered reading – he is INTO the Harry Potter books. I’m so happy I could weep with relief – I can’t risk snuffing out this new, tender flame by suggesting he pick up a French book instead. That would turn something fun into work.

So, would I choose it again? That’s a tough, tough question. All the pressures for choosing EFI still exist. The English stream at our school is just too small to make it an attractive option. And, fingers crossed, maybe they’ll be able to get tour guide summer jobs at a museum when they are teens, which would be great.

And maybe a couple of years from now, the Captain and the Gal will have figured it all out and all this fretting and worrying and hand wringing will have been for nothing.

But I can say this: I wish EFI did not exist. I wish middle French Immersion (which starts in grade 4) was the only option. It would give kids time to learn to love school. It would give them time to ease into full-days at school with joy and fun and creativity. It would allow those kids who truly love languages, or those who are really bored with school as-is, to choose French as an informed decision. It would encourage more people to stay in English, creating a better balance in the school and a less marginalized English stream. And it would allow all kids who need extra help to have access to it in the early years when it is most needed.

For now, though, EFI still exists, and peer pressure means we chose it once again for the Little Miss. We’re immersed now, I guess.