Slug it out

Slug it out.

Definition of slug it out

informal

1.  :  to fight or compete over something until one side wins 

I can tell that life is slowing down because I have more moments of musing over obscure thoughts during the day.

I love it.

During the busy-ness of the school year, I embrace all of the craziness that is board meetings, music practices, hockey, skating, soccer, clubs, etc. But right now, on my deck, I’m soaking in the calm.

…It helps that child 1 is at school, child 2 is with cousins and grandma/grandpa at the lake, and child 3 is shadowing papa around the yard, in and out of miscellaneous farm equipment.

Ahhhhh…..

I just finished tidying my yard and watering my garden. My garden is a place I often find myself pondering life and funny little analogies/object lessons that could be used to teach some greater life concept.

It was windy... ;) AND, yes, we do have a section for tractors in my garden.

I have a garden hose that I use to water my garden, but unlike you city-folk the water that I use comes from a dugout on our yard. I often think that I can smell the lake and one major reminder that I’m not using filtered city water is when my water pressure goes from strong and steady to a trickle in a split second. Pump issues, some of you are thinking… but you’re wrong. (Well, it’s not usually pump issues ;)

Slugs

My resident slug-hunter.

Frequently, when I’m watering a plant, I’ll feel a mild kick back on my hose. Kinda like what you feel on some motorized vehicle/toy, when the engine backfires. (Or not at all like that ;) but work with me…) There’s a momentary stoppage of water and then it explodes out of the end of the hose, sending with it some slimy little slug to fertilize my plants. Sometimes, the water slows to a slow trickle and I nervously fiddle with the end of the hose, very aware that at any moment the water could force that trespassing sucker out into space… hopefully it’s not the space that my face occupies as I examine the hose!!

ANYWAY… the phrase “slug it out” whirled around in my mind as I made my way through my garden and today, I actually have a little time to flesh the thought out on paper (computer screen).

Slug. It. Out.

Isn’t that what our whole life is?

We put effort into making our lives, the lives of our loved ones and those in our community and then the world, better. Nearly all of us have that same goal, so then what are we fighting against? What is our opposition? How do you “win?”

Deep thoughts this morning in the Schultz garden…

I feel like there are so many philosophical/theological directions one could take this thought and now, sitting here on my garden swing, I’m slightly overwhelmed by it all.

I’m going to choose the cheesy route and run with my slug/garden analogy. I’ll let you ponder your own deeper thoughts rather than tainting them with my own lengthy personal interpretations. ;)

The garden is our lives, my friends. We need to water/nurture it to help it grow. Sometimes, you’ll get a slug that plugs up your hose, prohibiting the life-giving water from helping your garden to thrive. It may be a small slug that passes through the hose quickly, allowing the water to resume without much interruption. It may be a large slug that causes the water to stop completely and it may need special intervention to extract it and enable the water to flow again. When a slug does pass through the hose and onto the soil, it may even be that it composts to enrich the soil and actually help your garden to thrive. Slug. It. Out.

Life is too short to allow slugs to remain in your hose too long. ;)

As someone who believes that there is a God who made us, loves us and desires relationship with us, I can’t help but think that along with striving to make this world a better place, my purpose is also to bring hope to others. HE is the best slug-extractor there is.

Slug it out, my friends.

Ecclesiastes 3

An Uber Way to Go (ish)

For half a year, we (my hubby & I) have been looking forward to this April vacay in Toronto and now that we’re here, we’re having a pretty great time. ;) One of the perks: time to do a little writing!!! Such a luxury…

This is us in one of the Casa Loma Towers. You can faintly see the CN tower in the top left... (but not really.. it IS there!)

We booked a condo to share with my sister (Carrie) and Brother-in-law (Braden), which was an easy choice as we quite enjoy spending time/vacationing with them. We booked our condo in downtown Toronto (Union Station area) to be near Rogers’ Centre to take in the Jay’s home opener and a couple other games as well as see the sights.

Now, that I’ve laid down the context, let me get to what I’ve felt inspired to write about: This Sask girl’s perspective on getting around the big city J

On Saturday, I flew in to meet Mitch who was already in Toronto for the National Holstein Convention. I was in YYZ by 10:15am and I knew Mitch would be in meetings until mid afternoon, so I decided to brave some public transportation and find my way to his hotel (which was north of Toronto—Markham area). It had cost nearly $70 for Mitch to ride a cab from the airport to his hotel and it became my mission to cut that cost in half at least ;)

When planning the trip, I had looked up info on Toronto’s transit system and printed off a subway map to familiarize myself with the general routes. I thought I had a fairly good understanding, but of course once you’re actually in a place, things look a little different.

In the Toronto Pearson Airport, there are several ways you can travel into the city. My plan had been to take what is referred to as “the Rocket” (a bus) to Kipling Station, which is the closest (first) station on the subway line. Instead, though, I climbed right onto a train (thinking perhaps they had updated the subway line to go right into the airport). It was a really nice train though, which should have tipped me off that it wasn’t city transit. ;)

I had gotten onto what is called the UP express train(Union-Pearson); train that travels between Union Station and YYZ. There are only two stops between Pearson & Union on this particular train, and seeing as I didn’t want to go all the way to Union, I thought I should probably get off sooner. I got off at “Bloor,” thinking that it was the Bloor Subway station, but it was not. It was a UP train stop on Bloor Street. Once I was off the train, things felt "off". The station was almost completely abandoned. Any information area was closed and I couldn’t even find anyone to ask directions from!!!

Because I was by myself, I wasn’t too bothered by the fact that I actually had no idea where I was and was alone in Toronto—Canada’s biggest city. In thinking things through, I often lay it out for myself. What’s the worst-case scenario? Worst case—I really am lost, so I call a cab to take me to Mitch’s hotel… potentially paying more than he did because I’m now in the city. Later on, when I was relaying my transit adventures to Mitch, he said, “No, worst-case scenario is that you get mugged and then you have no money, no phone and you’re alone/lost in the city.” –I married such an optimist… ;)

Anyway, the station really was empty, which was confusing to me because I still thought I was on the city line. There were information desks that were closed, and the maps on the wall didn’t make sense to me because I didn’t realize I was on a completely different line.

After wandering around the empty station for a while, I ventured out onto the street with my suitcase in tow, chose a direction and just walked. Of course there was nothing familiar, but fortunately about 2 blocks away, I stumbled into an actual city transit station. This was much more occupied than the other line; how you would expect to see a city metro station.

I bought my transit token, made my way through the gate and went down the stairs to find the platform that I believed would take me to where I wanted to go. Somehow, though, I was still operating under the assumption that I was in the Bloor metro station (but I was not)… the large signs stating Dundas West all over the place didn’t change my mind somehow. It’s amazing how difficult it can be to change your thinking once you’re convinced of something!

For a few stops down the line, I was frustrated/confused that the names of the stations weren’t lining up with what I thought they should be. Thankfully, I had my aha moment where it all made sense, a stop or two before I came upon the actual Bloor-Yonge Subway station and needed to switch trains.

I quite easily made the switch and now that the station names were matching up with the idea I had in my mind, travelling seemed easier and easier. That’s the beauty of a Subway. Trains can only go two directions—forward or back.

I had to switch subway lines one more time (which I had been anticipating ;) before I got to the end of the line that was closest to where Mitch’s hotel was. The line ended at the Fairview Mall. I had seen this online and my plan was to catch a cab from the mall entrance to travel the much shorter distance to the hotel.

I pulled my suitcase through the mall ;) and found what I thought might be a main entrance. I walked outside and looked around for a cab. I didn’t have to look long when a man in a black mini van called out his window, “Cab?” I nodded and headed over.  I thought it strange that there weren’t the markings of cab on his vehicle, but that didn’t cause me much pause (my naïve Saskatchewan roots). He put my suitcase in the back, helped me in the side door, and we were off.

I was trying to explain to him where I needed to go and I thought it funny how relaxed he was. He didn’t seem concerned about my destination. He was fiddling with his phone in a slightly confused fashion as he drove out of the mall parking lot.

…I realize that it may seem like I’m setting the stage for an ominous story of how I was abducted by a man in a black van…

But that’s not the case. ;) After fiddling with his phone a few minutes, the man pipes up, “You’re not Nancy???” I shook my head and said, “No…”

“Aw, Sh#*” said the driver.

I had stolen Nancy’s Uber ride.

I had actually heard of this concept of Uber rides because it’s a norm in large cities and we have friends in Texas who’ve used it. It wasn’t a mode of transportation that I’d thought of (hadn’t even crossed my mind) using for this trip, however. But there I was, now stopped on the side of a freeway onramp, in a black van with an Uber driver who had been expecting to drive Nancy to some mysterious destination.

Uber is run through the Uber app and there is no exchange of actual money between driver and passengers. Anyone with a vehicle can sign up to be an Uber driver (not sure how that is regulated..??) The app locates the 8 drivers that are nearest to you (you choose your ride), sends them your travel route and uses your credit card to pay the driver.

I felt bad that I had hijacked this man’s vehicle, albeit it was a completely innocent mistake. I’m certain he uttered the word “cab” out his window. It could be that he had said “cab” because as I’ve discovered during this trip, cab drivers hate Uber. I’m sure they lose business to Uber because an Uber ride is less than half the cost of a cab.

Anyway, Nancy had cancelled her Uber ride and we were sitting on the side of a one-way on-ramp. A tow truck actually stopped to see if we needed assistance. So, this Uber man was stuck with this ignorant farm girl. You bet I played the “Sorry, I’m from small town Saskatchewan” card as a means to gain sympathy. ;)

I was frantically trying to download the Uber app, which I did and then the driver helped me as I tried to hire his particular van to shuttle me to the hotel. For some reason the app wouldn’t find the vehicle that I was already sitting in. At this point, I think the driver just wanted to get driving. He doesn’t make any money by idling on the side of the road. We had seen the Uber price for the ride from the app, so we agreed that I would just pay him cash for this ride.

Within 20 minutes, we were pulling up at the Sheraton Parkway Toronto North Hotel. I knew we were at the right place because there were John Deere Tractors on display in the parking lot and Holstein Cow statues by the doors. ;) (Mitch had been attending the National Holstein Convention, remember?)

So my travel adventure, albeit lengthy and laden with missteps, was a success.

I don’t remember looking at the time when I pulled away from the Pearson airport in the UP train, but my flight had landed at 10:15am. I’m sure it must have taken me at least a half hour to get my suitcase, use the restroom and find the train. I arrived at the hotel at 1pm, so my entire venture from airport to hotel wasn’t much more than 2 hours in length. Mitch said his cab ride had taken nearly an hour and a half  (he got stuck travelling during the 4-5pm rush hour slot), so I don’t consider my time overly outrageous!

I paid $12 to ride the UP train. Had I come across the “Rocket bus” I could have eliminated that cost entirely and then I wouldn’t have walked around an empty station or felt so confused because it would have taken me directly to the end of the TTC subway line, which had been my intention. It was a nice train, though.

I paid $3 to ride the city subway lines.

The cost of my stolen Uber ride was $15, but I added another $10 for the trouble and time I had cost the poor guy. I didn’t want to damage our naïve Saskatchewan reputation by making us look stingy, too. ;) The guy was appreciative.

SO, there you have it. I found my way to Mitch’s hotel from the airport for $40. It wasn’t as much savings as I’d hoped for, but I feel as though I gained a wealth of transit knowledge in the process. We’ll consider it my tuition for Toronto transit schooling ;) and it proved useful!!!

The next day, Mitch and I checked out of the hotel and were headed back into the heart of Toronto. Because of my experience and because I already had the app, we took an Uber ride into the city. The cab drivers who were parked out front of the hotel didn’t much like it, but we rode back to the Fairview Mall for $14.72, and this time we didn’t exchange any cash.

I felt like a seasoned transit rider as I could expertly direct my husband where to go. ;) There were no missteps on this trip. We got on the subway and rode all the way down to Union Station (for $3 each). From there, we could easily walk the 4-5 blocks to the condo we are staying in. Success!! 

We’ve used Uber rides to take us to other tourist spots through this week, but we’ve also done a lot of walking and we’ve even dabbled in the city rental bike system, which I think is fabulous!!!

Toronto's famous, Graffiti Alley

This Sask farm girl feels quite empowered in making her way around the big city. If we had kids with us, I’m sure I wouldn’t feel quite so confident. ;)

I’ll close this post with a situation to ponder…

When riding your bike through the city streets, you ride on the road in the same direction as traffic, weaving around parked cars and using bike lanes when there is one, but what do you do when you come up behind THIS slow mover:

Pushing The Reset Button

So, yesterday (Friday) we had a morning in our home where my dear son Jett who's in grade one and I were butting heads as he was supposed to be getting ready for school. Does anyone else ever have those mornings???

Anyway, Jett's attitude towards me lacked love/respect and was not good. I called him on it by explaining why his attitude was so wrong and needing to be changed. He didn't seem sold on my attitude-change sales pitch, so I laid on a little emotion; trying to drive home the point that words and attitude have impact on those around you.

-- I really struggle with knowing how to effectively demonstrate to my kids how their words/actions impact others. Sometimes, I find myself falling into an acting role, exaggerating my own hurt feelings or disappointment so that my kids are sure to pick up on the fallout. There's a fine line between exaggerating emotions as a teaching tool and laying a guilt trip as a means to manipulate... I believe the difference lies within the motive. My goal is to teach & train my children to think about the impact their words/actions may have before speaking. I hope that's what they're learning..

I digress ;)

My efforts (warranted or not) were effective and Jett did come to the place where he felt sorry for how he was acting & he did apologize to me. It did feel though, that we had more to talk about and a good snuggle could have served as a healing salve to the moment, but just then the school bus arrived and our quick hug good bye did not nearly seem to be enough. I really felt like I needed more time to just hug my boy and affirm him that he is immeasurably loved.

The bus pulled away and my mama heart ached. My boy was starting the day with somewhat of a cloud over his head and I didn't like it. I think that some of my unsettled feelings came from knowing that I was leaving on a trip the next morning (a week away with my hubby).

When I was sure that the kids were all safely delivered to school, I messaged our bus driver. I explained that Jett had a rough start to the day and just asked how his bus ride had been. She responded and said that he had been unusually quiet (he's usually quite bubbly and talkative) and then he actually fell asleep. (It dawned on me that he had gotten to bed later than usual the night before and this likely contributed to the attitude issues of the day..) A boy down the route thought it would be funny to wake Jett up and chose to do so by slapping him across the face... (Not thinking through the impact of ones' actions seems to be an epidemic among young boys).

I think you can imagine how Jett's wake up call was received. He spiralled. He cried and cried.

That was enough. I couldn't handle thinking of Jett going through the day trying to pick up the pieces of how it had started. I abandoned my plan to spend the morning cleaning/packing and instead, I got Lena and Zav dressed and we hopped into our vehicle to go get Jett.

As I drove, I found myself blinking back tears. "Get it together, Wendy!" I thought to myself. But I was doomed. When I entered the front doors of the school and was greeted by our schools' sweet VP, I spilled. "I think I'm going to pull Jett out for the day.." I was able to say before bursting into tears. I was completely embarrassed at my own lack of composure as she pulled me into her office. She was very understanding, and actually, she had been about to give me a call. She had just spent time talking to Jett and his buddy who slapped him and she agreed, Jett was very much not his usual self.

Our VP kindly offered to go and get Jett from his classroom, for which I was relieved. I did not need to parade my blubbery mess down the hall for more children/teachers to see. Instead, I intently studied the the staff photos on the wall while I tried to regain control. Why am I such a sap???

Jett came and gave me a hug. He was very glad (and surprised) that I had come for him. He held my hand as we walked and talked out to the car. He told me about how his morning hadn't gone well on the bus, and I told him that we were going to restart the day. I hadn't felt good about our time at home and so this was us re-making the day.

It was a beautiful day. We got some food/smoothies (coffee for me, of course) from Tim Horton's and took it down by the Bessborough to picnic along the river. The kids thought it was great and the fresh air was good for all of us. The mood was lifted almost immediately as we enjoyed each other's company.

We visited, joked and laughed together and then decided to hit up the park by the farmer's market. It was a wonderful morning.

Jett asked me if he could return to school at lunch time because there was a hot lunch and we'd ordered him pizza/chips. Not to mention, Friday afternoons (gym & games) at school are his favourite. He said, "Mom, will it hurt your feelings if I go back to school?" I smiled and hugged him. "Of course not, J. You are welcome to go back to school." He thanked me several times throughout our morning for coming and taking him away for the morning and I assured him that it had been needed for both of us. We both felt 1,000,000% better. ;) (Any Survivor fans reading that appreciate impossible percentages??)

We made it back to school for his hot lunch, and I left him there with a hug and a smile. At the end of the day, his teacher messaged me that he had come back as his usual happy self and had a great afternoon.

I know that I won't be able to re-set all of the bad mornings that my children will experience in their lifetimes, but it felt great to re-make this one.

As I drove home, I had a moment of clarity where I thought about how blessed we are. If bad-attitude mornings are the problems we have to deal with, we are abundantly fortunate. We don't have to worry about having enough food to eat, a warm place to sleep, or a safe place to live. We have so much more than that. And more than having those physical needs met, my children are so very loved. Not only do they have the loving attention of their father and I, they have close relationships with both sets of their grandparents (Who do you think cares for them while Mitch & I get away? ;) as well as cousins, aunts, uncles and many great friends.

A rough morning wouldn't have ruined my son, but I'm thankful that today it was on my radar and within my ability to have a do-over.

From the mouths of babes...

From the mouths of babes…

There is nothing like having a child to keep you humble. Children will let you know exactly what they think of you at any given time. If you thought you had any sort of wisdom in the area of child rearing (we’re going to say pre-kids) those little stinkers (albeit cute stinkers) will have you second guess everything you ever thought you knew… several times a day.

I love my children. But some of the things that come out of their mouths…

I often say, I need to write more of these things down and then I don’t! So this is me writing a few things down.

I’ll start with my youngest, Zavier Shane. He is very nearly three years old, but he’s definitely catapulted into what we affectionately (or begrudgingly) call the “three-nager” stage. At any given moment he can flip the switch for his insta-attitude and he reserves the right to change his mind, opinion or stance on anything… just to make life difficult. His newest catch phrase that he mumbles if he’s particularly upset with you is, “I’m gonna punch your face!” Isn’t that lovely? What a sweetie! Thankfully, I’ve never seen him actually punch anyone’s face and yes, of course I’ve talked to him about talking like that.

Zavi in the midst of a yogurt therapy beautifying session.

Now, I know that it’s a popular opinion to teach your kids the proper names of their own body parts. I understand that it’s for safety, etc. I’m not here to dispute or affirm that, but let me tell you, there can be consequences with educating a toddler!

We were in town in the afternoon the other day, so I thought it would be nice if my two youngest and I went to pick Jett up from school. We arrived a few minutes early, so I helped Lena & Zav out of our vehicle and we walked to the school to wait by the boot room doors. When the bell rang and kids began pouring out of the school doors, someone informed me that Jett was waiting for us at his classroom. (Pardon me, your highness, my son… let me come and escort you…) SO, I brought my littles into the boot room and gave them strict instructions to stay put while I walked just around the corner to J’s classroom (literally no more than 20 steps). Call me lazy, but I didn’t want to take everyone’s boots off just to walk the 20 steps and then have to get everyone re-booted. Jett was there and ready to go, so I really don’t think I had left Lena and Zav alone for even 1 full minute, but of course my little threenager couldn’t be expected to wait that long. He was almost in 3^rd gear when I cut him off and scooped him and his boots up before he could track anything down the hall. It was a quick reaction, one fluid motion as I bent down, and lifted him by swinging my arm between his legs so that his legs were straddling my arm. It’s an awkward description, I realize, but I’ve picked him up that way many times; often when we’re playing or giving ‘airplane rides.’ Anyway, I guess he found it uncomfortable because he yelled (not with an inside voice) “OW, Don’t touch my penis!!” He then repeated the same thing at least 5 times, just in case someone in the area hadn’t heard him.

Seriously, son, thank you. 

A few of my favourite things about Zavi at this stage in his life:
-He loves his stuffies. His favourites are Puppy, Giraffy, Unicorn and Cowie-Wowie. A stuffed puppy, a stuffed lion (yes, a lion named giraffy), A black stallion (there's no unicorn horn, but it doesn't seem to matter) and of course, a cow. The cow he has on time-share with his sister. ;)
-Zavi loves to catch me when I'm crouched near the floor. He gets this irresistible twinkle in his eye and grins at me. He then says, "Give me a hug, lady!" (I love it.. The first time he said it, I melted-- was putty in his hands. He knows it. He uses it.) and proceeds to run at me full speed, trying to tackle me with a monster hug.
-And his sleep sweat. A weird thing to love, I know. Each night I put my princess on the potty (she's fully asleep.. it's rather hilarious, but necessary!) and after I return her to her bed, I lean over my baby who's sleeping on the bottom bunk, feel my way through the stuffies until I find his sweaty little face, and then I inhale a big sniff. I love it. He has his own sleepy sweaty smell and I can't get enough of it.

Kalena Jane, my sweet princess, loves to tell stories. Whether they're true and based on reality is not important. She will decide and let you know if it's true or not. Some of the tales she tells...
She also can get highly emotional in an instant. (I fear her adolescent years...) But the other day, she slipped. She admitted to me that she is capable of making herself cry. She can even produce actual tears, which makes this whole parenting thing even more of a challenge!

You gotta love the influence of a big sister...

Miss Lena also LOVES to sing and dance (although her ability to sing on key... it's not developed yet...). We took the kids to the movie Trolls a week or so ago (it was cute) and at the end  when the credits were rolling, Kalena jumped up out of her seat and ran to the front of the theatre to dance to Justin Timberlake. She considered it her stage and she poured herself into a moving performance of her own interpretive dance. Of course her little brother joined her. (cramped her style)

"She came in like a wrecking ball..."

Of my three nose-pickers, Kalena is the least shy. She will approach pretty much any adult she deems interesting (we have work to do in the whole Stranger Danger department). I caught her starting a conversation with a strange man in an airport... a few times. Her version of social boldness is paired with a form of bluntness that leads to situations that are highly embarrassing. She has no qualms about loudly informing anyone who will listen to her of the things she observes. You know, things like commenting on the appearance of people around her... things like weight, interesting hair styles or tattoos...  Honestly, I am trying to teach Kalena how to be socially sensitive, to not spout out every thought that runs through her brain... to think about how the things that she says might make someone else feel... It's a work in progress.

This pic is cute and un-assuming, but the back story is that Kalena is wearing no shoes... On October 31st, in Saskatchewan, her barefoot state went un-noticed and she trick or treated a whole block without shoes. #parentingfail

We've been trying to catch up on some appointments over the last while, and all three of my kiddos did great at their recent visit to the optometrist. I first got glasses when I was 7 (my eyesight is horrible) so I'm always praying that my children will get Mitch's perfect vision. Anyway, our optometrist is brilliant. He used Paw Patrol for the kids to watch while he checked out their eyes and they all behaved marvellously. He took them to the prize drawer afterwards as a reward and my princess boldly inquired, "Do you have any diamonds???"

Some of my favourite things about Kalena right now:
- She is SO affectionate. I get multiple "I love you's" and hugs/kisses throughout the day.
- Her hips. She's had this hip wiggle for a long time now, and it works its way into most of her dance moves. I can't call it a booty shake because this girl's got no booty!
-Her toothless grin. Having two front teeth pulled was rather traumatic for both Kalena and I, but she has such an adorable smile now.
-She has the hair I always wanted. Seriously. It took well over two years for Kalena to have any hair to speak of, but now that it's in, it's gorgeous. She can sleep on it wet, take it out of a ponytail, whatever, and all we have to do is run a brush through it and it's smooth, soft and full.
- She still pronounces several of her words with a toddler-type accent. I think it's on words that have combined vowel sounds. "Door" is one of words where we notice it the most. "The deuuu..." Kalena was talking to grandma on the phone the other day and was trying to tell her about the face-paint design she'd had drawn on her face. She was trying to say that she had a heart drawn on her forehead. I chuckled as she repeated at least a half dozen times, "No Grandma, a hawwwt!"

Kalena and her "hawwwt" design. ;)

And then there's my Jett.

Grade 1 :)

As my first born, he's been my guinea pig as I try to figure this whole parenting thing out. I know that I'm much more laid back with Zavi than I ever was with J, poor guy. I've written more about Jett than the others as I try to figure out the trick to this child-rearing process. Seriously, though, I am so proud of how my boy is learning, maturing, and growing. (Yes he IS one of the biggest 6-yr olds you'll ever see-- He thinks he's more like 10...)

I was flipping back and I came across this post I wrote about a year and a half ago. I think I was apprehensive as J was nearing the point of starting kindergarten. We're now nearly half way through grade 1, and I am thrilled with how Jett is thriving in school. He LOVES school. His favourite part about going to school would surely be that he gets to see/play with his friends, but he enjoys the school work, too!

Jett is still the energetic, mischievous boy in a large-for-his-age athletic body that I wrote about in that post a year and a half ago, but he's learning more self-control, for which I am grateful and ever-so proud. We're nearly to Christmas, and Jett's only had a couple of minor incidents at school. Here's the thing, though, when he gets off the bus at home, it's the first thing he'll tell me! I love his openness; how he comes clean with whatever may be weighing on his chest. I pray that we can keep/maintain an open and honest relationship as he grows through the years!

It was sometime in the first month of grade 1, I met Jett as he got off the bus at the end of the school day. "Hey mom, did Mrs. Tew (his teacher) send you a message?"he asked me right away. "Uhhh, no. Why?" I responded. "Well, I kinda cut my shirt today..." said sheepishly as he unzipped his jacket to reveal his batman shirt with a massive shark-bite in the front. We had a long talk about choices, the value of things and how we need to take care of our things. I think what happened was that he was exploring his school supplies while eating lunch (having school supplies accessible is new in grade 1). He took his scissors and made a small snip in the bottom of his shirt. He is a fidgeter, and as the day progressed, he pulled at the tear until it became so big that it revealed his entire tummy! His teacher had written a note in his day planner apologizing for not being on top of it, but I certainly do not blame her. ;)

Now, here is a conversation we had the other day when Jett got off the bus:

“Hey Jett, How was your day?”

“Good… Well, the first two recesses were good. The third one, I struggled.”

(I get a kick out of how he said he struggled. You can tell what kind of terminology we use!)
“Uh-oh. What happened?”

“On our way back into the school, I kicked someone.”

“Jett, why did you do that?”

“I was trying to be funny, we were goofing around.”

“Where did you kick him?”

[He points to the crotch area]

“Oh, buddy. That would hurt.”

“I didn’t know it would hurt him. I thought it would be funny. I said, sorry.”

“That wasn’t a good choice to make, J.”

“I know. The teachers talked to me and took care of it.”

We left it at that. He knew he was wrong, and he admitted/owned his poor choice and felt remorse over it. Lesson-learned.

***Sidenote-- I have a vivid memory from when I was in elementary school. There was only 1 year when myself and my 3 siblings were all in the same school. I was in grade 7, my brothers grades 5 and 1, and my sister was in kindergarten (Massey Elementary in Regina). One of my friends taught my little sister to go up to boys and kick them square in the crotch, which she did several times. She's a quick learner. ;) I may not have been directly responsible, but I didn't stop it! The crazy thing is, I don't remember any consequences resulting from this!!

"Mom, check out my muscles!"
(Note: Zavi's not wearing shoes.... ever.)

Some of my favourite things about Jett right now:

- His growing love for reading. His reading ability has been improving rapidly and the books that he brings home to read now have a decent plot line, which he enjoys.
- His understanding of spiritual things. He blows my mind with the questions he asks about God and heaven. (Our best conversations happen in the car or at bedtime)
- He is SUCH a keener. I will para-phrase what J's teacher wrote on his report card this year. She very nicely worded that he could chill out. ;) He is highly competitive and needs to be the first done his work, the first to line up at the door, etc. I don't want to completely snuff his keen-ness, but maybe just tame it down a bit.

I love being a mom and being able to watch my three little firecrackers grow up. I had a moment not long ago where the thought occurred to me that I don't have much longer where I'll be referred to as "Mommy." How sad! We joke about the millions of times our kids call for mommy... every day, and yet time passes far too quickly.

I often pray that God will give me wisdom and patience to parent my children in the manner that they need. I am thankful.

Reclaiming Mornings

I used to be a morning person. I loved to start the day with exercise and my Bible and then the rest of the day seemed to be more productive, more purposeful.... better.

Then, I had kids. Sleepless nights turned into tired weeks, upon months, and vaporized years. I'll refer to these past 6 1/2 yrs as, "The Fog." They haven't been bad years! I've loved my babies who grew into toddlers and who are becoming incredible young people. I've loved them at all hours of the day and the night, and that changed how I lived life in a dramatic fashion.

My love for mornings turned into dread a I clung to my bedsheets for dear life as I heard the pitter patter of little feet coming to pry me from my warm haven. Or worse, the loud, "Moooooooommmm!!!!!!" that is more severe than any alarm clock as you fear one child may rouse the rest of the creatures and induce a cyclone throughout the house.

Now, my littlest babe is nearly three and my nights aren't nearly as interrupted as they once were; although I do have a loud sleep talker/caller who I have to attend to often...

I have found myself caught in this cycle of staying up way too late (because time sans children is precious) and then sleeping as long as I can until the kids wake me up and I stumble my way to the coffee maker... at about 7 in the morning (they're very consistent). My late nights consist of reality TV and/or Netflix while I'm mildly productive in reassembling a messy kitchen/living room or folding laundry. There is NO exercise or Bible reading at this time of day (night) to rejuvenate my spirit because, let's face it, my brain is tired and not at capacity to get there.

I think it was about a month ago that I was pondering my current state and I remembered, "Hey, didn't I used to be a morning person?"

I want that back.
I'm taking it back.

Of course my pondering was in the midst of summer with all of it's lack of routine and I decided to make this my mission once we were into the school year. ("I'll start... tomorrow...")Well, school started a week and a half ago and I took my two pre-schoolers for one last excursion to the lake with their cousins last week, so now we're there; back to routine.

Today, Monday September 12th, 2016, I set my alarm for 6am to begin my quest to reclaim my mornings. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've set an alarm in the past few years. (Perks of being a stay-at-home mom... and having children who are up early...) So, as I fumbled with my alarm clock for far too long trying to remember how the stupid thing shut off and then realized that it was my phone that was making the rude noises that seemed to get louder as it went on and on and on, it was a shock to the system.

When I finally got the alarm off, I was awake. Time to DO this.

I put my runners on, found my old Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred DVD and set it up on the TV in the basement. I hit the remote against the couch a few times because the stupid thing wouldn't work, then changed the batteries in the remote (worked like a charm-- apparently batteries die even when they're not being used), and got set to rock a workout amidst a sea of popcorn kernels covering the entire carpet in the area. Do my kids even get any in their mouths???? Seriously!

I got into my workout and quickly remembered how much I hate Jillian Michaels. I mean, I chase kids all day, lift bags/boxes of groceries regularly and log millions of miles circling around my kitchen sink. How can I be so out of shape???

Jett got up for his routine morning pee just before 6:30 and usually he goes back to his bed until 7, but because he saw the basement light on, he came down to join me. (not quite the plan I had in mind for my reclaimed morning, it's supposed to be kid-free, but such is the mom life). Truth be told, I was glaring at Jillian, cursing my aching body and was glad for an excuse to hit pause for a few minutes while I greeted my eldest son. My sweet boy even went and got me a cold glass of water. He then stayed and watched me trudge through the rest of my workout, cheering me on with comments like, "Mom, is that hard? It looks like it hurts! Are you tired?..." But I made it through day one of getting back on the wagon. Take that.

I shared with Jett that this 6-7am hour was only for exercise and Bible reading: ie NO electronics. He understood that if he wanted to take part with me, those were the terms. :) He did come curl up on the recliner with me and we read a passage from the Bible, talked about it and prayed together. Now, my intention is to have some private time to read my bible/pray, but if I share it with my kids sometimes, that's a-okay with me (as long as it's only one at a time... all three kids together would definitely kill the mood...). It was actually really special and refreshing to spend that time together. I have a very intelligent and insightful 6 year old. I am always amazed at the understanding he has of big/important concepts!

7am came and I did brew my first cup of coffee for the day while my other two littles trickled out of their beds. One really did trickle... out of a completely soaked bed. SO, the washer/dryer are doing their thing already. I got my boy fed/dressed and onto the bus by 7:50 and the day is well under way.

I'm sitting here writing this blog post, which I'm calling productive because I love writing and I consider it brain exercise. AND I haven't posted in a bajillion years! (Or 5 months) I feel good that I made a plan and followed through with Day 1. The Fog is lifting. I know that I have many mornings of having to pry myself out of bed against my will to get this thing going, but I WILL reclaim mornings and one day (hopefully not too long from now) it will get easier and I will look forward to waking up early again.

Now, on to a productive day.