Just When You Think Everything Is Going Wrong...

...life offers you a little treat.

I feel I must write about this because I have been suffering from a splitting headache since last night, and if I don't get more excited about this than I already am, I am gonna slump into a depression about my headache and stay home today. So what is "this?" THIS, my friends, is BLUE RODEO DAY in Ottawa! To me, THIS is a BIG DEAL! :D

Blue Rodeo has been my favorite band since I discovered their debut album waaaaaay back in elementary school. I don't know how many people can say that they have had the same favorite band since elementary school, but I am one of those people. Looking back now, I wonder what it is that got me hooked, apart from my sister's comment that if Jim would only smile he would be really cute. lmao I was such a different person back then, very young, and now that I can understand the band's lyrics as an adult, I wonder what I understood of them when I was such a baby. That was a long time ago! Here's what happened: My sister and I were watching Video Hits after school, as we usually did, and Blue Rodeo's Try video was being played. About a microsecond after my sister's comment, Jim Cuddy burst into a huge grin on our tv screen and that pretty much sealed the deal. It was a moment of magic. We both became instant fans and Blue Rodeo has been my favorite band ever since. Oddly enough, though, I grew into a Keelorite. Go figure... (For those of you who don't know, the fans who prefer Jim Cuddy's songs are Cuddyans and the fans who prefer Greg Keelor's songs are Keelorites.) Actually, I am a Blue Rodeo fan first and foremost, but I do tend to lean towards Greg's songs when I think of my favorites. Gerg's songs seem deeper to me. On the other hand, Jim is great at painting pictures with his narrative. I love his songs too.

Anyway, today, in recognition of Blue Rodeo being inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame this weekend at the Juno Awards, Ottawa's mayor Jim Watson has declared March 30th Blue Rodeo Day in Ottawa. That means that today at 12:30, the mayor will present the band with a "unique gift." Admission is free but seating is limited so I am leaving home very soon to go get in line. I am very thankful for this chance to see the boys, since I haven't really been able to afford their concerts recently.

I would love to go on about Blue Rodeo but really my head is about to split in two. So I am off, heading downtown. Hopefully the fresh air will clear my head.

But if you are curious about them, I definitely encourage you to google Blue Rodeo. Or, you can check out some of the videos I have put up on YouTube. Black Ribbon is a great one. So is Cynthia. :o) Enjoy!

*UPDATE*
I am home again and have posted a review of the event on bluerodeo.com, if anyone is interested. :o)
I'm glad I went.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Today I got a lovely letter from the Province of Québec stating that since I was now employed, I would no longer be receiving any more support payments as of April 1st. This, after I made sure to be up-front with them about having landed a contract to create some course content until March 31st. So, they cancel their help for me as of the the date I would need it again? Yeah, that makes total sense.

While I AM trying to keep things in perspective, and remind myself that the $4,000 I just earned is much more than their measly $580, I am still ticked off and stressed out. Now that my contract is ending - and they ought to know that it is ending since I sent them a copy! - they are cutting me off. Now, when I have been working hard for a month and am really exhausted, they decide that I can't rest because I now have to start running around filling out forms and submitting bank statements and credit card statements to satisfy them that my debt of 30,000 has NOT disappeared, but has grown to 40,000 dollars, so no, I cannot live off the four thousand I just earned indefinitely. I say indefinitely because based on my past experience, it takes weeks for them to make up their mind about wether or not they will help anyone. The first time I was approved, it took a really long time, and I am convinced to this day that they were just waiting for me to use up every last cent of my line of credit before they would admit that I can't make ends meet. A woman alone with three children. No, let's not help her until we absolutely HAVE to. :/ Is this why Québec is supposed to be a haven for families? I ask you.

It makes one wonder, should I have turned down this contract, which I applied for months ago, just to keep my checks coming? It's a no-brainer I think. $4,000 > $580. Even though I have health problems and am too sick to work, I didn't feel like I had a choice. I am financially trapped and I couldn't turn it down. I worked at it even though it left me even more exhausted than ever. I was hoping to use the money towards my credit card debt and I was counting on the support check to help buy gas and groceries. Now, I am stuck having to spend the money on necessities instead of lessening my debt. It's king of conducive to sitting on my ass the next time a contract comes my way. What is wrong with the world?

I could go on, but I think that is the sum of what I am ranting about now. And I'm too tired to add more just now. I am just too deflated.

No more excuses... Please!

This morning something kind of funny happened with my eight-year-old son, but it got me thinking about something I have often observed. So I am here today (tonight - it's past ten pm!) to let you all off the hook. If you want something, go for it! You don't have to answer to anyone. Let me explain:

When I woke First Son up this morning and asked him what he wanted for breakfast, he said he had to call his Auntie Miki first. I knew where this was going, but I played along...

"Why would you need to call her?"

"Well I just have to talk to her."

"About what?"

"About going over to their house."

"Their house? We have work and school today!"

"But I have to send her a text to answer her."

"Why? did she send us a text?"

"Ummm... maybe it was just something I dreamt."

If any of you are wondering what this was all about, I got a new phone yesterday when I renewed my cell phone contract. It's an android that replaces my four-year-OLD flip phone. The moment he saw it, First Son asked if he could play games on it. I said no, I had no intention of putting any games on it. I wanted to save the batteries for phone calls. Later, just before going to bed, he came up to me and said that he had just remembered that he had to do a really long division for school the next day. Something like... "Ummm... two hundred million thousand divided by eight million three hundred forty-seven thousand." lmao He wanted to use my calculator, that is to say, he wanted to get my hands on the new phone! :p

Well, I thought it was so adorable the way he squirmed. He couldn't just come out and say, "Can I see your phone, Maman?" I would have just handed it to him! But no, he had to beat around the bush.

During pretty much the whole rest of the day - during a two-hour online training I was taking, during laundry and a Doctor Who episode, while driving around doing errands and then spending the evening with the children - I kept remembering different times when people felt that they had to justify themselves. Like when I was visiting Hungary at the age of 15 (waaaay back when!) and we visited the home of a woman who had just gotten a microwave oven. My uncle commented on it and immediately she started what seemed like a well-rehearsed explanation of why she had needed to buy it: How it warmed the coffee so much quicker when she had to get up really early, how it softened old bread so that it was warm and pleasant to eat, and especially how hard it had been for her to scrub all her pots and pans when her children had warmed things up on the gas stove and burnt things to the bottom of her cookware. It was like she had to justify her purchase whereas for me having a microwave oven was the norm. No explanation needed.

Another example I recall is that of a friend of mine who had her first child a few years after I did. Now, granted, I am a minimalist, but there were some things I would have liked to have for our first baby that we just couldn't afford. When I visited this friend of mine and she showed me the nursery, I said, "Oooh! You have a Diaper Genie!" Although we never had one, I started seeing the benefits it could offer when our smelly diapers piled up in the trash. But my friend misunderstood me and immediately started justifying its being there. She went on about how she knew it was expensive and created waste and it cost a lot to buy the refill bags, but her husband had complained about the diaper smell and so she had to buy one. Really, she didn't have any explaining to do to me. I would have easily accepted it if her reply had been, "Yes, I have one and I absolutely love it!"

I think that people are so well-informed nowadays that they are very aware of all the poverty in the world. The media brings it right to our door, and living excessive lives seems definitely to be out. So people want to seem in by supporting good causes, donating to charity, and living as if they were ashamed of what they can afford. When we actually enter their homes and see the big screen TV and the home theater system in the living room, the stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, the treadmill in the basement, the SUV in the garage, the Diaper Genie in the nursery! ;o) and the sprinkler system running at maximum capacity in the yard, the jig is up and people feel they have to explain.

The way I see it, if people work hard for the money they earn (or if they are lucky enough to have been born into it), there is no shame in permitting themselves some luxuries (or basic necessities that the neighbors might not have yet, but that a teenager visiting from America wouldn't bat an eye at.) I believe that a healthy life is a balanced life. I would hope that those who can give do so, but there is no law that says you have to give it all away. By all means, help your fellow man, but you are allowed to spoil yourself too, once in a while. When I was working full-time (before I got sick), I allowed myself a few little luxuries, especially when I first left my husband. I bought an expensive shelf for my kids to keep their LEGO and construction toys on. I bought a big TV cabinet with doors to hide the TV behind and three drawers below for cassettes, DVDs and CDs. And especially, I splurged on a big Queen bed in case a thunderstorm sent my three kids under my blankets to hide. I didn't want to be kicked and elbowed all night. I didn't feel the need to justify the purchase. In fact, if the alcove I sleep in were a tiny bit bigger, I would have bought a King. The truth is, a King wouldn't fit. The truth IS, First son just wanted to see my phone. :o)

If you want something, be direct about it. Get it for yourself if you can. You're allowed. Giving to yourself if part of a healthy lifestyle. You are a human being and you deserve it.

A Nice Pick-Me-Up

Although today is Tuesday, it is a Tuesday Monday: the first day of school this week because of yesterday's planning day. I was pleasantly surprised this morning when Second Son, my six-year-old, came to the kitchen at 6:30 am, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and chatted with me while I prepared the kids' lunches. It is a rare treat when one of the children wakes up by themselves on a school day. Weekends, of course, are another matter!

While I made the three lunches, Second Son washed last night's dishes and then practiced a magic trick. (Pushing a pencil through a sheet of glass - quite impressive!) His presence in the kitchen woke me up completely and making lunches took no time at all. We then had breakfast together, just the two of us, before it was time to go wake up his siblings. I think he liked this Just Us time, and he was very chipper when walking to school.

His older siblings were a different story. First Son, as usual, had a difficult time waking up, although not as difficult as usual. Perhaps it's because he has a slight cold and I gave him cough syrup last night. It might have helped him nod off a little earlier than usual. He was still pretty grumpy though, especially when I insisted that he wear his snow pants to school. I worry about him when he leaves the house grumpy. I don't think it bodes well for his day at school. I tried to be cheerful as we walked to school, though, and I think that lifted his spirits. (Especially since we weren't late for once!) He seemed happy enough to run join his friends in the school yard. Without a back ward glance at me, mind you, but I guess one can't have it all...

Daughter was her usual reserved self. She said she would have liked me to wake her up earlier so she wouldn't have to rush in the morning. It's hard to guess which days she wants that and which days she wants to turn over and go back to sleep... I'm walking on eggshells around that one... She wasn't very talkative in the car. As usual, I got no response to my Have A Good Day. :o(

But we want a positive post for this Monday (Tuesday!) morning! :o) I had a lovely half-hour with Second Son as I made lunches, and when I reminded him that he had a permission slip in his school bag to go to Tubes et Jujubes with his kindergarden class next week, and that this time, for the first time, I would accompany his class as a volunteer, I got an enthusiastic, "Oh! Yeah! I love you so much when you come with my class to Tubes et Jujubes!" Really? Only then? :D

Happy Tuesday Monday everyone!

Bowling... For Pleasure?

The children have been asking me to go bowling for some time. Today, I finally took them to the bowling alley. I was looking forward to it because... well, because they were! :o)  I thought this would be a fun family activity. Well, it kind of was, but we really had to work at it.

I think the thing to remember when we plan a fun activity that everyone can enjoy is that if the kids are looking forward to it, they probably have visions of glory in their heads already. Those thought bubbles tend to pop with the first gutter ball.

Let me start by saying that paying forty dollars for shoe rentals and two games seemed really expensive to me. I had to put it on credit and I admit I felt a cold shudder when paying, as if my credit card company were standing right behind me with shiny eyes like Count Olaf, rubbing his greedy hands together at the thought of all the interest I will have to pay. But the kids were happy, so I shrugged the feeling off.

As soon as we put our bowling shoes on, the lane was ready for practice. The boys spun their balls down the lane, not even waiting for the machine to reset the pins. They had some small successes and many gutter balls, but they never even saw this because as soon as the ball left their hands they spun around to grab another one, not even checking to see what they may have knocked down.

Next, the fun began.

We played in order, from youngest to oldest. Second Son was doing pretty well. He would stand at the end of the lane with his feet set wide apart and, holding the ball with both hands, he bent over, swung the ball between his legs and released it as it came back toward the pins. After the release, he would more often than not find himself spread-eagle on his stomach, watching from ground level as his ball veered dangerously close to the gutter, but luckily managed to stay in the lane and knock down two or three pins as a result.

First Son, who had gone bowling during Spring Break with his day camp, was full of confidence, advice for his little brother, stories about how he had been the best bowler in his whole camp, but pretty much threw one gutter ball after the other. The bragging didn't last long. He started throwing his ball any old way and stomping back to his chair in an angry huff. No fun. For any of us.

Daughter was having an average game, although she also mentioned that last time, when she had gone bowling with her class, she had bowled much better than this. She's a big girl, though, so she tackled each turn as it came, trying to improve her score. I did pretty well once I got into it. I even got a couple of strikes. But first Son wasn't enjoying himself. What's more, he was dampening everyone else's mood. Something had to be done.

Since my score was pretty high, I asked First Son if he wanted to play for me when it was my turn. I figured it would be better to let him have a bad throw and see that it didn't upset me than for me to throw gutter balls intentionally. Then, when it was his turn, and he got a gutter ball again, I offered to roll his second ball. Pretty soon, everyone was playing for everyone else, and forgetting about the score. When someone got a gutter ball, I reassured them that the first game was just for practice. They would surely do better in the second.

By the time the second game rolled around, the kids were in a good mood and thankfully enjoyed bowling. Then they asked if they could try with the big balls. (We had been playing 10-pin with the smaller ones.) Unfortunately, the woman at the counter said that Second Son was too small, she wouldn't let him play. That was a disappointment for him, and also for the other two, who I wouldn't let play without him. 

There were also pool tables at the bowling alley, so we decided to play a game of pool instead. The boys were very enthusiastic because they like to play pool on a small recreational table at after-school care and they also have a small table-top pool table at home. These tables were full size, that is to say HUGE. Well, it didn't take long for the boys to realize that playing on a table this size was more difficult. Suddenly, the bad moods returned. They were angry when they missed a ball, wanted to try again, argued, complained and basically took the fun out of the game. Not to mention that I was pretty ashamed of my young'uns because of their behavior. Daughter was pretty good at pool, but she decided to stop playing to leave more balls on the table for the boys, who didn't even appreciate it. They complained that the cues were too heavy, the table too high, etc. etc. So when we finished the game, we didn't pay for a second one, but came home instead.

In the car, I was thinking, "Never again." I was hung up on the money it had cost, which I regretted spending since the boys didn't enjoy themselves as much as they should have. I was also thinking, "When did they grow to be such sore sports?" It didn't use to matter what the result was, we had fun whatever we played. Baseball could have been frustrating when they couldn't hit the ball, but it wasn't. We just laughed about it and encouraged each other to keep trying. Basketball could have been no fun because the nets were too high for the boys, but it wasn't. We just celebrated all the more when one of us miraculously got a basket on a lucky shot. So what gives with bowling?

The only other activity that I have to tell the boys to stop because they aren't enjoying it is computer games. If they don't win those games, they start hitting the keys and the mouse harder and harder, grumbling at the computer and eventually shouting, at which time I have to step in because they obviously aren't having fun. That, of course, makes me the bad guy. I don't know if it is the computer games that have gotten the boys into this habit of totally not enjoying themselves when they are not winning, or if it's something else in their environment. Perhaps it's genetics? I used to think of myself as a patient person, but I have to admit that as the children started school and learned bad words and bad behavior, even I have a shorter fuse when they start to misbehave.

I don't know what is at the root of the problem, but I am disappointed about this afternoon's outing. If the kids ever ask me to go bowling again, I hope that I remember what happened today. That doesn't mean that I will flat out refuse to take them, but it would be nice to think of discussing good sportsmanship and the fact that the main idea is to have FUN, and this discussion has to take place before we get to the bowling alley, not during our first game. If I can remember to bring this up with the kids, and if we end up having a better time next time, then at least I can say that something good has come out of what happened today. There is something to be said for the Live And Learn concept. I am going to try to be like Anne Shirley, and never make the same mistake twice.

Take Two

A few weeks ago I shared my excitement of having written an entrance exam at the Université du Québec en Outaouais. Today was the University of Ottawa exam. Hopefully one or the other (dare I hope both?) of these schools will accept me into their translation program.

Today's exam was quite different from the previous one. For one thing, we weren't allowed our Petit Larousse and Webster's Collegiate dictionaries. It was also a paper exam, so I had to be really careful not to misspell anything because I had no spell-check to back me up. The types of questions were also pretty different. Both exams were three hours long.

Today's exam started with ten grammar questions. Each question had four sentences in it. We had to find the sentence with the grammar mistake and then correct it. This part was pretty easy, since these are the things I used to harp on when I taught French as a Second Language. 

The second section was vocabulary and I do have to admit there were plenty of words I wasn't familiar with. Most of my French vocabulary is career and government-related, and some of these questions were outside that field. I am only 100% sure of five of my ten answers. *gulp*

After this was a text with 20 mistakes in it that we had to identify and correct. The fact that I knew there were twenty helped a lot. I corrected the text, then went back and counted the mistakes that I had found. I think I did well in this section.

Next, we had to write a 350-word summary in French for a newspaper article we read in English. Pretty standard stuff.

After the summary was the English as a Second Language section, where we read an excerpt from a novel in French, and had to answer questions about it in English. Most of the questions required an answer of at least 20 words, the last one asked for 200 words. I think this part went pretty well, except for one question where we were asked to identify grammar points that were no longer used in modern French. I picked out what struck me as different and went with that, but I'm not sure if I replied correctly.

I am certainly not as confident after this exam as I was after the first one, but I still hope I did well enough to be accepted. Now that I have applied to the universities and written the entrance exams, all that is left to do it wait. It's pretty nerve-racking. I'm not as nervous about UQO as U of O, but U of O is the one I would really like to attend, especially since tuition fees are going up in Quebec. I am trying to be realistic, so I won't count my chickens before they hatch. Still, I hope that today I at least showed U of O that I have potential. We shall see...

In the meantime, life continues. The children were with my brother while I was writing the exam. He took my youngest to gymnastics and played with the other two at the playground outside. In a way, the exam was a bit of a break from the kids for me. Now I am ready to plunge in again and play, play, play! Unfortunately, the kids are pretty tuckered out, so they are vegging out in front of the TV watching a film on VHS. So, now that I have finished this post, I can focus my energies on a big pile of dirty dishes. Oh, joy!

Spring and I Have Reconciled

Now that the weather isn't as sweltering hot as it was a few days ago, I am finally allowing myself to enjoy spring. The tulips have popped out of the ground, my small lilac bush has small leaves on it and my larger lilac bush is definitely budding. Birds are singing through my open windows. It's nice.

Spring has come pretty early to the Ottawa area this year. I'm still not certain that another snowstorm won't take us by surprise at the end of April, but for the time being, this is nice. It's Friday, the children have a three-day weekend starting tomorrow, and miraculously no one has caught that final, dreadful spring cold that sometimes sneaks up on us. Knock on wood.

This shall be a weekend of planting flower seeds (inside, for the time being), bicycle rides and a visit to a cabane à sucre for a walk in the woods and a pancake lunch with lots of maple syrup. Possibly some eggs and bacon too. ;o)

I am thankful that spring has arrived. The days are growing longer and the children can stay outside a little later to play. I'm sure we are going to get the baseball equipment out soon, as well as the soccer and basketballs. The bikes have been out of the back shed for a while now, and the nearby Dairy Queen is once again open for business.

We live in such a perfect location. There is a nice park only a block and a half away with two playgrounds, a baseball field, basketball courts, and a sandy beach on the Ottawa River. (Or, as the local French population likes to call it, the Rivière des Outaouais.) A little further in the opposite direction, we are on the doorstep of Gatineau Park. Spring is the time to take advantage of all these treasures while the sun is shining, but it isn't so smotheringly hot as to drive me indoors until after the sun sets. (Remember, I don't take to the heat very well.)

Today's post is a bit of a reconciliation with spring, but also an apology for the less-than-positive post I wrote a while ago about spring arriving. Like any other human being, I can be grumpy about some things sometimes, but now spring has managed to thaw even my winter-loving heart. :o)

Mothers and Daughters

I know there are many books written about the relationship between mothers and daughters. I've never read any of them. I didn't feel the need to. I have a very good relationship with my mother, and from the moment my beautiful little girl slipped out of my tummy, she and I were one and life was pretty darn rosy... Apart from the fact that she didn't sleep through the night 'till she was about two. But that I am willing to overlook... My baby girl had the silkiest blonde hair, the brightest smile and the cutest habits of any baby girl on Earth. I swear. She was at home with me until she was 18 months old, at which time I went to work and she went to daycare. I wanted to give her every advantage possible in life. I taught her sign language before she was old enough to talk, and when she started daycare in a Montessori institution, I studied up on what they were doing with her during the day and created a continuation at home. Truly, our apartment was a miniature daycare center. I bought Daughter mini cutlery and she was cutting and eating her own pancakes by the time she was two. I saved old boxes and jars so she could practice opening them and unscrewing the lids. I bought her safety scissors and acrylic paint. I let her wash the dishes - anything that was neither breakable or sharp she washed herself, standing on a chair at the kitchen sink. Life was absolutely wonderful. She knew she had my unconditional love and she returned it in kind. We were The Girls. We did everything together. When her baby brother arrived, Daughter proved to be an excellent big sister. She gave him kisses, made him a collage with stickers to put by his crib, and of course genuinely loved him.

Our relationship blossomed as Daughter got older. I started teaching her letters and how to write. This was pretty easy since our mother tongue, Hungarian, has just one way to pronounce each letter and just one letter for each sound we pronounce, with only one exception. Daughter was soon writing little stories and learning to read. When she started to learn all this again in French, she had figured the system out and had no trouble with the fact that there may be several ways to write the sound o in French. (au, eau, ault, aut, aux... you get the picture.)

Unfortunately, our perfect lives had one not-so-great aspect: my relationship with my husband was not a very good one, and on several occasions I had wished that I could just move out with the kids and lead separate lives from him. When our third child came along, we tried to make a genuine effort to fix the relationship because I told him that if things didn't change in a year, that would be the end of our marriage. We moved, he started working for his mother's business, and I stayed home with the baby. The attempt to get along didn't last long. I won't go into all the details, but after a year and a half, I finally left. It took me that long because I had no money to leave, and no real courage either. But there came a point where enough was enough, and I had no choice but to leave him.

Leaving my husband led to the events that have ruined my relationship with my daughter, a relationship that I am desperately trying to salvage. Two years after I left him, my husband took the three kids and left the country. I didn't see them for a year. When I finally got them back, the damage had been done. He had had a year to exert his influence on the children, especially on our daughter, who was 9 years old at the time. He filled her head full of lies about me and things between us have never been the same.

Nowadays, my daughter doesn't answer me when I tell her good night, good morning, have a nice day, how was your day... you get the picture. The only response to my "Have a nice day!" this morning was a frown and a slammed car door. The only thing my daughter wants from me is to send her to live with her father. She thinks that I'm the one who is a kidnapper because I took her and her brothers with me when I left my husband. This is what he told her, but he neglected to mention that I never denied him access to the kids. Not once. It is hard to deal with the brainwashing Daughter has received because I refuse to sink to her father's level and start badmouthing him. I would only go as far as to point out to her that if everything had been so good, then I wouldn't have left. I had my reasons. But now that she is with me and her father is overseas, she idolizes him. He can do no wrong, while I am the root of all evil. It is a frustrating situation to live, not to mention the pain of rejection every time I reach out to her.

I try to give her everything she needs and anticipate the things that she may like. She has shown an interest in cake decorating, and she will soon start her second cake decorating course, learning to decorate with fondant and gumpaste. It is something that we signed up to do together, but I sometimes get the feeling she wishes I weren't there with her. It's getting to the point where I am feeling apologetic about imposing myself on her. This is not the kind of mother-daughter relationship I was expecting to have with her, at least not until she was an adolescent! People tell me it is the same way with their eleven year olds, but I think that Daughter is taking it to a whole other level with me.

Friends and family continue to encourage me to persevere, and say that when she is older she will recognize everything that I have done for her, but I am not sure that she will. For example, when she was 8 she wanted to try horseback riding. I signed her up for a week during the summer, after which she started regular weekly lessons in September. She loved riding and was learning fast, gaining confidence and not letting her stubborn pony get out of hand. Then, suddenly, one day she refused to go any more. She said that I only signed her up because I wanted to ride but couldn't and so I was forcing her. I don't mean to point any fingers, but three guesses as to who put this idea in her head, and the last two don't count. It is true that I rode when I was young, and that I would love to again, but I can't leave three young children at home and take off for half a day to have a lesson every week. I am not complaining. My hope was to have all three kids learn to ride so we could all go as a family. On a side note, we have learned since then that my youngest is allergic to horses, so that idea has been scrapped. There is still my dream that we can all go scuba diving together, but that is a few years off yet, since the kids aren't old enough now and I certainly don't have the money to get them all certified.

But back to Daughter. Once she stopped taking riding lessons, we had more free time on the weekends to do other things, but she was always reluctant to do anything with me. Even if the boys are playing at a friend's house and I invite her to scrapbook with me (she loves scrapbooking), she refuses. She prefers to hide in her room and watch movies on youtube. Anything to get away from me. The situation has gotten so bad, that now we have a social worker who is trying to help us figure things out. I am enthusiastic, Daughter is indifferent about it all.

Where am I going with this? Oh! yes! Today I decided that the next time I go to the library, I am going to go look in the parenting section for a book on the subject of mothers and daughters. If only for Daughter to see that I am reading it, so maybe one day she will allow herself to believe that I really do want a relationship with her, as opposed to what she believes now: that I am keeping her with me just to keep her away from her father, so he will be sad and lonely. She thinks I don't even want her, but she couldn't be further from the truth. I still see the gummy, toothless smiles she gave me as a baby whenever I look at her. I still remember waking up with her on Saturdays and making breakfast together while Dad slept in. I remember all the things we did the summer she was three, when her baby brother would nap for two hours each afternoon, when we would do our Big Girl Things. I do so want to find that place again, where we have fun together, doing things we both love. We are not there yet, but hopefully one day... I'll keep you posted.

kijiji adventures

I have mentioned before that I discovered kijiji last fall when we sold the bikes that the boys outgrew. They were very excited with it all because they got to keep the money and put it into their bank accounts. If I remember correctly, they got about 35 dollars each.

Since then, we have sold and purchased numerous items through the kijiji Ottawa web site, so I think I can say that I have plenty of kijiji experience, and I have discovered that kijiji is a phenomenon all its own. I have studied it, I think it is fair to say, in its totality in space and time, and have come to the following conclusion: kijiji is like everything else in life: full of promise... and frustration.

Selling things through kijiji certainly has its advantages, namely that people come right to your door to pick up their purchases and that they pay cash. This eliminates the need to organize a garage sale during which you would have to sit out on your front lawn in the sweltering heat only to have no one walk by, after which you would have to stuff everything back into your garage again. Assuming you have one.

kijiji is also a great place to post your resume or simply advertise that you are a French teacher with many years of experience and are willing to correct people's business documents and school assignments for a modest fee. If you're a ventriloquist, you can post an ad without having to utter a single word out loud. No one will see your lips move.

Now, the kijiji buyer is a species all on its own. He is the next step in the evolution towards wanting things cheap and still being too lazy to go out and get them. Case in point: when my cell phone died, I gave it back to Telus for them to recycle, but I had kept my car charger and also my regular charger. I posted them on kijiji in the phones, PDAs, ipods section. About fifteen minutes later, I received an enthusiastic reply from someone who said that he was a pizza delivery man who used a gps navigator on his phone and it would be so handy to be able to charge it right there in his vehicle. I replied to him, giving him my address and the times when I would be home. Since I was giving the items away for free, I also told him that if I wasn't home when he came by, he would find the chargers in a plastic bag tied to the  newspaper hook on my mailbox. He said he would come by that evening, but he never did. The next day I e-mailed him to ask if he still wanted the chargers. He never replied, so I replied to the next person who had replied to the ad. He also said he would come by and get them, but never showed. After five more of these incidents, I realized that a) lots of people seemed to want my phone chargers and b) someone had to pay for my frustrations. So I deleted the ad and reposted the chargers for fifteen dollars.  No one has inquired about them, but I feel better. :o)

When you want to buy something on kijiji, it is best to keep in mind that the kijiji seller is actually just a regular homo sapiens. He is not a salesperson and certainly not a professional. Don't expect great customer service. You might come across someone who agrees to sell you something, but then writes back that since you didn't reply within an hour, they sold it to someone else. You might also come across people who misrepresent what they have, such as if they say they have a bed to give away, but they neglect to mention that they only have a mattress and frame, and that the slats that would keep the mattress from falling through to the floor are somewhere in their garage, but they can't be bothered to look for them, so they aren't giving you that part. "But it's a great bed!" I suggest you don't worry too much over the frustration caused by people like this. In the end, there is always a RONA nearby with friendly salespeople who will sell you two-by-fours and plywood. They will even cut it to size for you.

I have mentioned before that I am in need of new kitchen chairs, since my boys have destroyed two of the four-year-old IKEA chairs we had. (One was a matter of hanging heavy things on the backrest so the chair got top-heavy and fell over once too often. The backrest actually broke off. The other one was thrown to the ground in a rare but unbelievably destructive temper tantrum. Ditto for the result.) This weekend, I emailed a person who had 150 chairs to sell for six dollars each, and said that I wanted to buy four chairs. I also mentioned that I could come by for them any night after Tuesday. (Monday nights are a bit hectic with soccer practice.) He emailed back that it was fine and gave me his phone number, asking me to let him know when I was ready to come. So yesterday night (yesterday being Tuesday), I called him at around six o'clock and said that I was ready to leave. Would he please confirm the address for me? The response? He is home for the night and I can pick the chairs up any time between 9 am and 3 pm. I reminded him that in the email I had said that I would pick it up one NIGHT, but he said sorry, he hadn't read that. So there was the promise of finally getting my new kitchen chairs, followed by the frustration of an unprofessional person not caring to pay enough attention as to read a two-sentence email properly. Okay, long story short: This morning at nine, I called him and he gave me the address. I am now sitting pretty on four nice blue metal chairs with soft cushiony seats. Keep the faith.

Spring Is In The Air! ugh.

When we were at the park on Saturday enjoying the warmer weather, a reporter and her cameraman went around asking people what they thought about spring arriving and about how the temperature would climb as high as twenty degrees the next day. I preferred not to comment. I don't think my kind of comments are the kind they were looking for anyway.

Don't get me wrong. I did enjoy sitting on a park bench watching the boys swing on the monkey bars, sliding, running around and generally getting way too much sand in their shoes. But to me, spring will inevitably usher summer in, and I happen to be a winter baby. I wilt in the sun, which is a nice way of saying that even with a hat, sunglasses and plenty of water in my stainless steel bottle, I inevitably get a headache and start wanting to puke. Most years I am happy to watch summer from the cool confines of my air conditioned office's window, commuting to work early enough to beat the heat of the day.

I got a taste of what is waiting for me on Sunday, when the temperature did indeed rise above twenty degrees. It didn't take long for me to feel drained and then the headache kicked in. There was a silver lining in this, though. When we came home for lunch and I gratefully sank into a chair in our cool, shady kitchen, the boys and their friend from across the street asked if they could go back to the playground alone. Seeing as it is only a block away and most of their classmates were already there, I agreed, so long as they promised to cross at the four-way stop sign, not in the middle of the road, and also not to talk to strangers, unless it was obvious that the stranger was the parent of a friend they might meet at the park. So after lunch they went back to the school yard and I took advantage of their absence to pick up and vacuum the kitchen and living room. Daughter was busy mixing icing for that evening's cake decorating class.

Yesterday was another hot day, with the thermometer indicating 25 degrees by late afternoon. Needless to say, I cringed going outside, hoping to make it to the school and back without feeling too hot and sticky. I guess it's the fact that the warm weather came so fast, I haven't had time to acclimatize yet. And by the time I do, spring will be over and summer will be here with even hotter temps. :/

This summer I don't want to put the children in day camp, since I won't be working. I do hope to enjoy the summer with them before I (hopefully!) start university in the fall. I am not sure how to let them enjoy the heat while at the same time avoiding feeling sick and uncomfortable myself. I will have to think about it, because I don't want them to miss out on anything because of me. The ideas I have so far are A) to get our outside activities taken care of early, like maybe hiking or biking from 8 to 10, before the heat really gets unbearable, B) going to museums to enjoy the air conditioning and C) spending plenty of time at the pool. I know the children will like doing all of these things, I just hope they won't get bored of them by the end of the summer, especially since a vacation out of town is definitely not in the budget. (I believe I clarified that point in yesterday's post.)

The one thing I would really love to do is to spend the hot summer afternoons in our cool living room - I have thermal curtains that are pretty good at keeping the heat out - and reading some of my favorite books. Unfortunately, I am not really counting on being able to do that. For one thing, Daughter doesn't like to read, or so she claims, although she is always happy to get new books out of the library. For another thing, Second Son doesn't read yet, so he couldn't join in unless I read to him, which would mean reading his favorite books instead of mine. Third but definitely not least, the two boys don't have the patience to sit still and read for too long. They are young and full of energy and unless that energy is channeled into a positive activity, they will inevitable start picking on each other, yelling and eventually hitting. So I will have to come up with something less calm, more physical for them to do in the afternoon. 'Cause I don't want to go outside until the evening, when the heat of the day is finally starting to withdraw.

For now, the school year is yet far from over and I do have some time to read every day. I will take advantage of that time while I can. I do love to read and I enjoy posting my reviews on goodreads. Short as some of them may be, they do allow me to write, which I also want to keep up with. And speaking of reading-related web sites, you can enter a draw to win three book at candle beam book blog, a book blog. Obviously. The books seem very interesting. I didn't go for all thirteen entries, but I did enter 'cause it would be fun to get some interesting books in the mail.

I leave you to have a nice day and enjoy the heat if that is your thing. :o)

I'll be hiding somewhere in the shade.

Counting Your Chickens

I had never cared much for or about money until I suddenly became low-income. When I was married my husband was pretty much in charge of our household finances. He paid the bills, he made the investments. My only contribution was the paycheck that went into our joint account. When I left him, I thankfully and miraculously landed a well-paying job and since my main focus was helping the children deal with the separation, I shelled out a lot of dough to make our new apartment feel like home and to make sure they had everything they could possibly want and need. From bicycles to private daycare to horseback riding lessons, I was now the main provider. Now that I am counting every penny, I am much more aware of how much money I (don't) have. I wish I had been more responsible with the money I had, putting more into savings and less into long weekends out of town.

This weekend I spent a little time online looking into how to make a budget. I came upon some interesting software that I unfortunately couldn't download because my old comp couldn't support it, but I also read some articles on the subject. Mostly, I was bummed to see that I really couldn't apply the budget to my income because really it all gets eaten up by the must-haves. I can't make my minimum payments, let alone put money aside for savings.

Nevertheless, I have decided to share with you the simplest, easiest to understand budget that I came across. This is how you are supposedly to distribute the money you have. It is called the 50-30-20 Budget.

First of all, you are to calculate this budget based on your income after taxes. 50% of this income can be spent on what are called "must-haves". This is where I get into trouble, because my must-haves take up about 150% of my income. Seriously. Anywhoo... "Must-haves" include essential things like your rent or mortgage, utilities and telephone bill, daycare, groceries, gas, insurance and any minimum payments that you have to pay for credit debt.

The second group of things that you spend on are the "wants". Wants are non-essentials such as taking a vacation, dining out, entertainment (CONCERTS! oh! how I miss going to concerts!), cable and internet access and any extras you get for your phone service such as voice messaging or caller ID. Oh, and I forgot clothes. I never buy those anyway so they slipped my mind. Sorry!

According to budgeting experts, you should spend 30% of your income (after taxes, remember!) on your "wants". I am actually pretty good about these things, since I don't have cable tv and we never really dine out or spend on entertainment. (Thank goodness for all the free passes to museums, etc. that we can get from our municipal library!) We have also, for lack of funds, stopped vacationing out of town. We spent March break doing (free) things right here in the Outaouais. As for clothing, the kids inevitably need bigger clothes, but the Saint-Vincent-de-Paul is really good for cheap second-hand clothes and I can use Airmiles in exchange for gift cards to stores like Gap Kids, where Daughter likes to shop. Add to that the fact that my sister is generously paying for my internet access, and I think I'm good.

The last 20% of your after-tax income should go to the "savings and debt repayment" category. Basically, if you are debt-free, you should be putting this money aside for your retirement, a special vacation or as emergency funds. Emergency funds are what I wish I had put aside for, now that I am not able to work full-time.  :/

If you do have debt, then you use the last 20% of your income to make payments that are over and beyond the minimum payments required by your credit cards, credit lines and bank loans. (In my case, there is also still a student loan.)

So there you have it. I am not sure where in there I would fit the kids' allowance and the fact that I need new kitchen chairs because the boys have destroyed two of the ones we have. This is where I come to counting my chickens.

Last fall, when both boys outgrew their bikes, I discovered kijiji. Since then, we have sold a few items online. My daughter sold some toys that she has outgrown and she got to keep the money to put in her bank account. I have also sold some excess furniture that wasn't doing much more than taking up space, as well as outgrown booster seats and horseback riding boots. Stuff like that.

Inevitably, if you post stuff on kijiji, you eventually end up browsing to see what is available. That is how we found my first son a BMX bike (which his aunt actually paid for) and some books that he spent his own money on. I have found some kitchen chairs at six bucks a piece (picking them up tomorrow night) as well as numerous other items that would definitely fall in the "wants" category. My problem is that I am so happy to find things at a good price, I want to buy everything and that, ultimately, would cost me a ton. Nevertheless, once I sold the train table we no longer used, for example, I used the money to but a bathroom mirror, because the tiny one we had was so small the boys couldn't even see themselves in it unless they climbed up on the counter. Besides which, I have always wanted a Greek style bathroom and this mirror fits perfectly.

Now, this weekend I sold my son's booster seat for twenty dollars, so I figured I could finally buy the four kitchen chairs, which will come to $24 total. But once I gave Daughter the money I owed her for chores and sent the kids to the dépanneur to buy icing sugar, most of the money is gone so I have to get some out of the bank to get the chairs.

I am such a scatterbrain that not only do I count my chickens before they are hatched, like agreeing to go get the chairs before I even got the payment for the booster seat, I also forget all my debts, large and small, and spend money that I should really put in the bank to make credit card payments. However, I do believe that a healthy life is a balanced life. So, regardless of the fact that I should really keep to the strict minimum (really! we could just picnic on the living room floor!) I do spend more than I ought to. Is this responsible? No? Do I care? Not really, although sometimes I wonder...

Where Did I Go Wrong?

I have been increasingly discouraged by my children's behavior lately. This morning it hit me again as not one of them replied to my "Have a good day." What gives?

I will be the first to admit that I am too lenient with my children. From when they were very little my biggest goal was for them to be happy. But happy shouldn't mean impolite. I like to think that I present a good model for them. I say hello to people we pass on the sidewalk or when we go into a store. I say thank you and goodbye once we've paid. If we take the bus I greet the driver and say thank you when we get off. I wonder why my kids don't follow my example...

I will leave my daughter out when mentioning this morning, because she never, ever says have a good day when I drop her off. She hates school. She also never says good night back when I say it to her. She hates me too, or feels she has to in order to stay loyal to her father. Our relationship is subject matter for a whole other post. I'll leave it at that for now.

My boys surprised me this morning. Usually, when I say have a good day, they say it back and I often get a smile and a hug before they go into the schoolyard. Today they just walked off as if they hadn't even heard me. Where did common courtesy go?

I noticed it last night too. No bon appétit when we sat down to eat, no thanks for supper. They didn't even bother to stay at the table until everyone had finished. Daughter ate and went upstairs to surf the web. Second Son gobbled down his food and ran out to play with the little boy across the street. The worst thing is they wouldn't stay when I asked them, then outright told them to stay at the table. When did we reach the point where they don't listen any more?

I am trying to figure out where it all went wrong. I know they listen to their teachers, so why not me? Why do I not have any authority any more? I once read that children behave better for other people because they want to be liked by them, whereas with their parents they know that they have their unconditional love, so they permit themselves to misbehave. I think our situation goes beyond that now. The children don't listen and they just don't care. Something has definitely changed with us. Before, when there was a problem, I would sit down with them and talk it out. I would get them to empathize with whoever they were rude to or fought with. Things would make sense to them and the problem would be dealt with. Nowadays, they can't sit still ten seconds to talk and listen, let alone long enough to really get to the heart of the matter.

I think that I am patient, respectful, kind and considerate. It is how I really try to be. I wonder why I can't transmit these things to my children. Even when I sometimes lose patience, I always talk about it afterward and apologize to the kids if I was too cross with them. Why didn't they learn this behavior from me? 

When I think of how I was brought up, I think my parents were pretty strict. I remember crying when my father told me how disappointed he was with me when my report card wasn't straight A's in grade six. I also remember feeling really bad when I was with him at work one day, and he said hello to someone as we were walking down the hall. I didn't say hello because I didn't know the person and my father was very stern with me. He said that if he says hello to someone, I have to also. His voice was very strict and disappointed at the same time. I felt ashamed. That is how I learned to say hello to people. Now, I recognize that it is the right way to behave. After all, we live in a society. What I am wondering is this: can children only grow up to be polite if their parents are strict? I try to raise my kids on love instead of guilt, but guilt is what made me the way I am today. I think I am a good person and usually a good role model. When my dad humiliated me as a child, I swore I would raise my kids differently, but does my way work?

There are too many questions, not enough answers in this post today.

One answer I can think of is that the children's father is a stronger role model than I am. He doesn't hesitate to put me in a bad light and since he has no respect for me, the children might model themselves on his behavior. They did spend the whole Christmas break with him, so that might explain why their behavior toward me has deteriorated. But I feel like I am looking for a scapegoat there. I am with the kids full-time, they have ample opportunity to see what I am like. They must see, know and feel that I love them. So why don't they respect me? It's not a question of being disrespectful because they know I will love them anyway. It's a question of if they love me, then shouldn't they be nice to me? I am at a loss.

I have decided to watch for a time with each child when he or she is in a good mood, calm, and not in the middle of something that I would be interrupting. I hope to talk about this with them at that time. I think that would be better than pointing out how rude they are right when they are doing it. I would probably sound too accusing then and that would put them on the defensive. I don't want them to be on the defensive. I just want them to understand how I feel and how they might be making other people feel if they behave this way toward them. I keep telling them that we have to love everyone and be kind, but the message has obviously not gotten through. This is definitely something to work on.

Oh! the Thinks You Can Think! (This Isn't A Diet But I Sure Hope It Works!)

I have thinked and thinked and thinked like Dr. Seuss and tapped my noggin generously like Winnie the Pooh and here is what I have come up with.

It isn't a diet and I still feel it lacks greatly in the motivation category, but while coming up with it I have actually been drinking plenty of water so maybe there is something to it that just might work.

I started by inventorying everything I could think of about how to eat well and be healthy. It became quite intimidating and even pretty stressful, wondering what it is that I have forgotten. Anyway, I started with the basics. I personally need 2.8 liters of water a day, and I also heard that it is best to spread it out and drink about 200 mL every hour. I did the math and if I drink 200 mL every hour for 14 hours, I get enough water. I am not going to be especially strict with myself, so if I drink a little more or a little less, that's okay. But I AM awake for over 14 hours of the day, so it's doable. And since I am working from home right now, there is no problem with having to go to the bathroom all day long. Which is inevitable. So now that I have figured this out, I figure I can do it because once I develop a habit, it is so frequent that I cannot forget about it. Which reminds me... I need to drink again. :p

Water isn't my only concern but it is the easiest thing to take care of. Other things are more complicated. There is so much to remember and I am quite the scatterbrain. So what I have come up with is this: a memory box. It is not like the photo boxes I have with old pictures, concert tickets and my babies' hospital bracelets from when they were born. This is a box in which I keep my daily reminders. I haven't made it yet, but it will basically be like a recipe box with recipe (or index) cards inside. I am going to glue a clear pocket onto the front or top (haven't decided yet) of the box. On the cards in the box, I will write things like "eat two portions of dairy today," "eat fish three times a week," "go to bed at a decent time and sleep at least nine hours" or "go for a run today." Every day, I will pull out a card at random and try to concentrate on whatever it tells me to do. In the meantime, I figure I will have other things that I remember, so while I won't overload my brain with all the things I have to do at once - and get nothing done in the process - I will take baby steps and hopefully develop healthier habits this way. Even if they don't become habits, at least I should get around to everything once in a while, which is what balance is really about, isn't it? So this should work, as long as I don't forget to draw a new card every day. Sort of like my personal little health lottery. Today you win... veggies instead of potatoes as a side dish! Yaay! (See? I can be enthusiastic if I want to! Hopefully that is where the motivation to actually stick with this will come from.)

So I have to get a recipe box with plain cards, and start brainstorming about all the things I can write on them. We will see how well this works. I'll keep you posted.

Starting the Uphill Climb

For me, the scariest part of a rollercoaster is when the cart is slowly being dragged up the first hill. I'm afraid of heights and as I look around (down!) I am convinced that there is some strong magnetic force calling me, pulling me to the ground. I am convinced I am going to fall. Once the ride starts whizzing down and around the track, I can enjoy it even if it's scary. But that first uphill climb is where I really wish I could get off.

Life is the same way for me. Yesterday I was feeling really down and that was a starting point. You just can't stay down unless you resign yourself to living in the depths of despair, as Anne Shirley would put it. So wanting to feel better and happy was the first step out of the gloom for me. Once I had finished dwelling on how sick, broke, fat and depressed I am, I got to the point where I kicked myself in the arse and said, "Snap out of it! Do something about it!" But even that is only half the battle. Poverty is not something you can just shake off. You have to have education, experience, a good resumé and someone willing to give you employment. Planets have to be properly aligned.

Luckily for me in this month of March 2012, I do have a contract to create lesson plans. So one thing I could do (that I could finally do today, but was emotionally and therefor physically unable to do yesterday!) was sit down in front of the laptop my sister has generously given me and start working on the course. That is a huge step and I am well into it now. So, for the time being at least, it looks like I will be able to make rent on the 1st without having to dip into credit.

The other thing that is hard to deal with is my depression. That isn't something you can just shake off either. There is no magic wand that can change the circumstances of a person's life to make everything just peachy. Still, I know that how we feel emotionally is related to how well we take care of ourselves. My physical health isn't that great either and that is something I have to do something about. I know I have to drink plenty of water and eat well, so why do I always forget to drink water? And WHY do I eat fatty, salty, unhealthy foods? (Not to mention my sweet tooth!) Well, I haven't come up with a solution yet, but I have decided that I have to come up with a system that will help me remember all the things I usually forget when it comes to my health. 'Cause writing down everything I eat and how much water I drink is not a good system. The minute I eat something unhealthy,  I either stop writing things down or tear out the page and start all over. It just doesn't work.

So my goal is to come up with something that will help me remember to take good care of my body. I am in desperate need of it, but it has to be something simple and something that is cheap. If I could afford to sign up for Minçavie, I would do it, but I can't afford to. (Minçavie is a program, like Weight Watchers, that helped me lose weight in 1999, before I got pregnant for the first time. It was great, but unfortunately I didn't stick with it once I had the baby. I still more or less remember how it worked, but I have lost all my recipes and portion lists and stuff.)

So this is my assignment for tomorrow: to create a "personal health plan." It seems daunting, but I know that one can do anything if one only puts one's mind to it. We'll see what I come up with. Right now, I equate the task to learning how to climb a mountain!

Bad News All Around

I promised myself I would try not to use this blog to bitch and whine too much, but at the moment I feel like I have to get all of this out or I will be completely useless today. And everyday.

This morning was a pretty tough one, to say the least. First Son had asked me to wake him at five so he could prepare his lunch bag. This of course was silly, and I told him so, but I said I would wake him at six, when I got up to make the lunches. He agreed. Last night. This morning at six, though, which of course was more like five anyway due to the spring time change, he couldn't get up, so I told him never mind, I would wake him at seven and I would make the lunches myself, which I did. First Son went back to sleep. At seven, though, I could only get Daughter and Second Son out of bed. First Son stubbornly refused. He was angry that I hadn't insisted on him getting up at six, and he just wouldn't get up.

Luckily, Second Son and Daughter ate their breakfast nicely and got ready for school, but waiting on First Son was making us all late. So in the end I told First Son that he would have to get up, eat, and walk to school, because I wasn't going to make the other two late because of him. I went out to scrape the frost off the car and we got ready to leave. Meanwhile, First Son finally got out of bed, screaming in a really ugly, angry voice for us to wait for him, which we did for a while, but I saw that my daughter was going to be late for school if we didn't leave right then. So I told Second Son to take his lunch box and walk to school. He was already late himself, so he would have to go through the office and get a pass from the secretary.

The school is only one block away and there is one street to cross. Of course by then the crossing guards weren't there any more, but it is an easy street to cross as there are four-way stop signs. Still, I felt so bad to make him walk alone at six years of age! Granted, I watched him go and saw him cross just as I turned the car out onto the large road that we live behind, which he thankfully didn't have to cross. First Son was about a hundred meters behind him, stomping angrily toward school. When he was putting his boots on I gave him two snacks to put in his bag, and an extra one to eat quickly since he didn't have breakfast. But he left them there, so he was not only late, but he went to school with an empty stomach. I felt so deflated. Like a really bad mother.

Luckily, we made it to Daughter's school to drop her off just as the bell rang and the kids were getting in line, so she wasn't late. Alas, unfortunately, my troubles didn't end there. Next, I went to the bank to deposit a check that I had gotten for creating a course outline for an organization that offers on-line courses to adults. Driving towards the bank, I was pulled over by a cop! Argh! I was so distracted by the radio (an awful story about an American Soldier who had left his base in Afghanistan and snuck into several houses to open fire on the residents, killing many, including mostly children!) that I didn't realize I had entered a school zone. I thought I was still in a 50 zone, so I doing more than 30 km/h. I was doing 49, which is obviously an indication that I wasn't intentionally speeding since I wasn't even doing the 50 that I thought was permitted, but the fact remains that I didn't notice the sign. I was so upset I started crying. Honestly, how bad can life get?

I have been sick and unable to work full-time since October 2010. I was on full sick-leave for a long time, which means I was basically living off credit cards. The insurance payments were laughably low. When EI ran out I had to turn to the government for last-resort help. Needless to say, it was pretty hard living off 600 dollars a month. My rent alone is $600! In November of last year, I got a job offer for my dream job: to become a French Language Evaluator for the federal government. I had 62 thousand dollars a year dangling in front of me. I just had to pass a four-week training period and the job was mine. I was still pretty sick, very weak and generally pretty tired, but how could I pass up this opportunity? Financially, I couldn't afford to. So I kept my mouth shut about being on sick leave and went for it. I dove in full-time. Big mistake. I was so exhausted that I couldn't concentrate. The pressure was on, the stress was up, and I made too many mistakes. I didn't pass the training and ended up losing the job. I can't remember the last time I was so devastated. So now I am back trying to get some freelancing contracts like the one I am working on now. I was so happy to be getting a respectable paycheck, and now I have to go wasting part of it on a huge speeding fine.

So basically this day has me feeling pretty inadequate in all ways imaginable. I feel like a bad mom. I feel like I can't provide for my family, and now I am just plain afraid to drive. What if in my distraction I make an even more serious mistake? What if I hit a cat or worse, a child? I had planned to spend this morning working on the lesson plans to go with the course outline, which has thankfully been accepted. But I spent a good 45 minutes just sitting there in the car crying, not feeling up to even driving home, let alone detouring still toward the bank. I have until March 31st to submit the four Modules of the course I have to create, and I just don't feel up to working on it. My mind's a mess. This is definitely one of those times when the rollercoaster of life is letting me down. I am plummeting.

Magic

Yesterday when I picked him up, my six-year-old son's first words were, "I saw a real princess today!" That of course made me smile. I get such a kick out of him and his view of the world! Often, when he is watching a DVD, he will turn to me and very seriously say, "That can't happen. They did that with a computer just for the film." This is usually at the scarier parts, so I recognize that he is reassuring himself. But otherwise, he is perfectly willing to believe what he sees. Like yesterday, when they were taken to see a play, he saw a real princess.

I think it is so important for children to believe in magic, the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and, in my family's case, God. It is a real challenge every year to get the Christmas tree up and the presents under it without the children realizing that it was all my doing. (My daughter has caught on, but she has agreed to keep the magic alive for her two little brothers.) Our tradition holds that it isn't Santa who brings the presents. It is the Baby Jesus who brings them as symbols of his gift of Love. (Saint Nicholas comes a little earlier, on December 6th, to put chocolates and oranges in their boots.)

Nowadays, when children have questions, such as about where babies come from, we tend to pull a book off the shelf and explain human anatomy to them, so that we are honest with them, as modern parents should be. I don't quite agree with this. I think there is great value in believing in miracles. Children are happy to get a toonie for their teeth, or to clean their boots and put them in the window for Saint Nicholas. It is a way for them to keep the wonder about the world that increasingly is too informative and makes them grow up too soon.

Don't get me wrong. I am all about explaining photosynthesis to children when we are hiking in the woods. I explain about not picking the wildflowers in a park because they are protected. I talk to them about not littering, about pollution and conservation. But I know they also get a kick out of pretending that the trees that grow in perfect rows are bewitched soldiers, of that elves live in the hollows of trees. It develops their imagination to play this way, and it also helps them be brave, and to move into situations where they might imagine that it would be scary, but they move forward nonetheless. My daughter was afraid of the Easter Bunny for years. She would come get me before going out into the living room to see if there was an Easter basket there for her. I would accompany her and, over the years, she eventually started walking in front of me instead of behind. Finally, she was able to go look on her own. I can see this self-assurance in her today, and wonder if it isn't thanks to the Easter Bunny. :o)

Recipe for Happiness

I played hooky yesterday. I admit it. I was so engrossed in the book I was reading I just didn't think I could put it down without first finishing it. In the end, I fell asleep before the end and I didn't get to blog.

I don't feel a bit guilty because I know how important it is to have a balanced life. I'm not saying mine is perfectly balanced, but that is what I strive for. I like to read. Make that LOVE to read. It is my passion, and part of the secret recipe for happiness is that you have to have something to be passionate about. It can be anything. Some people are passionate about art, insects or cake. For some it is a lifelong passion. Others jump from one thing to another. Some people concentrate all their energies on one specific thing. Others are busy with all sorts of interests. It doesn't matter. What counts is that you have something to be passionate about, something to get you off the couch and out the door, or at least out of bed. Something you want to pursue. Motivation to live.

I am the kind of person to jump from one thing to another. I have been into a lot of things from scuba diving to scrapbooking to yoga. I do also have interests that have been pretty constant since childhood. I am passionate about my children, and I always have loved children. I waited 23 years just to get pregnant. I couldn't wait! I am also passionate about animals. I believe we were put on this earth to take care of them, both the wild and the domestic. I have an affectionate cat who sleeps with me and a cute bunny to entertain me by wiggling his little white nose. :o)

Music is also a passion of mine, especially live music, and I have had the same favorite band, Blue Rodeo, since grade six. I remember when I was young, we were constantly singing in the car. Our parents, especially our dad, taught us so many Hungarian folk songs, and when we came to Canada we would sing along with Bryan Adams on the radio, even though we didn't understand a word of the lyrics. I wish I could make music but I can't even sing well. The only thing musical about me are my ears.

Another thing that I have always loved is writing, hence the blog. :o) It goes hand-in-hand with reading and I do a lot of that. I always have. I remember lying on my bed in grade one, before we came to Canada, reading Little House in the Big Woods in Hungarian. A chapter book in grade one! Later, when I FINALLY got my own room in grade six, I would pick a book and read 'till all hours of the night, and complain if someone woke me up before noon. Actually, I think I did that even before I got my own room, when I shared with my sister. I remember we had a bunk bed... but now I am getting sidetracked!

Last night I must have read until eleven or so, but at that point I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I called it a day. With three children, I can't afford to stay up all night reading because I do have to be functional in the morning to get everyone out the door in time. But I do read, in moderate amounts, and I enjoy it immensely. I am surprised (and disappointed, to tell the truth) that my daughter says she doesn't like reading. She does read, though. She takes so many books out of the library, but she says it is the subjects that interest her, not the reading. She is into very strange subjects too, like 9/11 and the Titanic. She also reads a lot about Islam, go figure.

I do try to read in front of my children, to be a good model. Unfortunately, that often backfires because it is perceived as being selfish and ignoring the children. That saddens me. I do so look forward to the day when we can all sit on a dock by a quiet lake and read together. We'll see... In the meantime, my boys do appreciate it when I read to them at bedtime, so that's something.

But this post isn't about parenting skills. It is about having something to be passionate about. Something to inspire you, something to pursue. I truly believe that for a person to be happy, they have to have things that interest them. So think about it. What are you passionate about?

Juggling is Much Easier If the Balls Bounce Themselves

I am a juggler in the figurative sense. I have three kids. I try to juggle my time so that they each get what they need from me. Being a single mom, I won't pretend that I am good at it, or that all three of my  children are super well balanced. It does seem that whenever there is an issue with one of them, just as I think I have things under control, something happens with a sibling and of course I don't want any of them to fall on the floor so I find myself scrambling again. Tonight was an exception.

This week is March Break for the kids. The boys both begged me over a month ago to sign them up for a certain day camp, which I was only happy to do because it coincidentally was one of the cheaper ones at only ten dollars a day. They were really looking forward to going and I am happy to report that they had a great day. I stayed at home with my eleven-year-old daughter so we could have some time alone without the boys demanding my attention. (Usually the demand comes in the form of a fight between them and I end up wondering if I should just let them go at it and settle things once and for all, but of course good judgement prevails and I have to separate them and then we talk about it. Hopefully. Sometimes the boys refuse to talk, and especially to hear, so the discussion is better left for later.) Back to today: we had a pretty simple day that just flew by. We went to the library, did groceries, made meatballs... I think our major achievement was cleaning Daughter's desk out. There were workbooks in there from grade two!

At four o'clock we went to get the boys from daycamp. My second son, who is six, has a history of not adjusting too well to changes, so I was especially interested in how his day went and how he felt. Luckily, he is bigger now (older and wiser than last summer and especially the summer before, when he was sent home for fighting) and he had a great day. I did give him a lot of attention, though, just to be 100% sure nothing bad happened, like someone wouldn't leave him alone and he hit them or something. (It has been known to happen...) Daughter was okay with me asking Second Son about his day and when we got home she disappeared to her room for a little alone time... with her computer... that's a whole other can of worms...

So we had a nice evening. Daughter went upstairs, I took Second Son outside to play. First Son was forbidden to come because he refused to put snow-pants on. Supper went pretty well. We were all at the table which is a definite victory. Then we played some Rush Hour with the boys and they showered and went to bed.

So I was in bed reading before going to sleep and who should be standing beside my bed but Second Son, saying he can't sleep and asking if he can sit with me a while and tell me about his day. He was very smooth in expressing this, by the way. I was thoroughly impressed. So of course I said yes and he proceeded to sit on my bed cross-legged and tell me about his day. Every detail of his day, with especial attention being paid to how the soccer ball bounced when he kicked it so that it somehow finally found its way into the goal and how everyone wanted him on his team because he is the best. :D I permit myself a small chuckle here because of course I had to keep a straight face and look impressed during this. First Son has VERY GOOD self-esteem. :o)

So the lesson I learned today, and this time it thankfully wasn't a painful one, (and I can't believe it took me six paragraphs to get to this point!) is that just when you lean back and think everything is just peachy and you deserve a little something, THAT is when you should first take a moment and think WHY everything seems peachy and THEN make sure that the jam is spread evenly among however many children you may have. 'Cause I thought I had a pretty good day with Daughter and I was relieved that Second Son seemed to settle well into daycamp for the week, but poor (patient!) First Son waited and waited for me to ask him about his day and when he realized I was showing off juggling with only two balls, he took the initiative and quickly threw himself into the routine before I left the stage. So remember, parents: Vigilance! Constant vigilance! (Watch yourselves!)

Am I Crazy or Was That Fun?

In an effort to get myself out of debt and my tush off the couch, I have decided to try to get into even deeper debt. (This may be one of those confusing Willy Wonka "backwards is forwards" moments for you, Mrs. Gloop!) I applied to go to university. I want to become a translator. As a step towards fulfilling that dream, I wrote an entrance exam today at the Université du Québec en Outaouais.

It was so much fun! I know: I'm nuts, but I found writing a minimum 250-word opinion and translating a 300-word text from English to French to be a blast! Granted, I was pretty relaxed about it. The UQO diploma takes three years, whereas the one at the University of Ottawa only takes two. Given the choice, I would much rather do my Bachelor at U of O so this test didn't really phase me. It actually made me look forward to the next one, which will be on March 24th. (That's a Saturday. I must remember to confirm with my sitter.)

It was a big decision to go back to school and right now it is still pretty daunting. I have so much debt already, but I have faith that with a diploma in translation I can get a good job that pays well and that I like. That last bit is very important, since I have lost interest in what I have been doing, which is working in the French as a Second Language trade of teaching federal public servants French. As much as I loved all our students - I really did meet some amazingly intelligent and nice people - the conditions suck.

Ten years ago, I earned 21 dollars an hour teaching a group of about six students. Today, there are schools hiring experienced teachers for fifteen. It's really an insult, but the schools can do it because they know full well that the market is saturated. There are more teachers than students to teach.

I'm not the only one who wants to get out. I would need extra fingers and toes to count the number of my teachers who have asked me for reference letters. (I have climbed the ranks to Teaching Advisor.) I don't blame them. Pretty nearly everyone working in a private school in the Ottawa area wants to get into the government. Most of my teachers are paid hourly through contracts, meaning they have to put money aside for taxes at the end of the year and, most importantly, meaning that they have no benefits. No sick days, no Employment Insurance if they lose their position. A lucky few have landed dream jobs as French as a Second Language teachers directly for federal governmental departments. They have become casual and in some cases term public employees. But all that is about to end. The government announced that all the teaching positions are getting the ax as part of its cuts as of March 31st. Which means more teachers looking for jobs in private schools. Good for the schools. Bad for the teachers.

Another reason I wanted to change fields is because I really didn't like my job any more. It got really tedious fighting with upper management for teachers' rights, fighting with teachers for them to respect deadlines and protocols and for students' rights (like the right to have a teacher IN the classroom   instead of on their way to work at the time class is scheduled to start.) Then there is "fighting" with students. (I put that in quotes because they aren't "students", but "clients" and I have to keep them "happy.") I "fought" with students who did't show up on time, disrupting class when they arrived and noisily got settled 30 minutes late every day. I "fought" with students who didn't want or need to be bilingual and who made no effort whatsoever to learn French, because their boss was going to reclassify their position as unilingual English if they didn't get their B's. Etc. Etc.

I have discovered through volunteering that I LIKE translating and I think that is the key factor in my future success. I have friends and acquaintances who are translators both in the public and private sectors and they all tell me the same thing: conditions are good. So I have decided I will do what I like and be recognized (i.e. receive a fair salary) for it. I know you can't get anywhere unless you know where you want to go. Where I want to go is a place where I have financial security and I can give my children the things they need and deserve. Starting with hot meals every night.

I'm looking forward to getting the results. In the meantime, I am looking forward to my weekend. You all have a good one! :o)

Sarcasm (a.k.a. I Am an Imperfect Being)

Yesterday while driving around doing errands, I was pretty excited about this blog. It occurred to me that it could be a good platform to do some good in the world. I consider myself a generous person, and lately I have been frustrated not to be able to help in certain circumstances, as I have no money, no time, no energy. Rosy little post this is turning out to be... So, getting back on track: today I want to share an eye-opening experience that has hopefully made me a better person and parent. Perhaps someone else could also profit from my mistakes.

First Son, my eight year-old, has been having trouble at school. He has brought home two reprimands in the last two weeks. Not good. This past Monday, the note said that he didn't listen and that he talked back.  As we talked about what happened, he explained: they were in line and the gym teacher's rule is no talking. First Son's friend in front of him, J., was talking to him, and he apparently asked him not to do so. (I am taking First Son's word on this. I could see it being the case.) So, as he is asking J. not to talk to him, the gym teacher reminds him, "Hey, no talking," to which First Son replies, "I know." As he is relating this to me, the "I know" comes out quite sarcastically, accompanied by a rolling of the eyes. Mystery solved. Not as in, that's why he got the reprimand, but as in, "Ooops! This is the kind of model I am!"

I will be the first to admit that I have been feeling very tense lately and I have a very short fuse. Add to that three kids who, at the end of the day, are unable to get up from the supper table to get their own milk, and sarcasm rears its ugly head. This is exactly what happened with First Son. At supper last week, I heard the words, "Mom, milk." I didn't reply as I was extremely insulted by the request and the way in which it was made. Not getting the message, First son repeated his request, and when he still got no reaction, he said, "Mom, I would like some milk," to which I replied, "Really? Me too." *insert rolleyes here* I then calmly explained to him that I was not a dog who was going to fetch him things, and that I was as tired as he was, could he please get his own milk, or at least ask nicely? But the damage was done.

When First Son was telling me about why he got the reprimand, I could see myself mirrored in the way he was talking. So I pulled out my humility card and apologized to him for being so sarcastic with him lately, and we had a talk about how he had spoken to his gym teacher. Having gotten some things clear, I still would not let him off the hook for the consequence to his actions at school. Even though I feel partly responsible, ultimately First Son must understand that he should be respectful to someone when talking to them. So he did get punished. Nobody said life was fair.

The moral of this story is that we really do have to watch how we act with and around our children. I think I have cleared things up with First Son, but I still wonder how deeply this sarcasm is embedded in his personality now. And can I keep to my promise not to be so cross and sarcastic? I really hope so! I mean, nothing has changed in my situation and I am as tired and grumpy as ever, but now that I am (painfully) aware of the consequences of my own behavior, hopefully I can keep an eye on myself. We'll see...