Archive for Kidstuff

Just when you least expect it your 6 yr old asks you what “fucking” means….

In case you couldn’t tell from the title of this post, there’s a lot of profanity below.   Move along if you’re offended by this. 

Picture, if you will, an ordinary Wednesday afternoon.  It’s ordinary except there’s theme music from the Twilight Zone playing and the main characters can’t hear it.  You’ve just picked up your 6 year old son from school, returned home to gather hockey equipment and snacks for the kids and as you’re loading all of this stuff into the back of your van, your 6 year old son and 3 year old daughter climb into your van.  And then you hear it…”Mommy, what does fucking mean?”  Read the rest of this entry »


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Giving children the freedom they need to act their age.

I’ll admit it.  Thor and I work hard to provide our children with the opportunity to just be children.  We do this through a variety of means.  We monitor the recommended ages for toys.  We’re not nuts about setting limits but if a toy is recommended for children ages 8+, chances are, it’s not appropriate for our 6 year old (educational toys can be an exception to this; toys that only promote fighting – definitely not).  I visit Common Sense Media to pre-screen movies and some tv shows.  We don’t strictly abide by the ratings provided – we consider our children’s personality and maturity when making these decisions.  The results of all of this limit-setting?  Our 6 year old knows how to play Crazy 8s and checkers but doesn’t know how to use a Gameboy.   Our 3 year old won’t be going to see Happy Feet.  Her 3 year old friend did.  She was so scared by the sea lion scene, she cried and demanded to go home.  Her mom (for various reasons that can only be explained by a need to put other people’s needs above her and her family’s needs) refused to take her home and now if you ask the child if she liked the movie, she cries.  Ah, but I digress.  Back to the idea of children being children… Read the rest of this entry »

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Apparently, Grade 1 is traumatic. Preschool? Not so much.

I’ve spent enough time in the school over the past week that the staff are beginning to know me by sight.  Part of the time that I’ve been there has been for volunteer purposes.  The other times?  For my son.  Apparently the transition into Grade 1 is not as smooth as I thought it would be .  We surpassed the “what to do for lunch dilemma” by choosing to have Thor Jr come home for lunch on Fridays.  All was well.  The worst, and hopefully last incident was earlier this week when I received a phone call.  Thor Jr. was extremely upset.  He had been crying steadily since recess.  By my watch that meant 45 minutes.  His only answer to “What’s wrong?” was “I miss my Mom”.  This has never happened before.  I went to see him at school.  Sure enough, he missed me.  Or so he says.  I suspect that when he’s 18, something will remind him of this day and he will burst forth with an explanation that we never would have figured out.  If he does that, that’s okay.  It’s genetic.  When I went to Kindergarten for the first day, I was terrified.  My teacher was all dressed in white.  I thought it was the dentist’s office and was scared shitless.  I was unable to convey this to my mother though, until I was about 18.  Suddenly my first day of Kindergarten hysterics made complete sense to her.  And so with this in mind, I understand that sometimes, children are unable to communicate their complete thoughts at the age of 5 or 6.  After many hugs, softly spoken words and a mail key to remind him of me (it was either that or my sock – I had left everything except my keys and cellphone at home), Thor Jr. was calm enough to return to class for the day.

Contrast this with Little Athena.  We went for a play date today and as we were leaving the house, she asked if I was staying at the play date or if I was volunteering at the school.  I said I was staying.  She asked me not to.  She asked me to please go and volunteer at the school and said she didn’t want me to go to the play date.  Did I mention she’s 3? Apparently preschool is not nearly as traumatic as Grade 1.  Who knew?

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Hockey Mom vs. Soccer Mom Part 2

Hockey tonight.  Let’s see if I’ve got everything:

Shoulder pads? Check!
Knee/shin pads? Check!
Elbow pads? Check!
Jock strap and cup? Check!
Garters? Check!
Socks? Check!
Skates? Check!
Stick? Check!
Neck guard? Check!
Mouth guard? Check!
Helmet? Check!
Jersey? Check!
Hockey pants? Check!
Gloves? Check!
Bag to carry everything in? Check!
Extra t-shirt/socks/underwear to change into afterwords? Check, check and check!
Towel to dry off sweaty kid afterwords? Check!
Cloth to wipe down skate blades afterwords? Check!
Water bottle? Check!
Water bottle for daughter who will inevitably want a drink? Check!
Entertainment for daughter? Check!

Hmmmmm……sounds like a crapload of stuff.

Soccer mom – what do you pack for a soccer game?

Shin guards? Check!
Cleats? Check!
Uniform? Check!
Soccer ball? Check!
Water bottle? Check!
Water bottle for daughter, husband and myself? Check, check, check!
Lawn chairs? Check!
Sun umbrella? Check!
Coaches bag (if I’m coaching)? Check!
and sometimes snack if it’s our turn to bring it. Check!

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Hockey Mom vs. Soccer Mom

Thor Jr. started Hockey this week.  He’s not in a league (Tangent: do you have any idea how much it costs to register your kid in hockey?  $500!  Holy hockey sticks batmom! And that doesn’t include equipment! /tangent), but we’ve signed him up for something called Tot Hockey which is supposed to teach him the fundamentals of hockey.  Then, next year we’ll bite the cash bullet and register him with the local league.

Thor Jr. had his first class this week.  It was my first experience with hockey equipment.  Specifically, strapping a 6 year old into all this equipment.  In a limited timeframe.  It took us 20+ minutes to get him undressed and then geared up.  Shoulder pads, shin pads, elbow pads, jock/cup, garters, pants, socks, skates, helmet – oh my!  And don’t forget the jersey!  It was at this point that I decided it was a heck of a lot easier to be a soccer mom than to be a hockey mom.  He did look great though!  And he stepped out on to the ice without a problem.  It’s been a few months since he’s been on skates so I wasn’t sure if he’d land on his butt within the first 2 strides or not.  He thoroughly enjoyed the session and can’t wait to go back next week.

Which brings us back to the equipment-strapping-in again.  And the fact that it’s easier to be a soccer mom and carry around a bag of soccer balls and pylons then it is to strap garters onto hockey socks.  Wait a sec – before you hit that comment button and inform me about the new jocks that have velcro to hook up hockey socks, yeah, we know about those.  But Thor thought we should go with the garters.  Too bad Thor isn’t there to strap Thor Jr into everything!  Next year (or 2 sessions from now, depending on how long I last with this) we’ll get him the jock/velcro/sock combo.  Of course, with all of this equipment comes a mother-honkin’-sized bag.  It’s the same size as the team bag for soccer.  Hats off to you Hockey Moms!   I don’t know how you do it. 

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Talking to your children about sex – specifically….Periods.

I mentioned here that my children don’t really ask questions about sex/body science.  That’s okay.  It does however, make it a challenge for me to broach the subject.  Imagine then, my delight when my son asked what the machine on the wall of the ladies bathroom was!  I should clarify that we were in the ladies bathroom because my 3 yo daughter had to pee and I can’t leave my 6 yo alone.  Rather than get into the tampon/pad machine explanation right there and then, I asked if I could explain it to him when we got in the van.  He agreed.

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A Day Out With Thomas…or Not

Big trip planned today!  A Day Out with Thomas the Tank Engine.  Seriously.  Great pics here.

I should have just crawled back into bed today instead of even trying to have this big trip.  Alas, the tix were purchased weeks ago and so, here are the highlights…lowlights??

– 3 yr old wakes up.  Loves Thomas.  Refuses to wear Thomas tshirt but doesn’t just say no.  Says NO!!! with full out crying.  That’s a craptastic wake-up if I’ve ever seen one. Read the rest of this entry »

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