2016: The Year of Growth

This is perhaps the last post of this year.

Here is the best moment of 2016:

ASid, the 15 year old enigmatic teenager, totally stood by his mom and supported her friendship, with a man, that went against normal conventions and convictions. The trust he had in his mom gave her strength to form a bond that made her happy. Through his actions and words, ASid elevated his relationship with his mom to another level! He has become a friend as well.
 

I hope, one day, Hans gets to that level. With a brother like ASid, I am sure he will. Thank you boys for another amazing ride!

With 5 more days to go, I am looking forward to reconnecting with a friend I haven’t seen in 21 years. She is one of my 4 friends whom I last saw in 1995. The other 3 are waiting to see pictures of this epic reunion. For sure, it will make it to the top 2 moments of 2016!

So, this year has been about discovering, revisiting and renewing friendships. I wish to reiterate what I wrote a few posts ago about my friends; nothing has changed.

Thank you to all my friends. You know who you are!

After the doom and gloom...

Looking back on the last few posts, it appears like there was too much raging and lecturing; so switching gears here...

I can't believe I forgot to mention that Hans started playing Hockey this Fall/Winter! At the beginning, the idea was a nightmare for me. Hans is preparing for his crazy audition and Craigley adds another task to his list of things to do in a week - a game every Saturday and practice every other Sunday! What?! Was Craigley trying to sabotage my efforts as well as Hans' to get into The CW?!

My parents felt like it was war zone in our home. Momley vs Craigley. The Arts vs Hockey. They dropped by one day and left rather quickly as Craigley started talking Hockey and I got sarcastic! The grandparents rightfully felt that their poor grandchild was being pulled in 2 directions by 2 parents who aren't on the same page.

Thank God for grandparents!

Craigley and I had a face off and we decided to go forward with Hockey and see how it affects Hans' schedule. As of now, it has been 2 months. It hasn't really affected Hans' schedule; but it has totally affected mine! I am the one who is waking up at an unholy hour and getting Hans ready for a 7 am game on a Saturday or a 7 am practice on Sunday. I am also making sure Craigley is awake and caffeinated enough to perform his head coach duties. How did this come about?!

I may never play Hockey or even understand the game, but I believe I am on my way to being called a "Hockey Mom"! And I may actually enjoy that title...after all the protesting on my part. As Craigley's signature states and I'd like to restate here, “Hockey, the greatest game on earth and I am Canadian!" It used to sound like a beer commercial before; now I understand!

Go Hans Go!

 

A(n) (rumoured) affair and A(n) (untimely) death

Just got back from a funeral service…

A 7 year old child is motherless now. A father looked lost. Life is short. There is definitely no good time to die!

So, live, we must!

For the last couple of weeks, life has been crazy with Hans' and Craigley's insecurities about Momley and Greek God. To top it off, someone at Hans' school actually started a rumour that Momley and Greek God are having an affair. It was funny and tragic on many levels. Funny as in Momley is a dowdy stay-at-home type who is too busy with too many things to have an affair because that would add to her responsibilities! Tragic as in kids are involved on both sides. Why would anyone spread such a rumour?!

After a stressful couple of weeks, here are my thoughts. A funeral service always puts things in perspective.

Life is indeed short. Be with people who make us happy. Greek God has become a good friend; unfortunately, he is of the opposite gender. We are in the 21st century and there are still some of us who can speculate a friendship based on gender stereotypes. Ignore and move on.

Note: I feel like I should go into rage mode like my dad did many years ago and go beat up someone! But I am in a sad mode. What can I say?! Even adults are confused sometimes. However, life is short. I must enjoy it while I can and while I am at it, ignore I will and move on!
 

Chivalry is not dead; just afraid or hiding!

I make it a point to have at least one meal together as a family. This almost always ends up being dinner time. Most days, conversations around this time are about how everyone's day was. Sometimes, a certain someone (let us say a teenager) monopolizes all the time and then there is a little someone who is left with his hand up in the air. It is kinda cute and frustrating at the same time. Since the teenager rarely shares anything; so anything from him is like little treasures of information about his life...even when he shares a joke posted by a classmate on Facebook! That tells us a little bit about the quality of the sense of humour he is developing or not developing. All in all, both the boys get to have their say. And the big boy gets to say a bit as well.

Recently, the conversation revolved around protecting Momley and her honour. For some reason, at least 2 out of 3 boys, can't seem to get over the Greek God episode! So, I decided to do an intervention with a couple of stories from 2 generations.

Here is the first story:

My dad always talks about my mom as the "cutest girl on his street"; I totally admire the lack of exaggeration in that statement! It is one of the most sincere sentences of admiration I have heard in my lifetime. The story is about how they were at the movies one evening and someone tried to touch my mom from the back. Apparently, she complained to my dad and he went into serious rage mode. He pretty much beat up the guy who dared touch my mom!

At this point in time, the boys were like “Wow! We can't believe grandpa was so violent! So cool!"

Craigley pipes in with "I could beat up Greek God you know!"

It was time to narrate the second story:

Fast forward to a quarter of a century and a few months  later. Craigley and Momley were on the TTC. Craigley reaches out to hold Momley's hand, and has a big smile on his face. Momley politely asks him to let go off her hand. He does not and she gets into a struggle to release her hand. At which point, Craigley exclaims in exasperation, "You are my wife for crying out loud!”. Momley answers that one with "Your wife who doesn't want her hand held right now! Now, let go!"

The teenager was definitely enjoying this narration. Craigley was waiting for the point to it all.

Here is the point. Please don't try to rescue a girl who is in no real danger. Please don't talk about beating people up especially when it is totally unwarranted. Please don't hold a girl's hand if she doesn't want it. Be a man. Be secure. Be there when the girl in your life needs you. Some of us girls love chivalry; just time it well guys! Make it count.

Note: I rarely go into "lecture mode”; but definitely enjoy it once in a while. This was one of those rare times. Hopefully, the boys remember this conversation for the rest of their lives.

 

My Child vs Someone Else's Child

Since October 2015, Hans has had a crazy schedule. By March 2016, it settled into 2 hours each on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. The schedule covers 2 piano lessons, a vocal/drama lesson, a dance lesson and a visual arts class. Hans is auditioning to get into an arts school (that shall from now on be referred to as The CW); so, the numerous lessons!

Hans' crazy schedule means 6 hours of waiting for me each week. Fridays is the easiest as I wait with my friend Y and we sometimes do groceries or do nothing; waiting is easy when there is company. Tuesdays and Saturdays are usually just sitting in a waiting room and waiting. It is not so bad as I get to see other parents and share some stress. During one of those waiting periods, I heard a parent talk about how expensive this English tutor is for his daughter; he felt that $50/hr for grade 5 is a bit much as he is already paying a lot for other lessons. I could relate and before I could control myself, the words came out, "I can teach your daughter for way less!" Why did I say that? I don't know!

Within a couple of weeks, I had 3 students. On Tuesdays, grade 1 reading and on Saturdays, grade 5 writing and ESL conversational! I don't care for the monetary aspect of these 3 hours; I simply enjoy helping these 3 students of mine. It is a nice symbiotic relationship.

Last Tuesday, for the first time, I had to question this set up. While I was gone for an hour and a half, Hans apparently had a "bad day" ; got a little distracted and disruptive and a mom got upset. I wasn't there to help. When I got back, I got feedback from both the dance and piano teachers about Hans. For the first time, they both stated that they weren't entirely sure of Hans' chances of getting in. Luckily, I didn't cry in front of them; but bawled my eyes out in the car! I told Craigley that I should focus on my own child and quit running around trying to help other children. If I can't help my own child succeed, what does it matter where else I succeed?!

Craigley had a point though; Hans is on his own in the auditions. He has to manage himself and he can't depend on reminders from his mother anymore. The auditions are in February; barely 2 months away.

Still, I let the teachers know that if I need to be there for my child, I will be there. The grade 1 student has an amazing mom who is providing her with the support that she needs. Currently, I am that support; but they can always find another support. As a teacher, I am dispensable; but not as a mother.

 

If Momley is a superhero...

Hans, as everyone knows, is obsessed with superheroes. For the most part, I enjoy his conversations about them. However, lately, I have been encouraging him to create his own superheroes. I was hoping for originality in his imagination. Most of the time I get "crossover" superheroes - like Ninjago meets DC/Marvel Universe. So, I keep challenging Hans to imagine better! One day, he turned it around and asked me to imagine myself as a superhero and come up with 2 powers. Unfortunately, I could come up with only one super power - healing hands! It is a little lame, however that appealed to my personality. Maybe I was just stretching the "helping hands" bit!

A few days later, Hans stopped bugging me about my other super power. As they say "life gets in the way" and it did. I was constantly on Hans' case for other things like piano practice, school homework, art work, etc. Sometimes the child tests my patience and I do raise my voice, and the standard response is "OK OK I will do it! Stop screaming!".

So, in Hans' usual style, he let me know what my other super power is! He told me that it is screaming; he is pretty sure any bad guy will run away rather than face my screaming! Do I sound that bad?!

Super powers or not, I think Momley is a superhero. Who else serves as an alarm for 3 boys (an adult, a teenager and a kid) and gets them ready for the day?! On that note, Hans has recently objected to my screaming his name from the kitchen to wake him up! He wants me to go up the stairs, in the middle of making breakfast and packing lunches, to gently whisper his name to wake him up! What alarm does that?! But Momley does!

So if Momley is a superhero, then most moms and dads are. We may not be able to define our super powers, but we sure can use them!
 

What a crush means...

Hans has used the word crush a few times and I did wonder if he understood what the word meant a couple of times; however, I never actually asked him about it!

Today, I finally did!

Hans had a secret to share. It was not his own. It belonged to my friend Y's younger son J2 who is 6 years old. Apparently, J2 has a crush on a girl in his class. It totally took me by surprise. I am not sure what J2 meant by that; however. I asked Hans what his understanding of it was?!

This is what he said, "It means he likes her and he wants to ..." At this point in time, Hans did double air quotes and finished the sentence with "smooch smooch" ! Then he proceeded to add this: "It is not like he wants to marry her!"

Wow! "smooch smooch"! I felt enlightened!

 

Greek God strikes again!

I have decided to call my "dad friend" Greek God! Why not? No regular guy can make most men in my life so insecure!

A few days ago, it was parent - teacher night at Hans' school. Craigley has a new job now and it was his first time in many days at Hans' school. As far as Craigley was concerned, I was just another parent at school. Well, I did say I was going to “hang up” my helping hands. So, to Craigley's surprise, this dad walks up to me and hands me an envelope! Craigley immediately reacted this way, "Hey Greek God, whatever it is you handed my wife, it is going into recycling as soon as we get home!" And I was like "Damn it Greek God!"

OK, those weren't exactly the words; but close!

I thought there ended the matter. However, on the way back home, Craigley mentioned that he gave Greek God a piece of his mind. I wasn't exactly thrilled and let Craigley know that I was simply helping with a movie night at school and Craigley was behaving like a jealous husband and he shouldn't have said anything to another parent on the school playground! I was really upset. Unfortunately, Hans heard all of it.

So, it was no surprise that Hans brings it up for discussion a week and a day later.

"I am worried about dad and you"

 "What do you mean?"

 "I am worried about your relationship"

 "Why?"

 "Did dad and Greek God really fight over you on the playground?"

 I tried not to laugh and responded calmly.

"Men fight over beautiful women. I don't think Greek God and your dad were fighting over me! You worry too much!"

 There was a momentary pause and Hans said, "But they can also fight over the nicest woman on the planet!"

 I didn't know what to say, so I said, "I am not the nicest woman on the planet!"

 "But you are! Are you mad at dad?"

 Why does this child think so much?

"Hans, my baby, I am not mad at dad and I am not going away with Greek God. Please stop worrying so much!"

 A few more reassuring words later, Hans finally fell asleep. However, I couldn't! How could I? I felt like Helen of Troy and decided to capture that moment forever, and started writing this post!

The next day morning, I shared the above conversation with ASid. Here is what he said:

I can't believe dad hasn't progressed in the last few months. I don't understand why Hans is wasting his time thinking nonsense. I'd rather think about the possibilities of Quantum Physics!

Wow! What a perspective! I guess I should stop feeling like Helen of Troy, and get on with it! Sigh!

 

Alas! The hoodie that was!

ASid did not ever care about appearances. Just the other day, he wore a size 12 pair of jeans instead of a size 14 he needed to wear. I don't even know where he found that old pair! I pointed that out to him and he brushed it off with "I don't care!". He looked a bit odd with his ankles exposed, but no one can say he wasn't warned about it! I am sure, if his friends are honest, they would have pointed that out to him as well.

On the other hand, Hans is very particular about his clothing. ‎Even for Halloween, he likes to search for that perfect costume that speaks to him. He likes to look good and he cares about appearances. There is this one hoodie he cares a bit too much about and this is a story about that hoodie. 

This hoodie is definitely one of a kind as in no one at school had this hoodie. It became synonymous with Hans. There were times he wore it every single day of a week. After 2 years of wearing that hoodie, I had to literally retire it. It was getting too small for Hans.

A couple of days ago, ‎my friend Y and I dropped off Hans and her older son J1 at their Art class and decided to go for a walk. Y's younger son J2 did not have a jacket on him. Since our home is closer to the Art class, we decided to go and get something that J2 could wear. As I was looking for appropriate clothing, I saw the infamous hoodie. It seemed like the perfect piece of clothing for J2 to wear and it also turned out to be a perfect fit!

We had a good walk and went back to get the older boys from the Art class. As soon as Hans saw us, he looked like he was going to cry. He insisted that he wanted to go home immediately. I insisted that we were early and that he should stay put for the next 10 minutes and wait for the class to finish. Art class has become a little stressful for me recently as Hans has become chatty and the teacher has complained about it quite a bit‎. I actually dread what I have to hear about at each pickup!

After 10 minutes, Hans comes back to me and this time the waterworks were on full force. I looked at his Art teacher with concern and she said Hans was very good that day. She had no complaints. So, I pulled Hans into an empty room and asked him to explain his tears. Through several sobs, he let me know that he couldn't stand someone else wearing his beloved hoodie!

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Hans couldn't wear this hoodie anymore; so what difference does it make?! He responded that he would like to preserve it for the next generation. The drama lasted a good 10 minutes and it seemed excessive to say the least. Finally, Hans did calm down. As we walked back home, my friend Y guessed that it had something to do with the hoodie! How predictable is Hans?!

I was a little embarrassed that my ‎child could be so petty. After all, it was just a hoodie - a hoodie that had seen good times and that didn't fit anymore. I even wondered why I have been chosen to deal with all the hoodie problems of the world. Tad exaggerated, but it felt like that!

I changed my mind later that day when Hans had to say something like the following before he went to bed:

I really didn't want to cry, but the tears just came out when I saw my hoodie. I am sorry for upsetting you.

When I heard that, I had to say to myself, "Damn it Jim! He is only 8 years old! He is not God and I am definitely no God!"

And here ends another hoodie tale.

Note: I thought I already posted a hoodie story; but apparently this is the first one!

 

Culture Torture!

All cultures are to be respected and revered, however most cultures have certain expectations or particular peculiarities that petrify most people within that culture! Such is one cultural occurrence that Hans is afraid of tremendously. Unfortunately the child has adorable cheeks; some would even call them the quintessential "chubby cheeks"! Now, here is the torture part. Whenever there is a family gathering at my parents' home and there are several ladies in attendance, they feel the urge to pinch Hans' cheeks - it is more like an attempt to stretch them! This is meant to be a sign of affection to show the child that s/he is adored by the person; however, the said person invariably comes across as a cheek(y) torturer!

Hans, being Hans, is very aware of where danger lurks. He mentioned a few times that if he ‎has to attend a gathering at my parents' home, he would make sure to cover his cheeks! Alas, even the best laid plans fail sometimes.

We were gathered at my brother's new home a couple of days ago. It was my sister-in-law's birthday. My parents and her parents were in attendance along with Sir B and us 4. ASid quickly latched on to UB aka Sir B, and was happy to carry on a monologue for the rest of the evening. God bless Sir B's soul! Hans tried to play with my nephew and his cousin RoV. RoV is only 2 and he was in his own happy zone. Finally, Hans settled himself in a chair to simply observe the people around him. That's when it happened. My brother's mother-in-law descended on him and, pinched‎ and stretched Hans' cheeks to her heart's content.

To be honest, I did not actually witness the scene‎; but I saw Hans run away and head to a part of the house where there was no one. I followed him there and found out what happened. I took it upon myself to let the lady know that Hans did not appreciate her gesture of affection. Fortunately, she wasn't too offended and in fact, apologized to Hans. Hans, however, was not exactly in a forgiving mood!

On the way back, Hans and I shared the incident with Craigley and ASid. All Craigley said was, "She pinched my cheeks too!" At that point in time, we all burst out laughing.

Sometimes, torture can be fun; especially when it is happening to someone else‎!

In spite of the above strange (and not so nice) note, I’d like to believe that culture torture can be diminished or perhaps even eliminated if there can be a peaceful protest ‎or a calm dialogue. There is always hope!

NOTE: A bit of a literary license has been used to coin the phrase "Culture Torture". I am sure the literary gods and the grammar police can both forgive me for once!

 

You are ruining my Planet!

The other day, Hans and I were walking to school and we saw a car idling on the other side of the street. We were on the sidewalk. Hans could see smoke coming out from behind the car. He wanted to know why!

I told Hans that the driver is idling. I also expressed a bit of frustration at how lovely the weather was and that I could perhaps understand if it had been a super cold day‎! I couldn't believe what came out of Hans' mouth. He called out rather loudly, "You stupid, dumb guy! You are destroying my planet!" Hans was ready to cross the street and give a piece of his mind to the driver.

I was just relieved that the windows weren't down and the driver didn't hear Hans' screaming (almost swearing) at him. It is unbelievable that an 8 year old could have such road rage! This was also a moment where I was confused whether to be proud of my child's determination to save his planet or whether to reprimand him for his inappropriate use of language.

I did both. I gently reminded Hans that he must be careful how he speaks, but that I understand and appreciate his concern for our planet.

 

Friendship+Love

Some people in my life doubt the existence of my friend Smoggy‎. They don't think he is real. But he is! For the boys, he is a legend! As with most legends, there are always stories to tell.

Here is a Smoggy story...more like a story in which Smoggy made a special appearance...and he is not even aware of ‎all these special appearances he makes in the lives of the boys!

The other day, we were in the car and Craigley was talking about when he was a young boy and was in the school choir. He mentioned how he wasn't a good singer and preferred to be at the very back of the group. Unfortunately, he would be dragged to the very front because of his height; but then he would be promptly sent back as soon as he was heard!

The boys had a good laugh and it could have ended there; however, Craigley mentioned Smoggy and his singing. The boys wouldn't give up till I shared that story!

Smoggy and I would work late hours often. For both of us, it was our first job and we were young. We did not mind putting in the long hours. ‎Sometimes Smoggy would whistle an old tune and we would work away merrily! One day, for whatever reason, Smoggy burst into a song. He actually sang for the first time ever in my presence. 

And what did I do? I said something like, "no wonder you whistle"!

And what did Smoggy do?‎ He enrolled himself in vocal lessons!

At this point in the story, ASid exclaimed, "He must have been in love with you mom!" I corrected him, "Not in love with me, but loves me for sure"!

‎When I look back, I am not sure if I ever apologized properly to Smoggy! But he never brought it up as an episode in our lives where I scarred him forever! In fact, he was very excited to share that the first song they sang in his vocal class was a song from my favourite movie! He gave me 3 guesses; I guessed "Do Re Mi", "My Favourite Things" and "The Sound of Music"! It was "Edelweiss"!

At this point in time, the boys were like "wow mom! How couldn't you guess that?"; Craigley was like "poor Smoggy!"; and I was like singing the song! It is always wonderful to recall memories from the past; moments spent with people I love. It is occasionally a teachable moment for me and a learning moment for the boys.

I hope the boys can one day meet Smoggy and hear the other side of the stories I share with them. Meanwhile, I hope they are never that harsh to a friend they love and I hope they have friends as loving and forgiving as mine.‎ 

 

One of those perfect moments!

As usual, ASid sprung it on me last minute and as per the norm of the day, I got a text message from school! He was volunteering at school in the evening and he needed some semi-formal clothing. It may not seem like such a big deal for most parents; however, this is a kid who only wears t-shirts and jeans! Each school year, we get him one pair of slacks and a dress shirt to go with it...just in case. Sometimes half way through the school year, those backup options are outgrown and there is a last minute rush to find appropriate substitutes.

It is not just clothing that is a concern, it is also scheduling. Hans may have a play date and instead of taking him to it, I would have to rush home to make sure ASid has everything he needs.

That's exactly what happened! Hans was super unhappy that he had to go home right after school. He wanted to stay back and play with his friends. I had to remind him that I am a mother of 2 boys and sometimes, I have to be there for his brother.

When we got home, ASid was already there. Usually, he is home an hour later. Sure his being home early showed a sense of responsibility, but it also got me wondering what he did with that extra hour every day! However, that's a discussion for another day. This particular day, this is what happened!

ASid looked at his younger brother and apologized to him. He let him know that he knows Hans would rather play at school than be home early. ASid also thanked me for being there for him even when he made a last minute request!

Wow! What a wonderful moment! 

And in related news, it turned out that ASid was the most overdressed kid at the volunteer event. He might have easily stayed back at school and managed instead of rushing home and rushing both his brother and mother as well so he could be appropriately dressed! 

Oh well, what can I say?! Sometimes all the trouble is worth something. I got one of them perfect moments out of it.

 

The Inner Voice

Recently, I saw a post about how a parent's voice could become a child's inner voice! The gist of it is that we need to be careful how we talk to our children since that could become their inner voice down the road.

I thought about it and I believe I agree with it. Here is why!

Craigley has been telling ASid, for about 2 years, that he cannot do anything well; to be fair, he means report cards and at one point in time, piano practice/exams. So, technically, Craigley believe(d/s) that ASid could not finish his RCM Grade 6 piano exam ‎and that ASid cannot bring home a decent report card. True ‎to Craigley's "predictions", ASid quit piano in his RCM Grade 6 preparation year and ASid has also been bringing home what Craigley calls mediocre report cards!

One might interject at this point in the narrative and ask about the other parent's voice!

‎I am the other parent and I keep insisting that I believe ASid could do anything. Perhaps my voice is not loud enough?! Perhaps I don't brainwash the boy enough?! Where has my voice gone? How come it seems like Craigley's voice has become ASid's inner voice?

So, I brought this up with ASid. He brushed it off by saying, "Don't worry Mom! My inner voice is your voice!" I basked in that reassurance for about 2.2 days.

Last night, ASid revealed that he has been having bad dreams about his report card. I looked at him and actually asked, "What happened to the child I am bringing up?"‎ He said, in a matter of fact tone, "He committed pseudocide!" Is that even a word? Apparently, it is a kind of suicide! You don't really kill yourself, but you kill something within yourself. I objected and said that he might as well have killed me as he did kill that part of himself being raised by me!

I know this sounds like too much melodrama between a teen boy and a forty something mom. However, I cannot believe that my voice has died silently without a fight. My own inner voice refuses to believe that either! So, what's the plan? I am going to get loud and make sure my voice goes down those teen ears and stays in there.

Luckily, just yesterday, ‎I was reminded of a song from about 20 years ago - Chumbawamba's "Tubthumping". I think I am gonna sing it loudly everyday till it becomes ASid's inner voice.

Note: Parents, I will only be singing the refrain over and over again. No alcohol will be consumed or will be encouraged to consume!

Post Note: I looked up “pseudocide” and it actually means “faking one’s own death”! The things I learn with a teen! Well, ASid was in French Immersion for a good 8 and half years. I will excuse his understanding of the English language and/or its usage! At least, I had the good sense to look up the word. Now I know and I have a few more words to drive into the teen’s ears!

 

Dying in a dream

This morning, Hans showed up at the kitchen table on his own. I did not have to wake him up! While I was rejoicing this fact, I couldn't help but notice that Hans looked like he was ready to cry! When I asked him why he looked like that, he burst into tears. Then he started talking and I didn't understand anything. I ran off to get him some tissues and after he calmed down a little bit, he let me know that he had a bad dream.

...he met some sea lions and then he fell off into water and then he tried to swim and couldn't reach a rock and then he died...

And then he cried some more. So, I told him that it is only a dream and it didn't really happen. He is still alive. But Hans always needs an explanation; simplistic reassurances don't work with this child.

I decided to share my own dream experience where I died. Just like Hans, I woke up feeling worried and‎ scared. I actually pondered on the real possibility of me dying and all the work that I would leave incomplete if that happened. What would happen to the boys then?!

I actually shared that with Hans and as I did, I started crying too! But I had to ‎stop and gather myself. I let Hans know that I searched on Google for dream interpretation websites. From reading on a few of them, I found out that death in a dream means wanting to be a better person in real life. We are letting go of who we were and moving towards who we could be! As a concrete example, I asked him to look at himself. Every day, I have to wake him up and today, he woke on his own. On the same lines, yesterday, he did his homework by himself. I told him that he is becoming a better boy than he was and in my eyes, he has always been an awesome boy!

I think that helped him cope with his terrible dream. I was still concerned and gave him the option of staying home. He declined my very generous offer and decided to go to school!

Wow! That dream interpretation stuff is quite accurate or it is a crazy cool coincidence! Before I over thought that, I had to remind myself to just enjoy the moment...And I have been doing just that since this morning!

 

My Friend KPF - the origin story

This is not a story about how my friend is a superhero or how I gained super powers‎. This is a story about friendship and how it all began.

KPF, Craigley and I went to the same postgraduate school. I noticed Craigley right away as he hurled an insulting comment at me even when I didn't directly seek his assistance in any way. I did not really like the guy! On the other hand, it took a while to notice KPF as he was perhaps the quietest guy and he helped everyone quietly without seeking any credit. 

When I started at the school, I was getting over my one and only relationship that fell apart over 6 months ago; however, I was still hurting. ‎Since it was an IT school, there were very few girls - a ratio of 1:5! It was almost therapeutic to be in a place where there was overwhelming male attention; especially for a girl who was dumped for not being a looker! I believe I flirted outrageously with every guy who showed an interest; it was just that and nothing serious.

The one guy who showed absolutely no interest in me was KPF (amongst the single and available lot). However, if we had a project to work on, he would be there to help me or anyone else for that matter. This caring ‎attitude set him apart. He was a guy who didn't put on a show. He just was!

One day, it just so happened that the class finished and everyone left rather quickly. I continued to work on something; it was super quiet till I heard a cough. So, I figured there was someone else in the classroom with me. I heard the coughing some more as I continued to work. A few minutes later, I wrapped up and as I was about to leave, I looked to see who the other person was. It was KPF. He looked up and smiled. I smiled back and turned to leave, and for whatever reason, I changed my mind and walked back into the classroom.

"Why were you coughing so much?"

"Cystic Fibrosis."

"OK. Bye."

I didn't know what that meant. I quickly found a computer and looked it up. It was 1998. Google wasn't there and Yahoo was all the rage. I got my answer. It was a lot of information, but the bottom line was that a person with CF rarely lived to be 40. I was almost 24 then and I figured KPF was around the same age.‎ About 15 more years of Life! Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I think I cried on the sidewalk, on the subway and on the bus, and didn't stop till I got home.

I thought about my ‎breakup and how much undue importance I had given it. I wasted a whole lot of time dwelling on it when life is so short. Life should be spent with the people who are in my life and who want to be in my life. Life should also be spent with people I want in my life. I decided there and then that I wanted KPF in my life...whether he likes it or not!

And it has been that way since then...I am always pushing for KPF to visit me or I show up where he is and demand that he spend time with me; I keep sending him‎ pieces of my writing and links to this blog! Whether he has time or not; and whether he likes it or not...he is always there for me! My friend KPF!

So, it was ‎astonishing to receive a note from him a couple of months ago that stated that he has CF and that it should be regarded with very little concern. I was like Dude! I have known it for over 18 years! What is the meaning of this?! Such is our friendship - He said it once and I heard it once, and it was really of insignificant importance. The moments we spent together that have become memories that will last forever are what matter the most.

I remember particularly the Winterlude in 1999 when I needed to find myself and went to see KPF in Ottawa. As I stood with KPF in what seemed like the middle of nowhere; silence surrounded us and snowflakes started falling all around. There was an eerie beauty in that moment. I found strength and purpose, and found myself! I think I dragged KPF all around Ottawa with me in that crazy cold. And I don’t even like the cold! But I did and If not for that, I wouldn't have taken a chance with a man I disliked from the first moment I met him. Because I did, I have ASid and Hans…the best gifts in my Life!

5 days ago was KPF's 43rd birthday. He was in Portugal that day. Here is wishing him 43 more and many trips around the world!

Happy birthday my friend! Thank you!

Addendum:

Upon reflection, this post portrays me as some sort of a stalker who married the man she hates! I hope it ain't so! The post is meant to be an example for the boys ‎that they should give people in their lives a second chance and hopefully, they get a second chance as well. First impressions are just that; we have to dig deeper to get to know people. We have to ask questions and listen...if not, we may miss an opportunity of a lifetime. Now, that would be a tragedy.

 

First Flight

Hans was 8 years, 2 months and 8 days old when he boarded the airplane to Vancouver en route to Disneyland California. His first flight ever and he was super excited and scared ("You know how it is!” he casually remarked.)!

Then he went onto say the following:

How does one go to toilet on a plane? Does the seat flip? Maybe that's not good as everyone can see you! It is not bad if you can have metal barriers pop up when the seat flips so other people can't see you.

Of course! He soon discovered the on flight lavatories. ‎All the grandiose visions he had were shattered quite quickly. His ears hurt and he didn't like that very much. The food had to be bought and it wasn't even mediocre. I felt bad for him!

I remembered my first flight. It was under very unfortunate circumstances. My paternal grandfather passed away in 1988. I wasn't quite 14 yet. We were in a different city and we had to get there as soon as we could for the final rites. My Dad took off immediately. My Mom and I were on the next available flight. ‎My brother, who was just 12, ended up on a flight all by himself. Even in such a terrible time, it was quite exciting. I actually saw 2 movie stars and got an autograph from one of them. This one actually sat right across from me in the waiting area! The flight was only 55 minutes, but we got served one of the best meals ever. My first flight was unforgettable for all the right reasons.
 

Hans' first flight was almost forgettable except for what happened outside of that flight. As soon we took off‎ and all through the flight, all he had to do was look outside of his window to see fluffy clouds and tops of mountains and tiniest of houses and curvaceous water bodies...those he will remember forever and that's all that matters!

Forgetfulness and Lost Items

Craigley once told ASid that the latter might one day lose his underwear at school! Quite the exaggerated statement to make‎, but most parents berate their children with such words on occasion.

ASid has lost the usual hats, mittens and ‎scarves at school. He has lost the usual water bottles and lunch bags as well. Most kids lose these "usual" items. Some parents buy backups of these items; helps them cope better!

‎Last year, Hans lost his snow pants at school. Hans is usually super careful, and this was the first item he ever lost. It was like he skipped a few steps in between! There was this one mom who kept insisting she saw Hans' snow pants in the lost and found bins. However, every time I checked the very same bins, I did not find Hans' snow pants. Towards the end of winter, this very same mom brought Hans' snow pants to me. She claimed something like it was her civic duty to prove to me that she did see Hans' snow pants and she also revealed that her son has the exact snow pants; then, she went onto say that someone could have borrowed Hans' pants?! This mom literally dug a hole for herself as she kept talking. I never looked at her the same way again after that conversation. But I digress!

This post is about Craigley's frustration with ASid's forgetfulness. ‎The worst ASid ever forgot to bring home was his clarinet. It should have been brought back on the last day of Grade 8. We only found out about this towards the end of the summer holidays when we were doing an inventory check for what ASid needed for Grade 9 at his new high school. The clarinet was one of the needed items!

Lucky for ASid that he had a late start on the first day of high school. He had enough time to swing by his former school and retrieve ‎his clarinet. Lucky for him that the clarinet was still in the music room! He was also fortunate that the principal and the music teacher allowed him inside of the school building on what is probably the busiest day of the school year!

Such instances start Craigley off on his ranting about ‎how ASid is so good at losing or forgetting stuff that the day is not far for him to lose his underwear as well!

When I hear Craigley talk like that to ASid, I am reminded of the times when Craigley left for work without his work phone or his wallet or his lunch. It has happened several times! However, I guess it is alright to lose or forget stuff when you are a parent?! To be fair to Craigley, he must want his son to be better than him?! Isn't that what we strive for as parents?!

‎I will not go into much detail here; however on our most recent vacation, Craigley lost his driver's license. ASid was the one who helped me retrace our steps from the day before and waited patiently at a one-of-a-kind City Hall’s lost and found for over half an hour. While we went through that exercise, not once did ASid gloat over this ironic twist in the tale. I guess ASid handled it better than one of his parents! Craigley should be proud of a job accomplished!

Forgetting and losing, and dealing with it...Like father (un)like son!

 

The BEST day ever...

Hans loves to feel like one of the big boys. He loves it when ASid's friends come over. A couple of days ago was no exception! It was ASid's 15th birthday and he invited 4 friends to come over ‎to our home to hang out and have pizza. 2 of the friends were from ASid's new high school and Hans was super excited to meet them.

The night before, Hans could barely contain his excitement. He proclaimed that the next day was going to be the best day of his life.

As each of ASid's friends arrived, Hans made sure he was front and centre of the "Welcome Party" by introducing himself with gusto! It was super cute and absurd at the same time. Hans also made it a point to open the door to his bedroom and show off his well-honed skill at creating amazing messes in every nook, corner and available space! That was annoying and embarrassing for me, but somewhat empowering for Hans. He felt like he was measuring up on some invisible scale. It was a strange display of man cub like bravado that seemed to announce to the high school aged guests that Hans is no less than them!

Hans stuck with the 5 teenagers ‎like his life depended on it. After about an hour, I had to do a quick grocery run; when I got back, Hans wasn't with the teen gang. Upon inquiry, I found out that Hans was relegated to the basement. When I went to check up on him, he said that his older brother told him to get lost. I felt sorry for the little guy, but glad that he was handling the situation quite well.

Hans tried to join the older kids one more time, and was told to leave as the game they were playing was too mature for Hans. The second exclusion hit him hard. ‎Hans walked away and literally drowned out his sorrows by putting on headphones and watching some YouTube content on the iPad. He barely spoke with anyone afterwards, and it almost looked like he was deliberately disengaging himself from the masses. Strangely, by not wanting to associate with the teens, Hans' cool factor increased. The other teens were drawn to him and wanted to know what he was watching/doing?! Hans simply nodded his head and silently signaled to them; he didn't really engage in small talk!

When ASid's friends left and I asked Hans if it had been the best day of his life, he responded with "No, it was a normal day." ‎I expected a barrage of complaints and possibly a therapeutic session to help him deal with rejection, and no such drama ensued! It was an 8 year old who had already moved on.

A normal day is just as good as an anticipated BEST day…sometimes even better!
 

Finding my firstborn!

August 22, 2003 was the day we celebrated ‎ASid turning 2 by taking him to watch Finding Nemo. There were 4 adults and a toddler. Although Sir B had watched the movie already, we were glad he accompanied us! ASid, at that time, had a tendency to not watch a movie to the very end. Craigley and I took turns missing the endings of movies those days, and some days my brother relieved us from that deprivation! Having Sir B there meant that the rest of us could all see a movie from the beginning to the end...for a change!

Fast forward to 2016 and Finding Dory ... I asked ASid if he would like to watch the movie with his Momley for old times' sake?! He was like "Can't! Already made plans with my friends! Sorry!" Part of me was a little crushed; but then I managed to put things in perspective - why would a 14 year old watch an animated family flick with his 41 year old mother? Silly Momley!

ASid's 14th year was challenging. I was told that 13 is rough for girls and 14 for boys. I didn't think much about it then, but perhaps it is true. ASid has been the most unlike his usual self in the last few months.‎ 

... His phone became his best friend ... His friends became more important than ever before ... ‎He became Facebook friends with my dad and not his dad ... 

But then, he also most likely felt unlike his usual self.

... His face broke out ... His body rebelled against him in more ways than one ... His voice cracked ... He shot up in height ...

Some challenges/changes were welcomed and some were despised! It didn't help that Hans kept inquiring about the "red dots" on his older brother's face or that Craigley made "peach fuzz" a catch phrase at the dinner table! To have one's face scrutinized on a daily basis is daunting for sure. No wonder ASid seemed to prefer his own company almost all the time. ‎Perhaps that explains why most teenagers close their doors and shut their families out?!

So, ASid spent the most amount of time, in the last year, in his room. He has emerged to go to school; to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner‎ and the occasional snack; and to watch some TV or Netflix! Some days I look at him and I know exactly who he is and some days I wonder who he is. Could I have lost a boy in the confines of our home?! But then again, I know the boy needs time before he is found.

Meanwhile, I ended up watching Finding Dory with Hans! Well, I have learned to seize those moments when I can. While there are always those moments that could have been, I can’t complain about my life.

On that note, I hope ASid has the most fantastic year of his life…and I hope to find him more outside of his room than inside this year.

 

I can hear it already! Sigh!

This post is totally dedicated to Sir B who is now also known as UB to the next generation.

Yesterday was my belated birthday celebration. At 42 years and 10 days old, it is more a celebration of people in my life. Sir B was kind enough to partake in the festivities. Every time I see him, I want to pick his brain and find out what he thinks of this blog. But then I realized yesterday that it is more important to find out what he thinks about how the boys are being brought up! Here is why!

Hans was totally in his element. He forgot all his manners except for when he said "Thank you Jeffrey" to Sir B when the latter handed him a lamb burger fully loaded with tzatziki sauce, sautéed mushrooms and lettuce. Instead of apologizing for my child's rude remark, I start explaining it. Hans fancies himself Batman some days and I am Alfred, the butler. There are days Hans is Fresh Prince of Belair, and anyone "serving" him is Jeffrey, the butler. ‎Since Sir B was kind enough to build Hans' burger for him, Sir B became Jeffrey!

After explaining that, I was also (belatedly) conscious enough to mention that any anomalies in my children's behaviour could be attributed to me. As one "mom friend" once remarked to me ‎that I cannot complain about my children's behaviour if I let them get away with it in the first place! So, it is my fault!

Sir B wondered if I was doing something about it?! As in "righting these identified faults"?! Of course, since I love talking about my parenting and since I also love defending it, I set off on another explanation. Why can I not stop myself from being such a Momley?!

Anyways, I started by telling Sir B that I would never want the boys' future partners to complain about their upbringing. So even if I let some things go‎, I am good at reminding them as they get older. At that point in time, ASid walks by and I pointed him to Sir B as a shining example of my parenting. I proudly proclaimed how ASid is well mannered and how Hans will get to this level of sophistication one of these days. As if to prove my point, ASid stopped by us, smiled and let one rip. The rumbling was so loud, I am sure even his future partner heard it.

I looked at Sir B and had to acknowledge that there will be complaints in the future. I can hear them already! Sigh!

 

When you can't, then please don't!

Last Sunday, we were invited to a dinner at a friend's home. There were 6 boys between the 3 sets of parents, and the boys had the opportunity to either throw hoops or swim. The 2 boys who were Hans' age chose to swim, and Hans chose to throw hoops with the other boys.

It was going well till Hans decided to sit by the pool. I had all sorts of "support equipment" for him if he wanted to swim. He, however, assured me that he will only dangle his feet in the water. Hans is a chatty kid and I guess he wanted to chat with his friends. A few minutes later, I saw Hans in the pool and struggling. I immediately rushed to him and tried to offer my hand. It took Hans a few seconds to reach my hand, and by then, I had extended myself as much as I could. As Hans grabbed my hand, I almost fell into the pool.

- Dramatic pause and a "side bar" follow -

‎I cannot swim. Even as I was trying to "save" Hans, I knew I wasn't the right person for the rescue mission!

I screamed for Craigley to come and help me. Craigley saunters over like he is reaching for a cocktail. When he did reach my side, I was still holding on to Hans’ hand - he was trying to keep afloat and I was trying not to fall into the pool.

Once Hans was out, I could breathe. All Craigley could say was that I should have allowed Hans to struggle for at least a minute...what was the rush? I looked at him like he had gone insane, but I was more interested in finding out how Hans fell into the deep end?!

Apparently, ASid pushed him!! I looked at my first born like what's wrong with you?! He defended himself by saying that he didn't realize Hans still couldn't swim. Hans had swimming lessons from when he was almost 3 to when he turned 7 - that is a good 4 years of private lessons and group lessons‎, and a lot of time plus a crazy amount of money spent! Last year, I decided to give the kid a break. It was more like he had other classes that kept him busy, and swimming took a back seat. The whole point to this background information on swimming is that in spite of all that time, Hans hasn't learned to swim yet!

I want both the boys to know how to swim. We tried to teach ASid swimming at 18 months of age and at 5 years; both the times, Craigley was the designated parent in the pool and he declared that swimming wasn't really that important. Then, when ASid turned 9, I got him a private instructor; a couple of lessons later, ASid was swimming! I was so happy to have provided my child with this lifesaving skill. I am hoping 9 is the magic age for Hans as well to finally learn how to swim.

To get back to the story now...ASid felt very badly and apologized to his younger brother. Hans wasn't too scarred by the experience. Me? I pulled a couple of muscles in my body, and was in a bit of pain. Craigley, on the other hand, was the only one who didn't understand what the fuss was about!

 

Goodbye Chucky! Take Care!

On Monday of this week, I solemnly swore to myself that I would allow Hans to play after school pretty much every day of the week except for Tuesday (when he has Piano and Dance lessons after school). I was kind of regretting the whole idea as Monday afternoon was scorching hot; perhaps not for everyone, but definitely for me. Hans handed over his backpack to me and ran off to play. Barely 2 minutes later, Chucky walked over with his nanny, and he looked like he was ready to cry. I braced myself. Chucky complained that Hans took his sunglasses and hid them somewhere, and is refusing to return them! I lost whatever little bit of cool was left in me and screamed out loud to Hans. Hans was petrified, but managed to make his way towards me. I told him to find the sunglasses, and return them immediately! Hans was about to protest, but I wasn't in a mood to listen. It felt like the last straw. Hans and Chucky ran off to look for the sunglasses. A few minutes later, they returned without them. I assured Chucky that we would replace his sunglasses; got the details and his nanny took him away. I glared at Hans like I could make a hole in his head so it could be filled with some wisdom. I am sure at least half a dozen moms heard me tell Hans that he couldn't play after school that day and for the rest of the week. I was raving and ranting all the way from school to home. If anyone had recorded me, I would have made it to YouTube and become fodder on talk shows.‎ Sigh! When will my child learn? All Hans said, in his defence, was that he did not take the sunglasses. Apparently some other kid took them from Chucky, and asked Hans to hide them! Unacceptable; Hans made the wrong choice again.

I wasn't at school on Tuesday as Craigley does drop off and pick up on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Wednesday morning, I saw one of the moms who witnessed my horrific meltdown from Monday and I walked‎ up to her to apologize. As I was chatting with her, another mom got curious, and we filled her in on the details. The bell rang and the kids started lining up. This other mom whispered in my ear that her daughter (who was in Hans' class) heard him say that his life was not good and he wants to die. I looked at her in shock and mumbled that he can be dramatic and is fully capable of making such statements. I also informed her that he wasn't with his friends this school year, and maybe he was expressing that! To which, she responded that there could be problems at home! At which point, she had to go, and I had to go in to see the Principal to have some cheques signed. I wasn't really in a mood to do anything; I was hit hard. Why would Hans say something that extreme and that tragic? I actually asked the Principal. She assured me that he is a happy boy, and not to worry. Still, I went and checked in with a couple of his teachers who weren't in class yet - the librarian and the Phys Ed teacher. Both of them were puzzled and said that boys at this age could make shocking statements more for effect than anything else. Still, it bothered me. Was I that tough on him on Monday that he had to declare he wanted to die?!

I talked to my friend C, and she tried to help me deal with it by saying maybe the other mom got it wrong. It was just a little girl sharing her day with her mom; details get smudged. I needed more input and constructive feedback, I called my friends Y and P, in that order. Y said something like Craigley and I are quite tough on Hans. Being my friend, she said something like Craigley is tougher for sure! P, on the other hand, brushed it off as some sort of miscommunication. So, I decided to chat directly with Hans' teacher who does spend about 5 to 6 hours a day with him. She would be my best source and resource.

So, at pick up on Wednesday, I asked Hans' teacher about his dramatic statement. She looked puzzled, but she said that she had another boy make that statement,‎ and perhaps it is being picked up by other boys in her classroom. So, I went back to the mom who shared this info with me in the first place to get more insight. Luckily, she was still around. I asked her when exactly the statement was made. She said that it was made in front of the teacher and everyone else! And I was like that can't be as I just spoke with the teacher and she is not aware of Hans ever making that statement. At this point in time, this mom looked at me like I was crazy and then she said, "It was not Hans! It was Chucky!"

I was stunned and relieved at the same time. Then, I had to rush back to the teacher to clarify things with her. Coincidentally, she was chatting with the Phys Ed teacher. I told them both that it was a crazy misunderstanding, and for some strange reason, I burst into tears. Both the teachers rushed to get me some tissues, and I had a free therapy session with them. I was like I made the choice to stay home and the least I expect is for my kids to be happy and good kids. I told them how tortured I felt the whole day from drop off to pick up. They sympathized with me; reassured me that I am a good mom and sent me off to enjoy the rest of the day.

I felt much better till I thought of Chucky. For the first time, I felt genuinely sorry for that child. He is 8 and he feels this way now. When I thought Hans felt that way, I felt personally responsible and wanted to do everything in my power to help my child not feel that way. I hope Chucky gets some help. On that note, on Monday, I did drop by Chucky's home with Hans - we got him a cool pair of sunglasses that he liked and immediately wore, and looked happy.‎ I hope Chucky gets to work out his issues.

I am saying goodbye to Chucky in this post - goodbye to the Chucky I have been writing about for the last 4 years. I hope Chucky gets a new lease on life. Hans and I will be kind to him when we can. Everyone deserves a second chance. Good luck to Junior...a name change (from my end) is the first step in this new direction. Take care boy!

 

(School) Year-end Reflections!

I am looking back on the moments between the day after Labour Day in September and now. It has been a year where both the boys have pleasantly surprised me or shocked me with their questions, observations and emotional outbursts.

Since it is ASid's first year of high school and he was really transitioning into a full-fledged teen, some of the dramatic moments actually made sense; however, some were truly unexpected from his little brother Hans! Here are a couple of random selections before I close the doors on the 2015-2016 school year.

Perhaps I was adopted...a raging reflective super short story from an 8 year‎ old's perspective!

One fine day, during a conversation, I said something like "no child of mine can be selfish; I can't believe you are being so selfish" to Hans. At this point in time, I forget the context within which those remarks were made. However, I cannot forget Hans' response: Maybe you are not my real mom!

Hans insisted‎ on looking at some baby pictures of himself and me as proof that I am indeed his mother. I refused to indulge his nonsensical claim. Part of me was amused and part of me was crushed! I never thought he would ever question my being his mother?! Oh well, I should have seen it coming. If he could disown his father, the mother is not too far behind!

Perhaps you love somebody else‎...a deeply disturbing accusation by an 8 year old!

This year, I was very involved at Hans' ‎school - I was a classroom parent, the Treasurer on the School Council and also worked on the yearbook. It kept me super busy. I like to help wherever possible and I cannot say NO! That's how I ended up on the yearbook team. I am not the only parent who likes to help, there are a few others as well. This year, we had a father join this very small group of helpful parents. He and I did most of the work on the yearbook. This particular parent did not like to email; he preferred to call. So, he called our home quite a bit. We have a phone that actually announces the caller's name. Hans must have heard it enough times before he confronted me.

"Do you love him?" I was like "Seriously?!", but I was also laughing. Hans kept going, "So you don't love daddy anymore?" I asked him where he was getting this nonsense from?! "You are always on the phone with him!" So what?! "You must have a crush on him?!" Dude, you are 8!! "Maybe a little crush?!"

I couldn't believe the conversation. Does Hans even know the meaning of crush?! At that point in time, even ASid piped in. He wanted to know who this guy was. So, I had the opportunity to introduce this parent to ASid as well as reintroduce him to Craigley and Hans at the school Fun Fair.

This is what ASid had to say, "He looks like a regular guy!" What did he expect‎? A Greek God?

It is interesting that the boys don't seem to mind me hanging out with my "mom friends" from drop off to pick up. But a "dad friend" is a big threat to their family's very existence. I had to reassure the boys that for their Momley, her boys come first! Even their dad is a distant second!

On that note, I am really taking a break from being helpful. After 4 years of being an active School Council member at 2 different schools, I am finally giving my helpful hands a rest. Not because the boys got a bit insecure for a brief moment in time, but it did put everything in perspective.

One other interesting revelation (for myself) has been my ‎relative ease in dealing with ASid's teen issues. On the other hand, Hans' melodramatic issues were much more challenging to deal with. I really don't know whether to laugh or cry some days. I usually laugh it off though and that's how I am able to write about it! Both the boys make my life interesting and in spite of all the craziness they bring to it, I wouldn't trade them for all the sanity in the world.

Goodbye Grade 9 and Grade 2! It has been a blast!