Subverting Expectations...

Children are very good at this -- subverting our expectations. You'd think by now, I'd have learned that things never go as planned.

Yesterday, we went to the Arboretum. The boys love climbing and running down the steep hills. 

Great exercise = calmer bedtimes = better sleeps. I'm in!

Thought I'd video William and Bo running down. William filled his boots...Bo...well, just watch.

Poor lad.

A pesky little pooch barked it's head off, scaring the crap out of Bo. I trudged up the hill, reassuring him the dog did not want to eat him. 

And that was the end of my brilliant idea.

One more video to bust your weekend: William channeling Gangnum Style. 

For those of you wondering what GS is -- a Korean rapper taking America by storm. William thinks he's hilarious (he especially likes the sauna scene, the man in the yellow outfit, the guy in the elevator, and the toilet scene). Go here for the real deal: http://youtu.be/9bZkp7q19f0

At one point I thought William had some natural dance rhythm. Don't think I'll be entering him in Ellen's Gangnum Style dance competition after all. (Jud will be relieved).

Hair

Mullet is growing out, eyebrows still look
like gigantic hairy caterpillars. Perhaps Bo
gets his from me and not Jud?

Me in Grade 6...never mind the mullet,
what is up with those eyebrows?

Horrendous. That is all I can  say.


Unfortunately I could not find my Grade Seven school photo which should really be a federal crime (maybe that's why I threw it out?). 

But picture the mulletiest mullet ever, and that's me in Gr. 7.  


If you have a daughter, do not ever, ever, ever do this to her.







23 years later and I still look at these pictures, that hair, and think w-t-f ?????? My Gr. 7 photo is so bad that I've considered entering it in Ellen's photo contest, you know the one where people send in unbelievably horrible photos of themselves, often from the eighties or early nineties. Sadly, I think I'd win.

In the history of hair, I cannot think of an uglier hairstyle than the mullet. The only people who seem to (somewhat) get away with the mullet "style" are: 

a) rock stars
b) hockey players
c) fat lesbians (ever notice how they braid the long strands?)

I was none of the above and even worse, I was in junior high. Girls in junior high are not known for their kindess, and this hairstyle did me no favors. 

It took me a couple of years but I dumped the hair stylist responsible for this monstrosity and found somebody who had an inkling of style, at least something that kept me bully-free.

It saddens me a bit that I don't have a daughter. During my pregnancies, I wondered if my baby would have thick dark hair like mine and how I'd learn to do all these funky braids and crazy styles. 

The boys do have beautiful hair. It is thick and dark, soft and shiny. The kind of hair that needs a style. I already know I'm going to be one of those moms who will take her boys to a stylist, rather than the barber, when they're older. 

But for now, la styliste, c'est moi...was me, rather. Pretty sure Bo fired me today.

We hadn't even begun yet.

Cutting boys hair is harder than it looks. The sideburns, the back of the neck, around the ears...not easy with a screaming two-year-old who sits still for, uh, zero seconds. 

My bad.

That's not a "thumbs up" for my efforts. Look closely. He's holding up part of
Hershey's kiss wrapper.

Joshua enjoyed watching though.

We experienced so much parental abuse taking William to get his hair cut that we decided we may as well save the twenty bucks and do it ourselves. It's not like it looked "perfect" anyway, not with him squirming around the chair, screaming and foaming at the mouth as we pinned him down and put his big melon in a headlock. No, it was not a pretty site.

I have learned, through my few forays into the hair cutting world, that when you accidentally take out a chunk of hair above the ear, or at the back of the neck, it is best to cut all the hair as short as possible. Had I not done this, Bo would have ended up in Dumb and Dumber territory.

So, his hair doesn't look that bad. It doesn't look that great either and his next cut will happen at a salon or at a barber's despite the likely chaos that will ensue. 

Potty Time

It was a rough weekend.

At first Bo was very excited to ditch the diapers and don his new Tigger underwear. It stopped about there. 

The potty seemed more like a new place to sit as opposed to the new place for doing business.

Of course reality set in when magically a puddle appeared below his feet -- Hey, where did that come from??? And eeewwww, I feel yucky and wet! 

After a few more puddles and doing the Cowboy "wet-walk", it started to dawn on Bo that he was responsible for this yellow liquid throwing a monkey wrench into his daily activities. 

I honestly can't remember at what point he figured out the potty was the place for the puddles, but when he did, whooah-ho, smartie time!!!

So that was #1....

#2 was delayed as loooooong as possible. But as you can imagine, drinking a ton of milk and eating bags of smarties made things a little uncomfortable down there. I wonder now, maybe we should have given him chocolate covered espresso beans?

But #2 did come. There was no going back. And Bo did us proud. William was an excellent wing man, seemingly even more proud than the Bo Man himself. 

Joshua had no clue what was going on and preferred lazing on Jud's laundry with his blocks.

Yes, the laundry was clean.

This blog post was sponsored by tylenol, bailey's irish cream, smarties, toys r us, and an infinite amount of patience.

Fathers and Sons

Jud here! Jill has been dropping some 'not so subtle' hints that she would like me, on occasion, to contribute to her blog....so, here we go...

As Jill noted earlier, William began Kindergarten this past week and will now trod upon a different path. It's a dramatic and emotional moment for most parents, despite the fact that we know it's what's best for our kids. On William's first day Jill took all 3 boys to the bus stop. It's about a block away and while they didn't know, I watched from our doorstep, peeking through the leaves of our neighbour's tree. Everything that I hold dear in the world stood in one spot, wondering what the heck was about to happen. I saw the bus pull up and the door open, and for a moment William stood looking up, I assume at the driver, before taking that big step up, through and forward.

Like most first born children, William was a catalyst for change. Our lifestyle changed, our home changed and Jill's and my relationship changed. Perhaps most importantly though, I changed. In many parts of my life I was going through the motions, moving along with daily life as opposed to shaping it. I was in a business where my partner was manipulative and dishonest. I'm not sure why I stayed as long as I did, attempting to make it work, but the short of it was I was knowingly being used and I wasn't doing anything about it.

One day I returned home, William was about one, and as usual he raced to see me, beaming. He was a beautiful boy with crazy, thick hair, bright eyes and big dimples, and we looked at each other. At the time we lived in a semi-detached house that had multiple levels, so while I stood in our foyer looking at him, he was 6 steps up in the living room, looking at me. We were essentially eye to eye. A little boy and his 6'5" father, eye to eye. In that moment, I realized that I was failing him. I had obviously been failing myself, and Jill, for a while by remaining in my work situation. But it dawned on me that I was now failing my son. It's a terrible feeling, thinking that you are letting your child down. A father needs to set an example for his kids. A father needs to show his son what a man should be, or at the very least what a man could be. What kind of role model knowingly allows himself, and by extension his family, to be taken advantage of? A poor one. I left my company that week and started another. Money was beyond tight, and the line of credit did most of the heavy lifting for the first six months. When the line of credit maxed out the credit card kicked in. But we were shaping our own lives, and we slept better as a result.

3 years later business is really good. Wi has become WiBoJo and we have a home with only 2 levels, not 5, which should reduce these dramatic moments! This past week William, my beautiful first born, took his first step on the long path towards becoming a man. I stood on our doorstep and watched, peaking through the leaves of our neighbour's tree.

Tubby talk with Bo

This weekend we plan to potty train Bo. He's almost 26 months old, the same age as when we potty trained William. We *hope* it goes just as smoothly. 

He really has no idea what he's in for.

I thought I'd ask Bo his thoughts on the upcoming big event:

Me: Guess what Bo? Potty training this weekend.
Bo: Nice.
Me: Do you know what that means?
Bo: Yes.
Me: Tell Mommy what it means.
Bo: Uh...water. (giggling) Tig-tig-tig-aaaaaaaaaaa.
Me: Bo, potty training means going poo poo and pee pee in the potty.
Bo: Yes.
Me: Are you going to do that in the potty?
Bo: Yes.
Me: Bo, no more diapers.
Bo: (look of shock, this sinks in a bit) No....diapers?

This weekend should be interesting.

Fight Fight Fight

Must be paid actors...

There are days -- who am I kidding? -- almost every day feels like a fight with the boys to do the most mundane of tasks: eat food, brush teeth, take off pyjamas, put on clothes, stay seated at the kitchen table while eating...you get the picture. And even when they comply, the task at hand takes ten times as long as it should. 

Despite getting a fairly decent six or seven hours of sleep, I am exhausted, and I realized it's these constant struggles that drain me of energy, and most of all, patience. 

This is more like it.

This morning I went to Michael's thinking it would be a neat idea to make a craft (something I rarely do since I end up doing the whole thing and they generally make a big mess out of the materials). Joshua was fussy so I took him out of the stroller and hip-held him. Meanwhile, Bo and William found these bouncy balls that light up the more you bounce them. Yeah, you can put two and two together. 

There was really nothing I could do short of embarrassing myself so I merely "managed" their behaviour in the store while I tried to find these craft materials. Threatening to take the balls away seemed to only embolden their "engergetic" behaviour and they just laughed when I said the word "timeout". They knew I was essentially powerless to do much without tossing out my plans and wrestling them into the mini-van.

I am at a loss here. I do not have anything left in my bag of tricks so if there's anything you'd like to share -- some funny stories, modes of "behaviour modification" that have worked for you, please share!!! 

For now, a shot of Bailey's it is. Just to take the edge off.

Band of Brothers

Some parents' hearts break when their first child goes off to school. I was too concerned for Bo's heart breaking...

Bo needed milk and his blanket after this traumatic event.

William said he had a great day and was excited to see Bo, who waited anxiously for him to get off the bus.

These two are pretty tight. I sure hope that lasts for the rest of their lives. *sniff, sniff*

My Peter Pan is Growing Up

Tomorrow our eldest boy, William (almost 4), starts junior kindergarten. Husband sent me an article titled Teach Him Gently which, judging by the title, caused me to tear up as I read it. 

William being a goof...

As adults, we know how cruel the world can be, and how that begins at school. I won't be there to protect my little prince. Some of his innocence will begin to shed.

Bo with the big eyes made even bigger by the Spider Man face paint. 

Tonight in the tub with brother Bo (2). 

Me: William, tomorrow is your first day of school.
William: (big smile).
Me: Are you excited?
William: Yeah-aaaah!
Bo: Catch the fluff!  (note: two bits of sock fluff were floating in the tub)
Me: What do you think you'll do at school?
William: I don't know.
Me: What do you want to do at school?
William: Uh, play? And have snacks there.
Me: Anything else?
Bo: Fluff! Catch it!
William: I don't know.
Me: What do you hope you're teacher is like?
William: Daddy said I have to help the teacher clean up.
Me: Do you like cleaning?
William: Yeah. [ No. ]
Me: Bo, are you excited for William to go to school?
Bo: Too. [ Me go too. ]
Me: What happens if you don't like school tomorrow?
William: I will.

Gotta love the optimism. We should all be more like that. 

Baby Joshua 5.5 months...big innocent blue eyes...William looked just like this when he was a baby. Wow, those 4 years have gone by super fast...