From the category archives:

Ah, me boys

So, talk to me about skateboards

by DaniGirl on April 30, 2012 · 5 comments

in Ah, me boys,Mothering without a licence

Bloggy peeps, I need some advice. There’s a 10 year old boy in my life who is dying for a skateboard.

I am nervous about this whole concept for a couple of reasons. First, I don’t know anything about skateboards. My childhood experience included many trips to the ER due to spills on toboggans, bicycles and falling up the stairs, but I have no experience with skateboards.

Second, we have a very steeply pitched driveway that dumps into the road at a spot well-hidden from oncoming drivers by a giant cedar hedge. I don’t worry so much about the 10 year old here, but I do worry about the four year old who THINKS he’s a 10 year old.

I don’t want to be overprotective. A skateboard is really not that different from a bike. Is it? But how do you get a good one and am I insane if I make him wear elbow, wrist AND knee pads in addition to a helmet? (And, erm, a full suit of bubble wrap?)

I have some serious misgivings, but I want to be convinced. Help me, bloggy peeps. Tell me what I need to know to make Tristan’s dream come true!

{ 5 comments }

In which history repeats itself

by DaniGirl on April 29, 2012 · 1 comment

in Ah, me boys

It was only a couple of months ago I happened on an old blog post that I had completely forgotten. With more than 2000 (!) published posts in the archive this happens rather often, and it’s one of my very favourite parts of having the blog. Although I’d forgotten the story and it made me laugh when I re-read it recently, I didn’t mention the story to anyone after I stumbled across it, and so I couldn’t help but laugh when history repeated itself just yesterday.

First, replicated for your ease of clicking, here’s the original post from 2007:

For the most part, potty training Tristan was a breeze. He waited until he was three and a half to be ready for it, but when he was ready, the transition was quick, painless and relatively dry. From the last day of diapers, we’ve had a total of maybe a dozen accidents at most. A year and a half later, however, one hurdle remains.

He refuses to wipe his own butt.

We’ve tried cajoling, reasoning, bribing and ignoring him, but he outwaits us every time. And for reasons I’ll never understand, the vast preponderance of the time, he likes to go when we are sitting at the dinner table.

Tristan, from the bathroom: “I’m done.”

Me, at the table: “Good.”

(pause)

Tristan: “Are you coming?”

Me: “No. Wipe yer own butt.”

Tristan, whining: “I can’t!”

Me: “Yes, you can.”

Tristan: “I don’t want to!”

Me: “Well, that’s probably closer to the truth. You have to learn to wipe your own butt, Tristan. Big boys wipe their own butts.”

(pause)

Tristan: “Is this Monday?”

Me, unfazed at the non-sequiter: “No, it’s Saturday.”

Tristan: “Well, I only wipe my own butt on Mondays.”

How do you argue with logic like that? He may have won again today, but you can bet he’s not getting away with it come Monday!

(Edited to add: and by God if he didn’t wipe his own butt on Monday. By his choice, mind you. He called from the bathroom, I reminded him it was Monday, and he said “Oh, okay” and did it. Who knew??)

Fast forward back to 2012. I’m editing photos in Lightroom just as the kids are getting ready for bed when the call comes from the bathroom, except this time it’s Lucas:

Lucas, from the bathroom: “Mo-om! Come wipe my butt!”

Me: “No way, José. You can do it.”

(pause)

Lucas: “I don’t know how to wipe my bum in the nighttime, only in the daytime.”

I can’t say much for their bathroom hygiene, but at least I know my boys share a strong streak of creativity.

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In which they tax the resources of their guardian angels

by DaniGirl on March 26, 2012 · 10 comments

in Ah, me boys

You know those moments when you realize that you passed a bit of a fork in the road, and you’re standing on the side of the fork that did not end in greater unpleasantness, and you catch your breath and say a silent prayer of gratitude to the forces of the universe that watch out over you?

Yeah, me too. Four times in three days. Oy.

One of the things I both like and dislike about our property is that we’re on a fairly pronounced hill. I like it because being near the top of the hill, water tends to rush past us rather than, say, pooling in our basement. I dislike it because other things also rush downhill, like out-of-control tricycles hurtling panicking preschoolers toward the road where it meets the end of the driveway at a huge blind spot. We drill Lucas to stay at the top of the driveway, away from the slope, but maybe the long winter erased our dire warnings. He and I both realized he was in trouble at the same time, and though I flung myself off the porch after him, I was way too late and sick with dread when I saw the two ways that his trajectory could end — either with him hurtling across the (thankfully empty) road or in the (rock lined) drainage ditch beside the driveway. It was the latter that swallowed up both Lucas and the trike, and by the time I got to him he was on his back having tipped over the edge, coming to rest with the trike on top of him. Completely unscathed. I think it took more than a day for my heart to resume it’s regular rhythm.

I was making dinner on Friday when my heart stopped for the second time in as many days at the timbre of panic from the big boys’ voices as they called me. The swing portion of our huge wooden playstructure had somehow come loose as the boys swung as high as they could, completely wrenching itself free from the rest of the playstructure and crashing down — onto Lucas. Again, he was badly frightened but relatively unhurt with a bit of a lump on the crown of his head. The swings flung the big boys clear out of the way. And I had two dozen new grey hairs on the crown of my own head overnight.

And then last night, Simon crashed to the ground after scaling a backyard tree to a rather lofty height of seven or eight feet and having a branch give way. He suffered an angry scratch to his leg but not even a tear to his pants, and served up an excellent cautionary tale to his brothers.

Lucky for me, I wasn’t even on call when Tristan took a basketball to the face last week. His teachers had to clean the blood off his face and hands for that one.

Is it too late to trade them in for a gaggle of girls? Surely the teen years with a girl can’t be any harder to stomach than three active, energetic boys on the loose?

Brothers

It’s a good thing they’re so damn cute. I’m calling for a return to winter, though, because this outdoor play is taking too much of a toll on us!

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The wisdom of Simon

by DaniGirl on March 18, 2012 · 0 comments

in Simon

Simon and I in the car, chatting amiably as we drive back from buying new school shoes for Simon, when a propos of nothing he says, “You know, you’re really lucky to have such a smart dad.”

The non-sequitor throws me for a loop and I’m quiet for a minute, wondering where this is coming from and where it might be going. “Um, yes,” I say eventually. Then, “How so?”

“I like how he knows so much stuff. He tells me all sorts of facts that I didn’t know about.” I chuckle to myself. My dad does like teaching the boys things.

Simon is continuing. “Once, when I was playing video games, he was telling me about when he was a kid and there were no video games, and what the first video games were like.” I’m delighted Simon is receptive to him. Not every eight year old boy is interested in hearing about the old days, back in the 1980s. Even so, I try to interject, telling him there were no video games when *I* was a kid, either, but Simon is more interested in Papa Lou’s perspective than mine. “It’s cool being old. I can’t wait until I’m old and I know so much stuff, too, and I can tell my grandkids all about it.”

And, my darling, perceptive, sensitive Simon, I hope they show the same sweet appreciation that you do. Thanks for making me smile.

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A love letter to Tristan, age 10

by DaniGirl on March 7, 2012 · 5 comments

in Tristan

My darling Tristan, you are TEN years old today! A whole decade! You’re up to my shoulder now, my tall son, and your feet are the same size as mine. Won’t be long now and I’ll be looking up to you even when your feet are on the ground!

Backyard fun (3 of 6)

Tristan, you still have boundless energy and a good appetite for adventure. You like to climb things, to leap off things, to balance on things. You like to wander and explore with me (and I’m delighted to admit, you seem to share my sense of humour!) You’re a great companion, and I enjoy chatting with you as we walk. I was very impressed early in the spring last year when you committed to training for your first 5K run, and I was especially proud when you persevered through bucketloads of cold rain to finish the run.

142:365 Goode Run (1 of 6)

One of the definite highlights of your year was the arrival of Willie the Cat. Maybe it’s because you share a birthday (Happy Birthday Willie!) or because you’re just a cat person at heart, but there is no doubt there is a special bond between you and that cat. And perhaps even more endearing, it’s clear the cat feels the same way. I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re a tall, hairless, funny-looking litter mate. (In sorting through my pictures from the year for this post, I laughed at the fact that nearly if not more than half of my pictures of you for the year also feature the cat somehow.)

177:365 Hello kitty

It’s great to know I can count on you to help around the house without too much complaint, even if I have to micromanage you, and you’re clearly comfortable taking on more responsibility in the family with tasks like feeding the pets and small household jobs. You also learned to play chess this year, and started taking guitar lessons. You seem to be enjoying your lessons quite a bit, even if you don’t practice nearly as much as you should. You can play a few songs now, and I enjoy hearing you practice.

361:365 Guitar player redux

You still love video games, of course. You like to play Club Penguin on the computer and Skylanders on the Wii and DS. You still like Super Mario Bros and Pokemon. Your favourite shows are Phinias and Ferb and Hello Charlie, and you and Simon like to watch tween shows like Witches of Waverly. I love how you comfortably stand between the childhood that is nearly behind you and the teen years ahead with an easy comfort in both worlds.

140:365 On the carousel

Your best friend is clearly Simon, though you might never admit it. You two are partners in crime, joined at the hip — often literally. I love how the two of you flop together like puppies in a litter, and how you make each other laugh. Outside of the house, your best friends are Theodore and Sophie, and even though Sophie moved across town last year you’ve stayed in touch through letters and weekend playdates.

Uno Boys

You are extremely patient (most of the time) with Lucas, who is more like you that you realize or would care to admit. This photo was one of my favourite memories of the year, when you asked out of the blue if you could read to Lucas at bedtime.

Big brother reading

You’ve done well at school this year, better in the second half of the year than the first. I think it took you a while to find your groove in your first year of French immersion and while your grades have been good, you needed a bit of an attitude adjustment in the first semester, which your latest report card reflects you’ve clearly done. Just last week, I eavesdropped on a conversation you and your Dad were having about what you wanted to be when you grow up. You said you’d like to be an artist, because it would be fun to draw pictures and make paintings all day. It’s no surprise to me that you’d consider a career in the arts, because you draw and doodle so relentlessly that your teacher gave you a special doodle pad to keep you from filling your desk with endless bits of scrap paper. You have special permission to use it only when you’ve finished your in-class work.

333:365 Homework is boring

This is the year when you’ve clearly come to love reading as well. I’m charmed that each night after either your Dad or I read to you and Simon that Simon falls instantly asleep and you lay quietly in your bed reading to yourself. Lately you’ve consumed Bone books and Calvin and Hobbes cartoons and Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, among others. I like the quiet conversations we have when I come down each night to turn off your light and tuck you in.

Hey look Willie, mom got a new iPhone!

Tristan, you’re warm, sweet, smart, energetic and artistic, and I genuinely enjoy your company immensely (when you aren’t fidgeting madly or making the weird, random, repetitive noises that boys your age seem incapable of repressing!) Your quirks make you even more endearing to me, and it’s a genuine joy to have you as my son. Happy birthday, my darling Tristan! I wish you a year filled with joy and delight. :)

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100 best kids’ books

by DaniGirl on February 19, 2012 · 8 comments

in Ah, me boys,Books

I honestly don’t know how I missed it. I mean, I’ve always *meant* to read Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time, but I just never got around to it. So when I read a reference to it in the Ottawa Citizen earlier this week, it was top-of-mind when I was at the library yesterday and I picked it up. I asked the boys if they would mind pausing our current book, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (which I think I’ve now read at least half a dozen times), to give this one a try. Simon especially was reluctant — he really loves the Harry Potter books. But he acquiesced and last night we read the first chapter of A Wrinkle In Time.

It was really hard to stop after just one chapter. I’m torn between sneaking it upstairs and devouring it myself or discovering it page-by-page with the boys. I felt the funniest echo through time, reading the perspective of oddball Meg who doesn’t quite understand why she doesn’t fit in with her mates. How have I never read this book before? Tristan and Simon agreed — they rated the book a “three plus” out of four after the first chapter, and agreed that Harry could wait until we figured out what a tesseract is and what happens next.

So it was a serendipitous sort of discovery to find in the Citizen (via Scholastic Books) a list of the top 100 children’s books of all time, with A Wrinkle In Time sitting prominently in the number 3 spot. Really, HOW have I missed it? And for the love of all things holy, what else have I missed?

Here they are, in case you’ve been missing out, too:

100. Animalia, Graeme Base

99. Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices, Paul Fleischman

98. First Words, Roger Priddy

97. The Adventures of Captain Underpants, Dav Pilkey

96. Gossie, Olivier Dunrea

95. A Single Shard, Linda Sue Park

94. I Took the Moon for a Walk, Carolyn Curtis

93. We the Kids: The Preamble to the Constitution of the United States, David Catrow

92. What Shall We Do With the Boo Hoo Baby?, Cressida Cowell

91. Team Moon: How 400,000 People Landed Apollo 11 on the Moon, Catherine Thimmesh

90. Puss in Boots, Fred Marcellio

89. An Egg Is Quiet, Dianna Hutts Aston

88. Grumpy Bird, Jeremy Tankard

87. Rules, Cynthia Lord

86. Interrupting Chicken, David Ezra Stein

85. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Judy Blume

84. No No Yes Yes, Leslie Patricelli

83. Yoko, Rosemary Wells

82. Ivy + Bean, Annie Barrows

81. Lincoln: A Photobiography, Russell Freedman

80. What Do You Do With a Tail Like This?, Steve Jenkins and Robin Page

79. Llama Llama Red Pajama, Anna Dewdney

78. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh, Robert C. O’Brien

77. Hi! Fly Guy, Tedd Arnold

76. Peek-a Who?, Nina Laden

75. Holes, Louis Sachar

74. Owl Moon, Jane Yolen

73. Tea With Milk, Allen Say

72. Are You My Mother?, P. D. Eastman

71. Bridge to Terabithia, Katherine Paterson

70. Blackout, John Rocco

69. The Magic School Bus at the Waterworks, Joanna Cole

68. Counting Kisses: A Kiss and Read Book, Karen Katz

67. Esperanza Rising, Pam Muñoz Ryan

66. The Maze of Bones, Rick Riordan

65. Birds, Kevin Henkes

64. My Truck is Stuck!, Kevin Lewis

63. The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Brian Selznick

62. Diary of a Worm, Dorren Cronin

61. The Lion & the Mouse, Jerry Pinkney

60. Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes, Annie Kubler

59. Dear Juno, Soyung Pak

58. Harvesting Hope: The Story of Cesar Chavez, Kathleen Krull

57. The Bad Beginning, Lemony Snicket

56. Living Sunlight, Molly Bang and Penny Chisholm

55. Smile!, Roberta Grobel Intrater

54. Through My Eyes, Ruby Bridges

53. The House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne

52. The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan

51. Sylvia Long’s Mother Goose, Sylvia Long

50. Sarah, Plain and Tall, Patricia MacLachlan

49. Martin’s Big Words, Doreen Rappaport

48. Hatchet, Gary Paulsen

47. Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, Bill Martin, Jr.

46. Not a Box, Antoinette Portis

45. The Composition, Antonio Skármeta

44. Good Night, Gorilla, Peggy Rathmann

43. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, C. S. Lewis

42. What Do People Do All Day?, Richard Scarry

41. Matilda, Roald Dahl

40. Moo, Baa, La La La!, Sandra Boynton

39. Zen Shorts, John J. Muth

38. Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Jeff Kinney

37. The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear, Don and Audrey Wood 36. The Secret Garden, Francis Hodgson Burnett

35. Freight Train, Donald Crews

34. Swimmy, Leo Lionni

33. The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins

32. The Runaway Bunny, Margaret Wise Brown

31. The Mitten, Jan Brett

30. My Rotten Redheaded Older Brother, Patricia Polacco

29. Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, Judy Blume

28. Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!, Mo Willems

27. Black on White, Tana Hoban

26. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, Grace Lin

25. The Giver, Lois Lowry

24. The Little Engine That Could, Watty Piper

23. The Phantom Tollbooth, Norton Juster

22. Corduroy, Don Freeman

21. Bud, Not Buddy, Christopher Paul Curtis

20. Where the Sidewalk Ends, Shel Silverstein

19. Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale, Mo Willems

18. When Marian Sang, Pam Muñoz Ryan

17. Pat the Bunny, Dorothy Kunhardt

16. Tuck Everlasting, Natalie Babbitt

15. The Dot, Peter H. Reynolds

14. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame

13. Madeline, Ludwig Bemelmans

12. The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle

11. Anne of Green Gables, L. M. Montgomery

10. Frog and Toad Are Friends, Arnold Lobel

9. The Giving Tree, Shel Silverstein

8. The Diary of a Young Girl, Anne Frank

7. Green Eggs and Ham, Dr. Seuss

6. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, J. K. Rowling (Also known as Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone)

5. Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak

4. The Snowy Day, Ezra Jack Keats

3. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L’Engle

2. Goodnight Moon, Margaret Wise Brown

1. Charlotte’s Web, E. B. White

The most surprising and delightful part of this list was mentioning it to Tristan and Simon, and telling them that A Wrinkle In Time was number three on the list. They were intrigued, and it warmed my bibliophile heart to see them pouring over the list, finding their favourites and discussing the ranking.

Top 100 books

Did your favourites make the cut? I was surprised to see that If You Give A Mouse A Cookie didn’t make the list, and not a single Robert Munsch? What do you think of the list?

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In which Tristan lacks a role model

13 February 2012 Ah, me boys

When Tristan was four or five years old, he had some sort of bacterial infection that required an antibiotic. Since he’s shown signs of sensitivity to penicillin, he’s usually prescribed an antibiotic that is known for its particularly vile aftertaste. Family legends are made of the epic struggles we had getting the dreaded “milk medicine” [...]

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A love letter to Lucas, Age 4

8 February 2012 Lucas

My sweet Lucas, today you are FOUR years old! In the last few weeks and months, so many of our family and friends have commented on how much you’ve grown up recently. You’ve lost your pudgy toddler stance and are now growing long and lean like your oldest brother. Your face is still sweetly soft, [...]

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A love letter to Simon, age 8

1 February 2012 Simon

My dear, darling Simon, You, my middlest boy, are eight years old today. Of course, in your own mind you’ve been eight years old for at least as long as your older brother was that age. You may be the only eight year old boy I know who is dipping his toes in the ‘tween [...]

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Bedtime stories

7 January 2012 Ah, me boys

Tristan just asked me if he could read Lucas a bedtime story, instead of being read to by Beloved. These are the moments that make it all worthwhile. Blogged because I want to remember this one.

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