one hour wasted

It's 7:30 am. I have been at work for an hour. 30 minutes of that time was spent waiting for my PC to log on. Great! It's Tuesday and I can't log on...should I go straight to HR? (Tuesdays are traditional pink-slip day around here...)

Finally got the new security patch downloaded and managed to boot up - but everything I need to do is inaccessible. Files cannot be found. Printer has been removed and cannot be re-installed. Looks like there is a network problem!

To top it off, EVERYTHING is on fire today! We are very serious in this office about our jobs! We believe that ensuring each of our 400 stores has enough underwear to sell is equivalent to brain surgery on the urgency scale. (note sarcasm)

Preparing for a meeting that is sure to be eviscerating. Think I'll bring a baggie to put the pieces of myself into after I am shredded.

On my proposed demotion? No way. It will not fly. Boss spoke about their plan for me - grooming for promotion. What is it about no they do not understand? Apparently I am either just being coy and underplaying my ability, or I'm just plain freaky. Who doesn't want to climb the corporate ladder?

ME!

accessories

My youngest - who believes that accessories are necesscary for all occcasions - including hockey!

photp Sunday delay - playdate woes

It started when one of the girls in 6's class wanted to come for a playdate. Worked it out with her mom for yesterday. Another girl wnated to come to and begged me to work it out with her mom. So arranged...but I hate 3's! So I invited another girl to join in - the most mature, girl in 6's group of ffriends - a lovely child.

Friday - child 2 is sick and can't come. #$%^. Back to 3 kids. Saturday morning, sick child's mom calls - she's feeling better. Whew. back to 4. then, 4th child's parents call. She's sick. Back to 3. ahhhh!

6 took 2 karate classes in the morning. We had a talk about the 2 girls who were coming and how they liked very differrent things, and how important it was to make sure they were both involved in whatever as going on. The first girl was to arrive at 1pm. She showed up right on time. 6 was a mess. Wanted to play with the rats. This girl DOES NOT LIKE RATS! 6 can't drop it. Tantrum. Upstairs sulking. Her friend is stupid - she just wants to stand there and look at the stupid bird. (Apparently stupid was the adjective of the day)

6 continued with her single-minded determination that they would play with rats. Convinced them to go skating. 6 is a speed demon - an adventurer on the ice. Wild, reckless, jumping, spinning, crashing. Her friend wears figure skates. Stupid. Her friend can skate on one foot. Stupid. 6 brags she is better. 6 is now completely out of control - mean mouthed and obnoxious. Her friend sas she can call her parents to pick her up anytime.

The other friend shows up. Comes out on the rink. She is not a skater. 6 is grabbing her legs and arms, knocking her off balance. I can not get her off the ice - she's too fast and too big to fight with. She is zoned out and will not listen. Feels like disaster to me!

I got on the ice and distracted 6. Play tag. Let her take out her hositlity and energy on me. We all played tag for about 30 minutes. The kids wanted to go inside. They decided to play with the rats. Upstairs went the 3. Played really well for 2 hours.

Whew.

I do not understand how to get through to 6 about her behaviour. After - last night - we talked. She understood that she was over the top and inappropriate. She just did not know how to shake off the mood.

More to ponder. How to help? I see now that the teachers must see at school and understand their concern...

thinking...

if only...

6 hadn't dropped the damed digital camera on the floor, necessitating a 7 week trip to the repair shop,I might have had some very cute pics to post!

Valentines day is a HUGE event around here. The kids can't figure out why the whole family doesn't get together for a turkey dinner on such an auspicious occasion!

They went to school armed with boxes of specially chosen valentines and little goody bags for their friends. As is tradition, they had to wear special Valentines shirts they made. We have done a number of things in the past - a class picture ironed onto a t-shirt, their own computer clip-art creations...this year they decided to draw hearts and print each classmates name inside the heart. We used washable markers with the hope that oxyclean would remove the markers rendering the shirts white again...They both did a great job and were so proud of their work - I would have liked to take a picture before the end of the day. By bedtime last night, both shirts looked watercoloured, letters bleeding into puddles of muddy colour. 4 drooled all over hers - she's not usually given to drool, but I suppose the anticipation of all those heart-shaped chocolate goodies made her salivate; and a rat peed all over the front of 6!

Ah well, they both had good days. We're a few steps ahead of last week!

a spelling list

Life has an interesting way of timing things. Just yesterday I wrote a comment on Inger's blog about my kids and tehir birth families - how they were unaware of their siblings. It is difficult to know when they are ready for information, and I have been anxious about withholding information from 6 about her 2 siblings.

Her spelling list this week included family nouns - mother, father, sister, brother etc. She was writing sentences for each of the spelling words and came to the word brother. "I do not have a brother." she said...then "Hmm, well, I assume I don't have a brother, but we don't really know do we?" "What do you mean?", I asked. "What if 'K' had another baby and did that again?"

I know that 'did that' means gave the child up for adoption. With the question out there, I cannot lie. So I explained the fact she haas a brother and a sister - both older than her. They were not placed for adoption, but they do not live with her birthmom. She asked their names, their ages and whether they were brown or white. She asked where they lived. I told her all I knew. Tense - waiting for the response...

Arms flew up in the air like a football touchdown. "Yea!", she said "I got to be with you!"

Whew - for now...

This is only the beginning. I'll have to watch for another opportunity to open up for discussion. The initial hurdle is over, but I know my girl will be churning this new information around in her mind. Her teacher should know. Who knows how this will come out? But at least another piece of her story is out.

And on we go.

Summer

Until I was 12, we spent every summer at the cottage Grandpa built. 5 kids - my brother, sister, me and my 2 cousins. This is the 5 of us at the beach. In the background is the little green VW bug that my mom used to have packed and ready to go on hte last day of school. We'd hop in the car and take off for the 2+ hour drive to the cottage. Summers were the best!

The property was not on the water - in fact it was quarter mile walk to a public beach but that mattered little to us. We spent the summers all together - a family of 5 sibliings with my mom and my aunt. My father and uncle remained in the city working, and my grandparents came up only once every couple of weeks - on Wednesdays - my grandfather's day off from work.

Even as adults, all of us 'kids' remember it as the best time of our childhoods. It was a simple life. We spent each day from morning til dinner time on the beach. We swam, built sand castles, made waterways through the sand and swam some more on 'our' beach that we shared with a handful of other families who were regulars there. Evenings were spent playing on the swingset grandpa had installed out front - or just exploring. We climbed rocks. We climbed trees. We had adventures in places we discovered and 'owned' by virtue of discovery. We caught frogs - somany frogs that we went into business, selling them for fishing bait!

On rainy days, my mom would work with us on crafts - or we'd play school - pencilling in workbooks preparing for the next grade. We built a tepee in the back and hung out there...

Life was easy and relaxed. I can remember the smell of of the cottage when we first opened it each year, the feel of the soft sand out the front, and the sense of peace that was ours for 8 weeks each year.

What a wonderful experience. We were luck kids!

Act II

6 had a great day at school yesterday. Her letters were delivered and received well. The principal of this school is wonderful - left 6 with a great feeling of pride about her decision to write.

It was the 100th day of school and she left armed with the things she had chosen to represent 100. The class was asked to bring a collection of 100 ... Her choices included 100 pieces of Lego built into a tow truck pulling a 3 wheeled car, 100 drops of water ini a small cup, and 100 beads (just in case she was asked to sort or count her 100 items). She loved the fact she was unique.

On the other hand, 4 had a rough day - and apparently a rough week so far. Daycare reported she had a time out at school for being rude to a parent-helper in the class. She has not been listening at daycare either. Guess what she did last night?

Apology letter writing.

She began her first letter Dear XXX. I asked her if she knew what a comma was. "No" she answered. Ever helpful, I explained that a comma tells the reader to take a breath. She seemed to understand. She laboured through phonetic spelling of a few more words when she asked "Mommy, can I write another comma now?" "Why do you think you need a comma here?"
"I need to take another breath!" she replied with a gasp.

Sometimes its hard not to laugh!

a call from the school

I could feel something brewing. 6 has been increasingly explosive at home. She has been trying for 2 months to change her reputation at school. This means walking away from situations where she gets angry and feels the need to respond by getting physically or verbally aggressive. I could tell she was spending so much time repressing her feelings at school, she was unable to hold it together at home.

Yesterday the principal called. Seems at recess, 6 was told she could not join in a game and responded by writing a hate letter to the boy who excluded her. (graphics included) This is an improvement - believe it or not! She did not lash out physically! However, needless to say the school personnel were not impressed. She was not suspended, but the note was sent home for me to deal with.

Left work early to pull her from school before 3:30. I wanted to have some time with her without the interference of her nosy younger sister. She was truly contrite and listed many different ways she could have handled the situation. Her biggest concern was that all the hard work she had done to turn her reputation around was undone by one action.

There are days when I just don't want to be reasonable! I understand how easy it would be for parents of challenging children to vioce their disappointment and anger in a way that would crush the child's spirit.

Yesterday though, I held it together. We talked about the feelings that were at the root of the problem, the impact her note had on the boy in question and how his feelings were hurt. The principles of Karate came into the discussion. We reviewed her student creeds and what they meant - how they could be applied in this situation. We talked about the need to ask an adult for help when you are having difficulty solving a problem and how asking for help does not mean you failed. Finallly, she wrote a letter of apology to both the boy she offended and a letter to the principal confirming that she was listening to his advise and understood it.

I did not cancel her playdate on Saturday. It just felt wrong to punish a child who has social difficulties by removing an opportunity to socialize in a one on one situation.

I wonder if I am doing the best for this girl. Maybe I am too soft and I need to follow Dr. Phil's commando parenting approach. Certainly my mother believes I talk to much. Her solution? Spank her. Can't bring myself to do it.

So this morning she is off to school - today is a new day. Back to the reputation changing effort. Make your outside match your inside. You are a great kid - let people see the kindness and caring.

And I am holding my breath - hoping all will be well today.

What not to be

This is the only picture I have of my father. It was taken in about 1977. In the true photo, he is framed by my mother on one side, and my sister on the other. A happy family photo.

It was taken in the kitchen of the home my parents bought when, after 5 years of separation, they decided to make a go of it again. Sold each of their houses and moved into a house my father had bought on speculation. My sister and I were convinced to move in with them to create the family we never knew growing up. My brother chose not to join in. It lasted 18 days.

After 3 days of feigned bliss, old patterns of relating reared their ugly head, and mom was drop-kicked out the door.

My father is responsible in many ways for who I am today. He was a wonderful example of the kind of human being I never wanted to be. Materialistic, dishonest, scheming, unpredictable and violent, he reduced my mother to a heap of depression and inertia. Her own troubles with him made her unable to step in where necesssary and protect her childern. Twenty years after their final break up, and 2 years after his sudden death, she is finally outgrowing his impact.

For years I kept trying to form a relationship with him that did not have criticism and anger at its core. Each attempt failed. When my daughter came home, I made the decision to sever my relationship with him. I wanted to protect her from him, and from the quivering mess I became when I was in contact with him.

At his funeral, I was in the odd positioin of being surrounded by people who were experiencing the raw grief of recent loss, whereas I was past that point - having grieved the relationship that would never be 4 years earlier.

To this day, if I see someone who looks like him, I can feel the physiological response. Colour drains from my face, my heart races, and panic sets in. The knowledge that he is gone does not stop the immediate reaction.

I feel no anger toward him. Life is what it is. Each experience has something to teach you. From him, I learned how different I am - how strong and resiliant I am, and how to always be aware of the possibility that by virtue of genetics, I could be what he was.