What's the Point?

I was trying to figure out a way to teach my three kids the importance of keeping clean, of properly washing their hands and their other parts too.

They stared at me blankly as I was explaining germs and bacteria, molds and viruses when suddenly I had an idea. Why don't we do an experiment?

Off we went in search of a slice of bread, a sealable clear plastic bag and a spray bottle full of water. I wiped the kitchen sink with the bread for effect, sprayed it lightly with some water and finally sealed it in the bag. As we put it in a dark nook out of reach of little hands, I told them we'd take a look at it in a few days to see what, if anything, happened.

Sure enough 72 hours later we had quite the scientific culture growing happily on the bread.

"See, what happens," I said "if we don't keep ourselves clean? So what have we learned?"

"Not to wipe our bums in the sink!" my wife Kathleen replied.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions

Ever have one of those moments when you want so much to try and avoid something that in doing so you end up creating a much bigger, messier problem?

It happened yesterday as I gave my son Milo a yogurt shake -- a really yummy one with frozen bananas, blueberries, mangoes, peaches and a cooked beet for added iron and a vibrant, kid-friendly colour. As I handed it to him I also handed him the standard warning not to spill, as it would stain his clothes.

Being the typical 4-year-old that he is, Milo quickly forgot the warning and moments later I caught him just millimetres away from wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!" I jumped in, trying to stop the act in progress.

Unfortunately, I startled my purple-moustached friend causing him to drop the cup and all its contents on the floor. Now I had purple shake on my pants, my shoes, Milo's pants, the mat on the floor, the floor, the cupboards on the other side of the kitchen. Everywhere but Milo's shirt sleeve!

As I tried to comfort Milo, upset that he had stained his clothes, I removed his messy pants and socks. And as I did, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Say It Ain't So ...

You can always count on a kid to remind you of your age. Here are some examples of how each of my kids has bruised my self-esteem:

My sweet 2 1/2-year-old daughter Willa was exploring my face one day.

"What dat on your lip, Mommy?"
"I don't know," I said. "What does it look like?"
"A eyebrow."

Another day, while sitting on my lap, 4-year-old Milo lifted my shirt up and patted my bare stomach.

"Mommy? Your tummy is full?" he asked.
"No," I replied.
"What happened to it?"

And finally ...

My then 5 1/2-year-old daughter Neva and I were cheek to cheek looking in the mirror, comparing our eye colour.

"They're blue and grey and green, Mommy," she said. "Just like yours."
"Yes, they're exactly the same colour." I replied.
"Except," she added, "mine don't have all those red lines."

So all you mothers out there, join me in declaring to our children: "You did this to me!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Try and Try Again!

As parents we encourage our children and sometimes push them to do things they think they can't. It's part of our job and it's part of their learning. But it doesn't end there, does it? Part of their learning is also to repeat what we've taught.

The other day I was holding 2 1/2-year-old Willa, as I often do, while I was making supper. At one point I told her I needed to put her down.

"Willa," I reasoned, "my arms are tired and I need to use the big knife. I can't hold you and make supper at the same time."

Her gentle and encouraging response: "You have to try!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

That'll Show Her ...

Some of you may remember the nuggets of truth about parenting that my husband Bob imparted several years ago. One of them was, "Get used to the idea that you will be outwitted by a 2-year-old." My 4-year-old son Milo showed his sister that the same can be said about being outwitted by a younger sibling.

One day we were all spelling simple words together and our oldest daughter Neva, who just turned 7 this week, was unimpressed by the attention Milo and 2 1/2-year-old Willa were getting. She needed to be a smarty-pants and one-up her brother.

"Okay, Milo," she challenged. "How do you spell baby?"

Milo responded, without hesitation, "W-I-L-L-A!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

The World According to Neva ...

My 7-year-old daughter started Grade 2 this fall. Mostly what they've been learning in the last 3 weeks has been review from last year. One of the subjects under review is Geography.

The other day Neva came across a children's map of Canada. It boldly and clearly marks the provinces, territories, capital cities and main bodies of water. Neva was excitedly looking it over recalling for her 4-year-old brother Milo some of the places she remembered. Here is what she taught Milo:

1. The capital of Manitoba is "Winsburg".


2. The northern-most bay, up Greenland way, is "Buffalo Bay".


3. North of the Northwest Territories and Beaufort Sea is "Ant Ocean".


4. Our newest territory is "North America".


5. And the western-most territory, bordering Alaska, is "Hong Kong".

As she drew her finger across the country, stopping at some of the places she remembered, she thought about where she'd like to visit if she were to travel across Canada.

"I would like to go ... to the US! Yeah, definitely the US.


For those who are unfamiliar with Canadian geography:

1. The capital of Manitoba is Winnipeg.


2. The northern-most bay, up Greenland way, is Baffin Bay.


3. North of the Northwest Territories and Beaufort Sea is the Arctic Ocean.


4. To Neva's credit, she has since remembered that our newest territory is
   Nunavut.


5. And the western-most territory, bordering Alaska, is the Yukon.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Champagne Dreams ...

It's funny how kids get things mixed up in their heads. Like the time our 7-year-old daughter Neva was talking about someone in a coffin and said, "You know, in the esophagus." It took Bob a minute to figure out she meant "sarcophagus". (How she would remember either of those words is beyond me!)

The other day, we were watching a program on The Discovery Channel about hot air balloons. Neva had seen it before and was excitedly telling us what was happening.

"When they land they drink wine. And when they blow up the balloon, they fill it up with champagne!"

"They don't put champagne in the balloon," I corrected. "They drink champagne when they land."

"No, that's what they said. They fill it with champagne." She insisted.

Again, Bob clued in: "Propane," he said. "They heat the air in the balloon with propane."

"Yeah, that's it!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Odds Are ...

This morning I think I woke up on the pessimistic side of the bed. I was feeling especially tired, so my husband Bob asked our oldest daughter, Neva, to get breakfast for the little ones. In her almost-seven short years, Neva has, more often than not, proven to be a little less than cooperative when asked to help out in a situation like this. I had my doubts.

Everything sounded cheery in the kitchen as she got bowls and asked 4-year-old Milo to get the jug of milk from the fridge.

"I'll bet you a quarter she spills the milk on the floor," I wagered.

"I'll bet you a dollar she doesn't clean it up," Bob countered.

Wouldn't you know it, she proved us both wrong.

And that is a bet I don't mind losing!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

W-W-W-What's That?

With my 4-year-old son Milo starting Junior Kindergarten, I've been helping him learn alphabet sounds. We'll pick a letter and look for things that begin with that letter. "B-B-B-Book starts with B."

One day he picked the letter Y. So I pointed to a yellow fish on the shower curtain and said, "Y-Y-Y-Yellow begins with Y."

"No!" Milo corrected. "Y-Y-Y-Lellow!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Under Construction ...

It's newsletter day today and we weren't sure this issue would make it out. The city has finally begun construction on our street. We spent most of our morning watching the big excavator dig up the boulevard and the pavement, dump trucks filled with dirt and enormous flat bed tractor trailers arriving and unloading the giant concrete sewer pipes. It's busy, noisy, exciting and we get a kick out of watching it.

Can you imagine how much less work we're going to get done when the kids all get home from school and want to watch too?!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Routine? What Routine?

It's been crazy in our house the last week or so. Swimming lessons are over, day camp has wrapped up and the woman down the street who looks after our two youngest from time to time is taking a three week, kids free vacation.

It wasn't too long ago when we had all three kids at home all day and we managed for the most part. Then, last year, my oldest daugher Neva started school full-time and the prospect of uninterrupted time to do what it is we do, seemed to be much closer.

With three long weeks of summer vacation still ahead of us, reality has set in. We have joined that league of parents who wait with great anticipation for that first day of school.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Gotta Hand it to Him ...

I learned a good discipline motto from a close friend of mine when my oldest daughter was a toddler. Whenever her little one would hit, she'd tell him, "Hands are for helping."

I've been using this gem for 6 years now and all my kids have heard it. In fact I use it daily. I've even added extras ("...and holding and hugging") and listed the exclusions ("...not hitting or hurting," and, most recently, "... or pinching or scratching...").

Until recently, this rule has gone unquestioned, uncontested. The other day, I was scolding my 4-year-old son Milo (who’s had his fair share of these warnings!) for scratching his sister in retribution for some minor transgression.

Milo, you know hands are for helping. Not hurting or hitting or pinching or scratching."

He looked at his hands and clearly saw they had done nothing wrong. "What are fingers for?" he asked. "Poking?"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

The Piano ...

On the other side of my office wall stands our piano. Over the years the cost of maintaining it has gone to diapers and new shoes, but it still sounds clear and bright albeit slightly out of tune. Over those same years as my kids grew older the songs played on that piano went from classical masterpieces to a more and more discordant mishmash of notes played randomly by little fingers and fists.

So when I heard a beautiful melody the other day as I was working in my office, I sat back listening, thinking my wife Kathleen was playing. I thought it was a variation on Beethoven's Fur Elise as most of the notes of the melody seemed to be there.

Slowly I went to my door and peaked around the corner and to my surprise saw it was my 4-year-old son Milo doing the playing. "Good job, Milo!" I exclaimed when he stopped. To which he responded by pounding relentlessly on all the keys at once while singing in his now famous screeching voice.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Multi-Lingual ...

Where we live, we have the benefit of receiving both Canadian and US children's television programming. So our kids are exposed to French and Spanish words on many of the pre-school shows.

One day my daughter Neva and her little friend were discussing how many languages they speak. When you're almost 7 years old, being able to count to 10 in both French and Spanish counts as two languages, so they were up to three, including English.

Then Neva excitedly asked, "Mommy! How does Daddy talk to Oma's sister?"

"In German," I answered.

"I know four languages," she exclaimed, "'cuz I almost speak German!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Still Singing ...

On Tuesday I wrote how my children love to sing, especially my 4-year-old son Milo, whose singing talent is the envy of the neighbors. Recently, Milo has come to have his first public "commercial" performance.

It came about the other day as my wife Kathleen was grocery shopping with Milo at our local supermarket. Always the energetic type, Milo was running from one aisle to the next. It was in the paper products section that Milo suddenly stopped. Pointing to the toilet paper on the shelf, he burst into song, loudly singing the "Charmin Ultra" toilet paper jingle he's heard on television.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

I've Got the Music in Me ...

My wife studied music for the better part of her life and it led her to a degree in Music Theory and Composition. And coming from a very musical family that stretches back generations it's not surprising that Kathleen has those musical genes.

So it stands to reason that my children should likely have similar talents. And for the most part they do. All three of them love to sing, love music and especially love to perform. Both my 6 1/2 year-old daughter Neva and 2 1/2 year-old Willa are not bad. Willa often sings melodies in tune.

It is my 4 year-old son Milo however, who really stands out. He sings with such bravado and power that you can hear him halfway down the block. Whether it’s a children's classic or the latest pop song he's hooked on, Milo screeches and shrieks his butchered melody and made up lyrics with abandon, convinced he’s a Rock Star. Which goes to prove that even with good genes, talent doesn't always come naturally.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Since I Saw You Last ...

My two-year-old daughter and I were visiting our landlord the other day and it just so happened that her brother was in town at the same time. It's been close to a year since Greg visited his sister last and it was good seeing him again.

Though she had met Greg during his last visit, Willa being just one at that time, had no memory of their previous acquaintance. But he's such a character: young at heart, outgoing and boisterous. Little wonder Willa warmed up to him instantly.

We were seated in front of Greg, Willa on my lap, when he suddenly turned to her and said: "My Willa, you've grown three feet since I saw you last". Without missing a beat, Willa raised her legs in the air and pointing to her feet said: "No, I two feet... see ... one, two".

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Mosquito Bites

My 6 1/2 year-old daughter Neva has been complaining of itchy mosquito bites this last week, asking me to "Scratch my back, Mommy," and "A little to the left... Ooh, more... Ah! That's the spot!"

The other day, however, she decided they weren't mosquito bites at all.

"I know why I've been so itchy. I've been cold, so I must have alot of frost bites."

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Schools Out for Summer ...

It's been a week since my 6 1/2 year-old daughter Neva started summer vacation. No more waking her up in the morning or rushing through breakfast to get to school on time. No more frantic searches for overdue library books, missing shoes or lost homework. Morning's pace has slowed, at least until she starts summer art camp.

For the first few days Neva kept busy doing all sorts of things. She visited some of her schoolmates, dug holes in the garden looking for worms, watched TV, and went rollerblading.

But this morning it seemed that she might have run out of things to do. As I stood at the front door watching, Neva meandered around the yard with her butterfly net catching those plastic garden pots that store-bought transplants come in.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

It's Like Pulling Teeth ...

For a 6 1/2 year-old, my oldest daughter is quite enterprising. As you may have noticed she has her own little online store that sells her artwork on t-shirts and cards and such. She hasn't really sold anything but after 6 months, she still tells everyone about it. (See Neva & Daddy deSIGN on the left menu of this blog - the cards are especially nice).

Then last month as I was readying my garden, Neva took the seeds from a green pepper and planted every one of them in seed flats she borrowed from me. Her plan is to sell the peppers in the fall to raise money for Heart and Stoke research. Last year, she set up a lemonade stand in front of our house and raised a lot of money for the same cause.

But it's her latest enterprise that has me a little concerned. She's at the age where losing her baby teeth still requires a visit from the Tooth Fairy. A baby tooth falls out, she puts it under her pillow and the next morning, the tooth is gone and in its place is a shiny coin or two.

Now that shouldn't be a problem, you say. And I'd have agreed with you until I caught her the other morning wiggling one baby tooth after the other, from the left side of her mouth to the right, across the top row then back along the bottom.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Blowin' in the Wind ...

The sky quickly turned dark grey as the storm clouds moved in and I knew we were in for our first major thunderstorm of the season. I was sitting on the front porch watching my 2-year-old daughter Willa play when, with the now rumbling sky, I beckoned here to join me.

Within moments, there were loud claps of thunder one after the other and lightning flashed across the sky illuminating everything around us. Willa was filled with excitement and trepidation. She's still too young to remember the thunderstorms of last summer, I thought to myself.

As the storm grew stronger Willa became agitated. The thunder and lightening must be scaring her, so I suggested we go inside. Strong gusts of wind were blowing and as we walked to the door, I realized that Willa was holding the top of her head.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Me no want my hair blow ‘way," she nervously answered.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Upon Reflection ...

We took a break for most of the month of May. We needed some time to collect ourselves. It's a busy household with three little kids and sometimes it gets a little overwhelming. We watched some movies and played together. Got the vegetable garden mostly planted and my wife Kathleen almost got the laundry piles down to a manageable size.

It was during this most recent "time with the family" break that I once again took time to sit back and reflect on what it means to be a father. Now long time readers might remember that in the past I have come up with a few Rules of Parenting when I was left to ponder and this time, I again have come up with yet another one to add to the list.

So for those of you not familiar with my Parenting Rules, here they are, listed in chronological order:

1. Accept the fact there is no way of escaping the inevitable ... that somewhere, sometime, you will be outwitted by your child. Again.

2. Understand that it is our duty as parents to give our children something to talk about in therapy.

3. Remember that the best a parent can do is to teach our children what little we remember of those things we seem to think actually worked out okay.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther

Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Everyone has a Green Thumb ...

I love the spring. It's the time of year that I finally leave the house after cowering from the cold of winter. The snow has given way to green grass, the trees bud and flowers grow wildly. It’s when I make my way into my vegetable garden with children in tow.

Together we dig and rake and collect. A little compost here, a little straw there. Stones go in the big yellow bucket and weeds go in the wheelbarrow. And as I loosen the soil, all three of them follow behind me, walking or jumping, even rolling in the dirt that will soon be as compacted as it was before I began.

As I rake the beds flat, my son Milo makes it a point to demonstrate to his little sister Willa how not to walk through the garden beds, a lesson equally lost on both of them.

Soon my oldest daughter Neva is tirelessly digging for worms leaving holes everywhere. She collects them into a pail -- all 134 of them -- telling me about each one she finds. "Found another one!"

In another day or so, I'll be back out with my entourage planting seeds. Then I’ll just have to wait to see what grows where after my pint-sized crew finish rearranging things.

Happy Sweeping,

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Home + Work = Homework

In my daughter Neva's Grade One class, they are learning about compound nouns. On one of the worksheets she brought home, she had to combine the words of two pictures (a picture of a foot and of a ball to make the word "football"). Another worksheet had her doing math-like problems, adding two words to make a compound word (pig + pen = pigpen) or dividing a compound word into two separate words (raincoat = rain + coat).

On the last worksheet, she was given a sentence from which she had to put together the compound word. Here were her answers:

A room with a bed in it is a ... "bedroom".
A bird that is blue is a ... "bluebird".
A man made of snow is a ... "snowman".
A horse that can race is a ... "fast horse".

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther,
Editor, ContestHound.com

On the Road Again ...

We took advantage of the Easter holiday weekend to make a trip to see our family who we haven't seen since before the New Year. After packing an overnight bag, the five of us piled into our van and headed off on the 2 1/2 hour trip.

As soon as we get to the highway, the kids insist I put the "road trip" CD into the player. It's the Canadian cast recording of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" with Donny Osmond as Joseph.

Not a mile down the road, my 6-year old daughter Neva, 3 1/2-year old son Milo and 2-year old Willa are all singing along. For the next hour or so, they sing ... as loud as they can and totally out of tune. They make up the words and occasionally get one or two right. And all the while, I see them in my rear view mirror, convinced they are Broadway stars.

Happy Sweeping,

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Dave the Landlord ...

Last night, in the middle of making dinner, the drain under the kitchen sink burst ... again. And despite my husband Bob's valiant attempts to stare and scowl at it, it just didn't fix itself. So we called our landlord, who said he'd be over in the morning to fix it.

As the sun rose the next day, the promise of having his good friend Dave the landlord come to fix our sink, my 3 1/2-year-old son Milo excitedly got himself dressed entirely in his "Bob the Builder" clothes. He put on the "Bob the Builder" underwear and pants, the sweatshirt and socks and finally his construction hat. And off he went, our own little "Bob the Builder" billboard, to help Dave the landlord.

(For those of you who don't know Bob the Builder, he is one of today's most popular animated pre-school programs on television starring Bob, a likeable fella who owns a construction company).

Happy Sweeping,

Kathleen Gunther

Editor, ContestHound.com

The Self-Portait ...

Quite often over the past 5 years, I've bragged about my oldest daughter Neva's artistic abilities. You can even see a few of her works in our online store (see Neva's deSIGNS at top right of this newsletter). As it happens, the other day I was stunned by my youngest daughter's creative endeavors.

You'll be as surprised as I was that at the tender age of 2, my daughter Willa painted herself. She painted her legs and then her tummy and finally her face. And I tell you one could really see that it looked like her.

Even more amazing was that she did so by hand. No brushes. No help. In fact, no paper either. Not even paint. No, just a ripe avocado squished up in her hands and smeared all over herself, head to toe.

Happy Sweeping,

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Boo-Boo Blues

After careful study, using my 2-year-old daughter Willa as the subject, I have come up with the following guidelines on how and when to use bandages.

For "boo-boo" that have made your child cry:

1. Use a new, brightly colored bandage.
2. If crying continues, try using a bigger bandage with a different picture.
3. If the cut is barely noticeable, repeat Step 1 every couple of hours for the next few days.

For a "boo-boo" that has you convinced you need new glasses:

1. Simply hand the child the entire box of bandages.
2. Add bandages to the shopping list.

When all else fails:

Threaten to take the child to the emergency room doctor now that it's 11:30 at night and the kid has complained unrelentingly about it for the past 4 hours, as what little patience you had a while ago has been completely drained away and you've decided there and then never to have more children and you struggle not to run out in the street in your underwear screaming wildly just so the police will lock you up for a night of peace and quiet ...

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Do You See What I See?

I turned off the lights and crawled into bed with my 6 year-old daughter Neva and 3 year-old son Milo. As I tried to get them to settle down for sleep, I quietly asked, "What do you see when you close your eyes?"

"Oh, I know!" Neva jumped in excitedly. "I see a truck holding up some wood. And it's wrapped in a big orange wrapper. And they're taking the wood out, two at a time. Some are wrapped in blue -- it must be extra special wood."

Gee. All I see is spots!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Running Truths ...

As children, we were told to always tell the truth yet as adults we edit the truth as we see fit. "Does this dress make me look fat?" You know what my answer is going to be don't you.

So now my 3 1/2-year old son Milo has of late been misappropriating the truth. I suppose all children start to experiment with the facts at some time or another, bending them to their needs or wishes. So, he's begun lying. Not very well mind you, but nevertheless, the truth has lately become a commodity.

It might be his eyes that give him away as they dart back and forth, every once in a while meeting mine as if to see if I'm buying into his story. Maybe it's the faint smile where the corners of his mouth curl up while he tries explaining himself. But most likely, it's the fact that once he finishes spinning his web of deceit, he simply runs away.

The world was flat until somebody reasoned that it wasn't. The glass is half full, no it's half empty. Our Governments would never mislead us and every sale saves you money. All of which leads me to wonder about the truth. Is it that lying is bad or is being a bad liar just not good? No wonder Milo runs away.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Writer in Residence ...

Hello everyone my name is Catherine and over the last few days I have been in town visiting my Aunt Kathleen, Uncle Bob, Neva, Milo and Willa. Aunt Kathleen, Milo and Willa came to pick me up from the train station. After saying hello to everyone Milo decided to take off his mitt. As I was putting it back on for him he told me that it goes on his left hand and he told me which hand was his left and which was his right. I was kind of surprised he knew left from right at his age. I don't even think I knew my left from my right till I was at least 6 or 7. As we were driving to their house Aunt Kathleen and I were talking and Milo says "Mommy...I want to talk to Ratherine. Ratherine?......." But that was pretty much all he wanted to say.

As I walked in through the door Neva ran to me with big arms and gave me a huge hug. We watched TV for a bit and Neva told me which shows she disliked on Treehouse TV, it was pretty much all the shows.

Later that night, as all 3 kids got out of the bath and into their pyjamas, Milo asked me to read him a story. He picked Chicka Chicka Boom Boom [by John Archembault and Bill Martin Jr.]. Aunt Kathleen told me that he could probably read it to me, and he did! He even sounded sad when the letters were sad.

The next day was busy, we went to the University and then came back to make smores before I left. It was a lot of fun coming out to see them all, I hadn’t seen them since Christmas. It was kinda funny being pulled in 3 different directions. It made me feel good to see how much each one wanted to play with me. Milo with his puzzles and trucks, Neva with her story writing and coloring and Willa wanting to play with her dolls.

Thanks so much for having me.

Catherine or as Milo likes to say "Ratherine",
Guest Writer, ContestHound.com

There is a Season ...

In our part of the world, now that it's the middle of March, school-aged children everywhere have an entire week off from higher learning. Many have found that their parents have also taken time off, packed too many of their belongings and stuffed themselves and their children into some form of transportation in hopes of finding better weather.

With the exception that we can still see a foot of snow on any given day, the weather came to us and we found ourselves basking in the warmth of an otherwise perfect spring day.

It wasn't the weather that gave away the pending arrival of spring. Nor was it the smell of the soil as it thawed or even the longer days. That there was no school for my 6 year-old daughter Neva wasn't even a consideration and if any of the early spring flowers had poked their heads out of the earth, it was lost on me.

No, what signaled that the turn of seasons was near came as I sat watching my three children and their little friends running around the yard barefoot and in T-shirts, covered in layers of mud and dirt.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

A Star is Born ...

The other day my husband Bob and I attended a school assembly in which our oldest daughter Neva's Grade One class performed a few songs and a number of short plays for the rest of the school. The week of the concert, Neva had very excitedly told us how they rehearsed with "real live" microphones -- "for real, Mom!" - for the plays. But knowing my daughter as I do, I had my suspicions about the need for one.

And so it was, Bob and I found ourselves at the back of the gymnasium with a few other parents there to witness the confusion that is inherent to a gathering of twenty or more 6- and 7-year-olds. It quickly became evident the need for the microphone as child after child shyly spoke their muffled lines to no one in particular. Those who weren’t so shy had their lips pressed so close against the waffled orb that we couldn’t understand them anyway. And then there was Neva.

Neva shouted her lines so clearly into the microphone, I’m sure you could hear her three streets over. And when it came time to sing -- their voices amplified only by natural enthusiasm -- Neva’s voice was the one that could be heard over and above the piano and the other voices in the choir. Clear to the back of the gym and, thankfully, more in tune with the choir than she is when singing solo at home. Her expression was glorious - cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling - her spirit raw, unfettered. She was in her element.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

What Are the Odds?

My daughter Neva seems to have somewhat of a lucky streak. At the young age of 6, she has already won prizes in about half of the raffles held at her school -- various cakes, easter eggs, a backpack.

The other day we received some scratch-and-save coupons in the mail for a local restaurant. If you presented the coupon to your server, you could save anywhere from $5 to $50 off the bill for your meal. We see these types of scratch cards more and more these days. Department stores, fitness clubs and now, apparently, restaurants all try to lure you in with the promise of big savings that you ultimately never see. I don't care about a 5% savings off my $30 purchase. That barely buys me a coffee for my efforts. The mystery and temptation around them, not to mention the "forbidden fruit" of scratching the card before you make your purchase, just frustrates me and I tend to ignore them and let the kids play with them.

And so it was with the coupons that came the other day for the local restaurant. Neva grabbed a penny and began unmasking the mystery. It was pure delight for her and pure torture for me.

Both cards revealed a $50 coupon!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Earth to Milo. . . Come in, Milo!

There are times when I wonder if our children are really on the same planet as us. My 3 1/2-year-old son Milo can be so mellow and mild-mannered at times, you wonder if he has any concept of what is going on around him.

One morning when I took Neva, my 6-year-old, to school, I left the other two children at home with my husband Bob. I said goodbye to Milo, who was standing watching television at the time. When I returned 15 minutes later, Milo was still in front of the TV, standing in the exact spot I had left him.

"Hi, Milo. What are you watching?" I asked.

"Dora," came his reply, eyes glued to the set.

I left the room and went about starting my morning chores. About 5 minutes later, the show had ended and Milo came to the kitchen where I was doing dishes.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, excitedly. "You're home!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

A Few Whiskers Short of a Catwalk ...

My 6-year-old daughter Neva insists on wearing her shoes on the wrong feet. She feels they look better that way. And she'll put on a summer dress in the dead of winter because the colour is to her liking. When it comes to colour co-ordination, Neva wears so many different clothes at the same time that she looks like a painter's palette after a frenzied artistic spurt.

Now Milo, who happily announces that he is now 3 1/2, wears his shoes in the house, but is hard pressed to remember to put them on when he goes outside. He does have his own couture moments. He'll rifle through two drawers of clothes to find anything with "Bob the Builder" on them and will wear everything he finds.

As for 2-year-old Willa, she's simply more interested in taking her clothes and diaper off.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

She Nose Shopping ...

When my oldest daughter Neva began speaking I remember marveling at all she had to say. Later as she began to form short sentences, I was regularly amused at the ideas she would connect together.

A few years later, my son Milo would begin to do the same and I was still enthralled. As if I had never before experienced a child learning to express themselves. And now my two-year-old daughter Willa is at that same stage. And I am still amazed by the coupling of unrelated thoughts that somehow make sense.

Willa and I were sitting together the other day, just enjoying each other's company when I tickled her nose and asked her:

"What's that?"

"My nose," she replied.

"Where did you get it?" I asked.

"Grocery store!" came her reply.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

"Have You Reached a Verdict?"

Among the cobwebs there sits a deep shelf above the cupboard by our front door. Its contents look down upon us with suspicious eyes, wary of what may come next. And my children stare back blankly, the pain of their losses evident on their furrowed brows, wounded tears still streaming down their cheeks.

It is here where toys are condemned to serve their sentence for their indiscretions. In one way or another, each toy has incited anarchy, a lawlessness whereby my children are forced to abandon the virtues of sharing, of kindness, of civility.

And so, for what may seem like a lifetime to a child, the worst offenders are banished to their prison awaiting our pardon as they quietly reflect on whether they will once again be brought back into our children's world, or find themselves being quietly kicked out that front door.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

You Ought to Be in Pictures ...

About a week ago, a neighbor of ours had taken a photo of my youngest daughter, 2 year-old Willa, as she puddled around wearing his boxing gloves. He enlarged it, then framed it and gave it to her for her second birthday. Willa was thrilled, and after hugging it for an afternoon, she gave it to me. So, I quickly tacked it on the wall in my office before anyone else thought of a better place for it.

As I was hanging it I was looking around at all the photos I have of my kids scattered here and there. I noticed for the first time that they are all the same 5" x 7" size. In fact, most of the photos we have displayed are that size.

And for two day it's really bothered me. Maybe because they are growing so quickly and I want to hold on to them just the way they are for a little bit longer. I really can't say, but I know I want to hang bigger photos of my kids.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Dinner Lament ...

We've three little chairs,
One for each of our cares,
In colors of red and blue.

Each child takes a seat,
When it comes time to eat,
Around their table askew.

Our youngest leaves first,
Complaining of thirst,
As she quickly marches away.

Our eldest declares,
As she stands on her chair,
Her dislike of tonight's entree.

Which leaves only one,
Our cheeky young son,
Who doesn't eat much anyway.

Each one leaves their plate,
In its uneaten state,
Their behavior in disarray.

Then I reach for the wine,
And Kathleen and I dine,
A mother and father alone.

It's evenings like this,
That in time we will miss,
When our children are finally grown.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Wearing Down the Dressers ...

The other day, I saw my wife Kathleen running all over our house chasing my two-year -old daughter Willa, who really didn't want to get dressed. This usually is not an issue, but Kathleen and I needed to pop across the street to retrieve some office furniture our neighbor had given us.

As things quickly degenerated, Kathleen naturally became more and more frustrated. Willa of course turned from a gleeful baby to a shrieking demonic apparition. Thinking I might be helpful, I gave it a shot. Bad idea. Willa was just not going to let us get her dressed.

We finally gave up trying and went outside for a breather and to figure out how to get across the street and pick up the furniture before someone else steals it from their porch. Moments later, my 6-year-old daughter Neva opened the door, a triumphant look on her face. And Willa followed behind, fully dressed.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Dog Daze ...

As many of you know, our household functions somewhere between the edges of chaos and anarchy. So naturally when my mother asked me if we could take her dog while she went of a vacation for a month, I jumped at the opportunity.

The first day was a little rough for all of us, but by the second day, my mother's dog regained her appetite and started to fit right in. She came to enjoy sharing her meals with my two-year-old daughter Willa who regularly ate the kibble and made off with dog's treats to return empty handed.

At 11 years old, the dog was quite set in her ways. So I was surprised at her tolerance with being mauled by the kids for days on end. She really took things in stride. She wasn't bothered by my 6-year-old daughter Neva regularly picking her up like you would a cat nor did she care when 3 1/2 year-old Milo and/or Willa would use her as a pillow.

So when my mother called to check in to see how we all were making out, I let her know everything was fine, her dog was fitting in quite nicely. I did neglect to mention that on the first day, we lost the dog briefly, and that a few days back, someone in our house had tried to paint it a nice shade of blue.

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com