I know I've said this many times before, and you've probably heard it from other parents too, but sometimes I just don't understand my kids. It's not what they're asking I don't get, it's why they're asking it!
Our youngest, 3 1/2-year-old Willa picks up so much from her older siblings, it can be mind-boggling. And yet, she still has an immature thought process. Today she was quizzing me on mixing colours. What does blue and green make? What do red and white make? What do light pink, red, orange and black make? (I told her some sort of brown.) And then came the stumper, which she even prefaced.
"Dit id gonna be a twicky one! What did one dog tay to the other cat?"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The World According to Neva ...
This year Neva learned a bit about the history of Canada in school. One day she was imparting her knowedge upon her younger siblings:
"Do you know what Canada Day means?" she asked, not really expecting or waiting for an answer. "It's Canada's birthday. That's when they found Canada."
"Founded," Bob corrected, "it's when they founded Canada."
"Ya," she replied, "when they found it."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"Do you know what Canada Day means?" she asked, not really expecting or waiting for an answer. "It's Canada's birthday. That's when they found Canada."
"Founded," Bob corrected, "it's when they founded Canada."
"Ya," she replied, "when they found it."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Catching Up ...
We're back from a much-needed break this summer and we're sorry if our absence threw you off. But a lot has happened these last few months, so let's catch up, shall we?
Milo learned to ride his bike without training wheels this summer. And, just like Neva 3 years ago, he took off without a problem. He was so excited, he stopped after about 10 feet (without falling off!) and came running back to me, taking off his helmet.
"I did it, Mommy! I did it!" He was running, jumping and skipping all at once.
"Way to go, buddy!" and I gave him a big hug. "Put your helmet back on and do it again."
"No, I don't want to."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Milo learned to ride his bike without training wheels this summer. And, just like Neva 3 years ago, he took off without a problem. He was so excited, he stopped after about 10 feet (without falling off!) and came running back to me, taking off his helmet.
"I did it, Mommy! I did it!" He was running, jumping and skipping all at once.
"Way to go, buddy!" and I gave him a big hug. "Put your helmet back on and do it again."
"No, I don't want to."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Picture Perfect ...
Yesterday I took my son Milo to have his portrait done, something I decided I'd do when each of the kids turns 5 years old. I had him put on some shorts and a t-shirt. But when I looked at all the bruises on his shins (generally my children look like leopards in the spring and summer), I wondered if I should put him in long pants. In the end, I decided it was much too hot outside to make him wear pants. And, besides, he's a boy and that's what he looks like!
When we got to the portrait studio, Milo befriended the photographer immediately. I stood outside the room, knowing he would do better on his own without me interfering.
The photographer had Milo sit on the floor with his legs crossed, but Milo insisted that he have one knee up. (This is the way he sits when he plays.) The photographer said, "But you have a lot of bruises on your legs."
"I know," Milo said proudly, "I want to show them off!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
When we got to the portrait studio, Milo befriended the photographer immediately. I stood outside the room, knowing he would do better on his own without me interfering.
The photographer had Milo sit on the floor with his legs crossed, but Milo insisted that he have one knee up. (This is the way he sits when he plays.) The photographer said, "But you have a lot of bruises on your legs."
"I know," Milo said proudly, "I want to show them off!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Pretty in Pink ...
We've been having hot, sunny weather here, but I occasionally forget to slather the kids in sunscreen before they go to school in the morning. One particularly hot day last week, I noticed Neva's cheeks looked rather red.
"Oh, Neva," I said, "You've got a sunburn on your face."
She just shrugged, in that 7-year-old way, and said nothing.
Before supper she asked if she could go outside to play.
"Okay, but keep out of the sun," I warned.
She reluctantly admitted she wasn't actually sunburned. "I accidentally got some lipstick on my face and that's why it's so red."
Upon later inspection of her bedroom, I discovered several mangled tubes of lipstick on her dresser.
Ah, yet another milestone.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"Oh, Neva," I said, "You've got a sunburn on your face."
She just shrugged, in that 7-year-old way, and said nothing.
Before supper she asked if she could go outside to play.
"Okay, but keep out of the sun," I warned.
She reluctantly admitted she wasn't actually sunburned. "I accidentally got some lipstick on my face and that's why it's so red."
Upon later inspection of her bedroom, I discovered several mangled tubes of lipstick on her dresser.
Ah, yet another milestone.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
What if ... 7-Year-Olds Made Sense?
The 7-year-old mind is inquisitive, full of questions and curiosity. We hear a lot of "what if" questions from our resident expert, Neva - questions ranging from the logical to the ridiculous. "What if I broke both my legs and had to use a wheelchair?" or "What if somebody said, 'You can't, I dunno, do something,' to somebody else?" (Yes, those were her exact words.)
But some things come so out of the blue, they make my head spin.
Last night I was kissing her goodnight and she was giggling like crazy as I nuzzled into that soft crook between her shoulder and neck. Suddenly she stopped laughing and asked:
"What if I had three feet? Wouldn't that be weird?"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
But some things come so out of the blue, they make my head spin.
Last night I was kissing her goodnight and she was giggling like crazy as I nuzzled into that soft crook between her shoulder and neck. Suddenly she stopped laughing and asked:
"What if I had three feet? Wouldn't that be weird?"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Very Happy Buddha ...
Bob and I drink green tea every day. But I find it tedious draining the liquid off and scraping all the leaves out of the cup into the compost pail I have in the kitchen. So I decided to just walk out the back door and dump the old tea, leaves and all, into our herb garden.
Bob saw me doing this and asked me if I should be pouring them into the plants that surround his Happy Buddha on the porch. "I'm just not sure if that would be appropriate," he wondered.
"Well," I said, "I think appropriate went out the window yesterday when Willa was feeding Buddha crackers."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Bob saw me doing this and asked me if I should be pouring them into the plants that surround his Happy Buddha on the porch. "I'm just not sure if that would be appropriate," he wondered.
"Well," I said, "I think appropriate went out the window yesterday when Willa was feeding Buddha crackers."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Return to Sender ...
Always follow the rules of the Kindergarten teacher: "Please hand deliver birthday invitations outside of class time so no feelings are hurt for those children not invited." Trust me on this one; it is a very good rule.
Milo turns 5 years old next week and we are having his birthday party Sunday afternoon. He invited (and these are his words) "just the silly boys" from his class.
I put the invitations in his backpack on the weekend so I could hand them out at school the next day. Then I forgot they were in there. The second day back to school, one parent handed a familiar looking envelope to the teacher, "This was in Jimmy's backpack." The envelope didn't have Jimmy's name on it. As I warily took the invitation from the teacher, a second parent handed another familiar looking envelope to the teacher. It didn't have her son's name on it either.
I asked the mothers of 2 other boys he should have invited -- one received his invitation, the other didn't. I spent the entire morning puzzling over the situation: where were the invitations? Who had he invited? Would he even remember?
Finally at lunch, the mystery was solved. Milo had handed the invitations out himself at snack time when he found them in his backpack. When Billy said he didn't want to come, Milo gave Billy's invitation to Bobby. Billy also told Milo that Johnny wouldn't want to go either, so Milo asked Eddie if he wanted to come instead.
So, now I have a few extra "silly boys" coming on Sunday and needless to say, I've had to hire a teenager to help out during the party.
Lesson learned: I will always hand deliver invitations outside of class time. If not just for the sake of hurt feelings, but for the sake of my own sanity!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Milo turns 5 years old next week and we are having his birthday party Sunday afternoon. He invited (and these are his words) "just the silly boys" from his class.
I put the invitations in his backpack on the weekend so I could hand them out at school the next day. Then I forgot they were in there. The second day back to school, one parent handed a familiar looking envelope to the teacher, "This was in Jimmy's backpack." The envelope didn't have Jimmy's name on it. As I warily took the invitation from the teacher, a second parent handed another familiar looking envelope to the teacher. It didn't have her son's name on it either.
I asked the mothers of 2 other boys he should have invited -- one received his invitation, the other didn't. I spent the entire morning puzzling over the situation: where were the invitations? Who had he invited? Would he even remember?
Finally at lunch, the mystery was solved. Milo had handed the invitations out himself at snack time when he found them in his backpack. When Billy said he didn't want to come, Milo gave Billy's invitation to Bobby. Billy also told Milo that Johnny wouldn't want to go either, so Milo asked Eddie if he wanted to come instead.
So, now I have a few extra "silly boys" coming on Sunday and needless to say, I've had to hire a teenager to help out during the party.
Lesson learned: I will always hand deliver invitations outside of class time. If not just for the sake of hurt feelings, but for the sake of my own sanity!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 24, 2007
We All Scream for Ice Cream ...
The other day I was doing some gardening when Willa emerged cheerfully with a bowl of ice cream. She was followed closely by Milo with a much larger bowl of ice cream.
"Um, watcha got?" I queried cautiously.
"Ite cweam," Willa sang, in her lovable 3-year-old dialect. "Milo gotted it for me!"
"Yeah!" Milo chimed in, "I did it all by myself!" He was smiling from ear to ear, his shirt covered in chocolate from wiping his hands in it.
"You're awfully messy," I commented. "Who's going to clean your shirt? Are you?"
Oddly, he agreed.
I cleaned myself off and went inside, first to the kitchen where I was greeted by a Willy Wonka version of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. The ice cream tub was in the middle of the floor, lid to one side and scoop on the other. There was a lot of "low velocity ice cream splatter" where the bowls had been and sticky chocolate footprints nearby. There were smudged chocolate handprints on the dishwasher ("Is it clean?") and in the cutlery drawer ("No, it isn't.").
Leaving the kitchen to put the ice cream away, I found the chest freezer lid wide open. Dirty handprints covered the lid and the outside and inside of the freezer.
I heard Milo running water in the bathroom sink. Oh sure, I thought. Now he washes his hands! My frustration and I, in that order, walked into the bathroom to find him stripped to his underwear, his shorts and t-shirt in the sink.
"I'm washing my clothes," he said, smiling proudly.
He was so pleased with himself - he had made ice cream for himself and his little sister and washed the ice cream out of his shirt like I'd asked him to. How could I be upset with that?
So I quietly cleaned up the freezer, the kitchen floor, the counter, the dishwasher and the cutlery drawer. And I didn't even balk at scrubbing his and Willa's shirts for half and hour to get all the chocolate out.
Sometimes, you just have to let them grow up at their own pace.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"Um, watcha got?" I queried cautiously.
"Ite cweam," Willa sang, in her lovable 3-year-old dialect. "Milo gotted it for me!"
"Yeah!" Milo chimed in, "I did it all by myself!" He was smiling from ear to ear, his shirt covered in chocolate from wiping his hands in it.
"You're awfully messy," I commented. "Who's going to clean your shirt? Are you?"
Oddly, he agreed.
I cleaned myself off and went inside, first to the kitchen where I was greeted by a Willy Wonka version of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. The ice cream tub was in the middle of the floor, lid to one side and scoop on the other. There was a lot of "low velocity ice cream splatter" where the bowls had been and sticky chocolate footprints nearby. There were smudged chocolate handprints on the dishwasher ("Is it clean?") and in the cutlery drawer ("No, it isn't.").
Leaving the kitchen to put the ice cream away, I found the chest freezer lid wide open. Dirty handprints covered the lid and the outside and inside of the freezer.
I heard Milo running water in the bathroom sink. Oh sure, I thought. Now he washes his hands! My frustration and I, in that order, walked into the bathroom to find him stripped to his underwear, his shorts and t-shirt in the sink.
"I'm washing my clothes," he said, smiling proudly.
He was so pleased with himself - he had made ice cream for himself and his little sister and washed the ice cream out of his shirt like I'd asked him to. How could I be upset with that?
So I quietly cleaned up the freezer, the kitchen floor, the counter, the dishwasher and the cutlery drawer. And I didn't even balk at scrubbing his and Willa's shirts for half and hour to get all the chocolate out.
Sometimes, you just have to let them grow up at their own pace.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Answering Service, May I Take a Message?
We all know about children's obsession with the telephone. They see Mom and Dad talking on them so often, it's a regular part of their lives and one of those "grown-up" things they like to emulate. They love to push the buttons and call Granny or Opa, but they're not so great at message taking. Our two youngest phone-aholics are no different.
One day this weekend, when we were mostly outside doing gardening, I walked in to see the phone off the hook on Bob's desk. No sooner had I hung up the phone than it rang again. It was a good friend and he told me 3-year-old Willa had answered his call 20 minutes earlier, then left to get Mommy or Daddy, never to return.
Thinking I'd have better luck with an almost-5-year-old, I asked Milo today to call a neighbour of ours who said he would come to help us with something. I gave him a little lesson on telephone etiquette and stayed close enough to hear the conversation. Milo had a nice chat with Chris and after he'd asked if Chris was coming, I prompted Milo to ask him what time he'd be here. I could hear Chris giving a rather long answer. Then Milo said, "Okay, goodbye," and hung up the phone.
"What did he say?" I asked. "Is he coming over?"
"Yes!"
"What time?"
"Um, I don't know."
Happy sweeping!Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Catching Up ...
Sorry we've been gone for so long. We were hit by a nasty virus that took us out for more than four weeks. Over the last month we all suffered differently at different times, yet each of the kids accomplished something despite being under the weather.
Neva had her first ballet recital last week. It was a huge production with four hours of weekend rehearsals, two long dress rehearsals and four 2 1/2-hour performances. It was a very long week but she did very well and still managed to make me a soggy-cereal breakfast-in-bed (complete with a glass of warm club soda!) on Mother's Day. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the $80 costume we had to buy!
Milo started soccer a few weeks ago and I believe we've found his "thing". He is so proud of his uniform, wearing it until bedtime on practice days. He's one of the few kids on his 5-and-under team that actually runs with the ball, not following along like a pack of lemmings. And when he is in goal, he has been making great saves. The best part is he's only been spoken to once by the coach for rough play. Well, so far...
As for Willa, our bright little 3-year-old, she learned to spell her name. It occurred to me now, in hindsight, that Bob and I gave our children great names for learning to spell. All the letters are relatively easy to print. So not only has Willa learned to print her name, although not always in the correct order, she also knows how to type it on the computer. The other day she was playing an online pre-school game that asks the player to type in their name to be displayed on the "award" at the end of the game. Up until now, Willa would type random letters. The other day, however, she proudly showed me her "award". It read: "Hooray! WALLI saved the day!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Neva had her first ballet recital last week. It was a huge production with four hours of weekend rehearsals, two long dress rehearsals and four 2 1/2-hour performances. It was a very long week but she did very well and still managed to make me a soggy-cereal breakfast-in-bed (complete with a glass of warm club soda!) on Mother's Day. Now I just have to figure out what to do with the $80 costume we had to buy!
Milo started soccer a few weeks ago and I believe we've found his "thing". He is so proud of his uniform, wearing it until bedtime on practice days. He's one of the few kids on his 5-and-under team that actually runs with the ball, not following along like a pack of lemmings. And when he is in goal, he has been making great saves. The best part is he's only been spoken to once by the coach for rough play. Well, so far...
As for Willa, our bright little 3-year-old, she learned to spell her name. It occurred to me now, in hindsight, that Bob and I gave our children great names for learning to spell. All the letters are relatively easy to print. So not only has Willa learned to print her name, although not always in the correct order, she also knows how to type it on the computer. The other day she was playing an online pre-school game that asks the player to type in their name to be displayed on the "award" at the end of the game. Up until now, Willa would type random letters. The other day, however, she proudly showed me her "award". It read: "Hooray! WALLI saved the day!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
What Kind of Noise Annoys a Mother?
A noisy noise annoys a Mother!
We live in the main floor of a turn-of-the-century house. Despite all the "stuff" we have occupying space (like furniture and a plethora of kids' toys), the hardwood floors and high ceilings make it somewhat cavernous when listening to the cacophony for which our children are quite often responsible.
The two bedrooms are adjacent to the living and dining rooms, so when the kids go to bed, the television needs to be quiet. Last night, after I'd put him to bed for what I had hoped would be the last time, Milo started yelling for me from his room. I was in the kitchen at the other end of the apartment, and responded to him only once to go to sleep. I figured, since Bob was in the next room watching TV, he could deal with Milo.
"Mom!" he continued to yell, in his big 4 1/2-year-old voice. "MO-OM!"
I stopped doing dishes momentarily and took a deep, cleansing breath. "I will not yell back," I told myself. If anyone was going to get in trouble for waking the girls, it wasn't going to me.
Finally, after several minutes of him calling, Milo appeared in the kitchen, with that contrived sleepy look that kids are so good at.
"Why are you out of bed?" I asked, somewhat testily.
"I can't sleep because of all the noise."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
We live in the main floor of a turn-of-the-century house. Despite all the "stuff" we have occupying space (like furniture and a plethora of kids' toys), the hardwood floors and high ceilings make it somewhat cavernous when listening to the cacophony for which our children are quite often responsible.
The two bedrooms are adjacent to the living and dining rooms, so when the kids go to bed, the television needs to be quiet. Last night, after I'd put him to bed for what I had hoped would be the last time, Milo started yelling for me from his room. I was in the kitchen at the other end of the apartment, and responded to him only once to go to sleep. I figured, since Bob was in the next room watching TV, he could deal with Milo.
"Mom!" he continued to yell, in his big 4 1/2-year-old voice. "MO-OM!"
I stopped doing dishes momentarily and took a deep, cleansing breath. "I will not yell back," I told myself. If anyone was going to get in trouble for waking the girls, it wasn't going to me.
Finally, after several minutes of him calling, Milo appeared in the kitchen, with that contrived sleepy look that kids are so good at.
"Why are you out of bed?" I asked, somewhat testily.
"I can't sleep because of all the noise."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Friday, April 13, 2007
I Spy, With My Little Eye (Redux) ...
I've told a few stories now about playing "I Spy" with the kids. So you know that we've been spying letters lately, since Milo's learning to spell. Willa just plays along, totally unconcerned that she has no clue what most words start with. Here's how it went today:
Willa: "I 'py with my little eye, tumting 'tart with D."
Me: "Daddy? Dog? Dancer? Dandelion?"
Willa: "No. No. No. No."
Me: "I give up."
Willa: "A bear, tilly!"
Me: "Bear starts with B."
Willa: "Oh... I 'py with my little eye, tumting 'tart with B."
Me: "Bear?"
Willa: "Yeah!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Willa: "I 'py with my little eye, tumting 'tart with D."
Me: "Daddy? Dog? Dancer? Dandelion?"
Willa: "No. No. No. No."
Me: "I give up."
Willa: "A bear, tilly!"
Me: "Bear starts with B."
Willa: "Oh... I 'py with my little eye, tumting 'tart with B."
Me: "Bear?"
Willa: "Yeah!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Dead Man Chalking ...
The weather is quite nice and Milo's kindergarten class had gone outside for gym. So, when I picked him up from school today, he pulled me straight into the school yard to show me something.
"I made a people," he said, showing me a chalk-drawing of a stick man.
"That's great, Milo," I said, "Who is it?"
"It's Daddy. He's dead."
"Oh no! How did he die?"
"Because he's on the pavement and I stepped-ed on his toe."
"What do we do with him now?"
"We just wait. Wait for him to be sucked down into the ground."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"I made a people," he said, showing me a chalk-drawing of a stick man.
"That's great, Milo," I said, "Who is it?"
"It's Daddy. He's dead."
"Oh no! How did he die?"
"Because he's on the pavement and I stepped-ed on his toe."
"What do we do with him now?"
"We just wait. Wait for him to be sucked down into the ground."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Grasshopper, anyone?
Last night at the dinner table, my 3-year-old daughter Willa leaned across the table to reach some bread and butter. When she sat back down, she pulled her placemat with her and her plate nearly fell in her lap. Bob quickly caught the plate and a minor disaster was averted.
"Good catch, Daddy, " I said with a sigh of relief.
"I a good catcher, too, you know, " Willa chimed in, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired.
"Yes, you are," we said encouragingly.
"Ya! I can catch bugs with my tongue!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
"Good catch, Daddy, " I said with a sigh of relief.
"I a good catcher, too, you know, " Willa chimed in, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired.
"Yes, you are," we said encouragingly.
"Ya! I can catch bugs with my tongue!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Bad Bed Mood ...
Lately I've been having a little problem getting myself to bed at a good hour. There's always "one last thing" I need to do before it's lights out. Luckily, on weekends, I have a bit more leeway for sleeping in, but everyone in my house knows I have a hard time getting out of bed in the mornings. So yesterday my 7-year-old, Neva, gave me the gears and told me I should go to bed by 10:30pm.
As I tucked her in to bed last night, she reminded me, "Make sure you go to bed at 10:30pm. You can go to bed between 10:30 and 10:50, but no later than 10:50." I thanked her, kissed her goodnight and told her I would do my best.
I thought I was doing well when I was in bed by 11:15pm -- later than Neva's instructions, but certainly earlier than recent nights. Still, I was very tired waking up this morning and as I laid in bed not wanting to get up, Neva, having heard how I disobeyed her instruction, came in to my bedroom and told me to come with her.
She had put sticky-notes everywhere -- on the fish tank, on my computer monitor, the dishwasher, the fridge and the kitchen counter. They all read: "Go to sleep at 10:30 - 10:50. Your in a bed mood."
I thanked her for taking such good care of me and asked, "You wrote bed mood. Did you mean bad mood?"
"No," she said, smiling, "You're in a bed mood, because you always want to be in bed when you shouldn't be."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
As I tucked her in to bed last night, she reminded me, "Make sure you go to bed at 10:30pm. You can go to bed between 10:30 and 10:50, but no later than 10:50." I thanked her, kissed her goodnight and told her I would do my best.
I thought I was doing well when I was in bed by 11:15pm -- later than Neva's instructions, but certainly earlier than recent nights. Still, I was very tired waking up this morning and as I laid in bed not wanting to get up, Neva, having heard how I disobeyed her instruction, came in to my bedroom and told me to come with her.
She had put sticky-notes everywhere -- on the fish tank, on my computer monitor, the dishwasher, the fridge and the kitchen counter. They all read: "Go to sleep at 10:30 - 10:50. Your in a bed mood."
I thanked her for taking such good care of me and asked, "You wrote bed mood. Did you mean bad mood?"
"No," she said, smiling, "You're in a bed mood, because you always want to be in bed when you shouldn't be."
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Lunch and a Donut
I just came in from a lunch date. It's been a long time since this friend and I have had lunch together, just the two of us, without little kids around. And although my companion seemed more engrossed in her lunch than conversation with me, I didn't mind. We shared some stories, discussed a few plans for summer, and shared a chocolate glazed donut at the end of it all.
It was the best lunch date I've had in a long, long time. And I think she and I will have to do it more often -- maybe set a date once a month and stick to it. After all, it's not everyday I get to sit face-to-face with my 7-year-old and talk uninterrupted for almost an entire hour.
Thanks for having lunch with me, Neva. You made my day!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
It was the best lunch date I've had in a long, long time. And I think she and I will have to do it more often -- maybe set a date once a month and stick to it. After all, it's not everyday I get to sit face-to-face with my 7-year-old and talk uninterrupted for almost an entire hour.
Thanks for having lunch with me, Neva. You made my day!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
March Broke ...
For most of us here in North America, last week was March break, a week of holiday from school that many parents consider Hell Week. There are several different options of getting through hell ... I mean, March break. If you are in the group of parents that save vacation time for summer (or for days when your kids are at home from school sick), you must pay through the nose for a special day camp for your school-aged children.
If you take time off from work, you might fly off to sunnier climes in search of a much-needed break from the cold. Or perhaps you enjoy winter and take the opportunity to hit the slopes and enjoy the last of the snow. Either way, you're looking at inflated airfares and lift fees, and crowded airports, ski hills and Disney-like attractions.
If you stay at home with your kids, you try to fill their days with endless activity -- swimming or skating, gymnasiums, and pay-per-play centres. And did I mention the exorbitant prices?
Out of pure dedication to our readers and online visitors (or just downright stupidity), we opt to stay home with our kids and go nowhere, continuing our daily slog in a much noisier home. Unfortunately, the weather is usually decidedly grim and no one wants to play outside. And if it is warm or sunny, it means there is usually enough slush and mud to scare even the best laundress back into her home.
Our week was filled with "What can I do/eat/watch now?" and "Mom, I'm bored!" and "All my friends went away. Why can't we go somewhere for March break?" There was much sibling rivalry and the house was more of a minefield of toys than it was anything else. And I often felt like pulling my hair out.
But there were some fun moments too. Like the time Neva, 7 1/2, finally figured out how to get the cat to play with one of its toys. Or the afternoon all three kids spent more than an hour playing and giggling in the bathtub together. We did watch some fun new movies and our good friends had the kids over to play on two afternoons, giving Bob and me some kid-free work time.
So in the end, we did manage to make it through the kids' March break with almost all of our hair. But we do have a few more grey ones.
So, please keep patronizing our advertisers. I think next year we might be planning an over-priced vacation somewhere!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
If you take time off from work, you might fly off to sunnier climes in search of a much-needed break from the cold. Or perhaps you enjoy winter and take the opportunity to hit the slopes and enjoy the last of the snow. Either way, you're looking at inflated airfares and lift fees, and crowded airports, ski hills and Disney-like attractions.
If you stay at home with your kids, you try to fill their days with endless activity -- swimming or skating, gymnasiums, and pay-per-play centres. And did I mention the exorbitant prices?
Out of pure dedication to our readers and online visitors (or just downright stupidity), we opt to stay home with our kids and go nowhere, continuing our daily slog in a much noisier home. Unfortunately, the weather is usually decidedly grim and no one wants to play outside. And if it is warm or sunny, it means there is usually enough slush and mud to scare even the best laundress back into her home.
Our week was filled with "What can I do/eat/watch now?" and "Mom, I'm bored!" and "All my friends went away. Why can't we go somewhere for March break?" There was much sibling rivalry and the house was more of a minefield of toys than it was anything else. And I often felt like pulling my hair out.
But there were some fun moments too. Like the time Neva, 7 1/2, finally figured out how to get the cat to play with one of its toys. Or the afternoon all three kids spent more than an hour playing and giggling in the bathtub together. We did watch some fun new movies and our good friends had the kids over to play on two afternoons, giving Bob and me some kid-free work time.
So in the end, we did manage to make it through the kids' March break with almost all of our hair. But we do have a few more grey ones.
So, please keep patronizing our advertisers. I think next year we might be planning an over-priced vacation somewhere!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Thursday, March 15, 2007
I Spy, With My Little Eye ...
This morning the kids and I were playing "I Spy". When playing with Willa, who is only 3 years old, you really have to be lax with the rules. She'll spy blue, for instance, but then, in the end, join in on guessing what she spied. "I know, I know!" she'll say. "Id it da blanket?"
Today we were playing "I Spy" with letters, as I often do with my 4 1/2-year-old, Milo, who is learning to read. Willa would just call out things she saw in the room, regardless of whether they started with the "spied" letter or not. When it was Willa's turn, she spied "tum-ting dat tart wit W". We all guessed "Willa", since that's the only word she knows that starts with W. We were wrong. After several failed attempts, she gave us a clue.
"It out-tide," she said as she gently wiggled her fingers in the air. "It da Wain!"
Well, what do you know? She got it wight!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Today we were playing "I Spy" with letters, as I often do with my 4 1/2-year-old, Milo, who is learning to read. Willa would just call out things she saw in the room, regardless of whether they started with the "spied" letter or not. When it was Willa's turn, she spied "tum-ting dat tart wit W". We all guessed "Willa", since that's the only word she knows that starts with W. We were wrong. After several failed attempts, she gave us a clue.
"It out-tide," she said as she gently wiggled her fingers in the air. "It da Wain!"
Well, what do you know? She got it wight!
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Go Figaro ...
We all know the age old story about the child who receives the new toy and plays more with the box. Well it also applies, as I have discovered, to cats.
You have heard about our new four-legged feline, Figaro, who joined our family a month ago. Well, we decided it was high time to buy him something to play with. (Okay, okay, my olderst daughter Neva was driving me nuts asking every day when we were going to get him some toys. So I relented.)
We went to the big box pet store and each picked out something special for our furry friend. That same day our neighbour, who would have gladly taken Figaro in on that fateful day of his discovery in our shed had it not been for her own cat, came by with some gifts of her own. So Figaro now has two scratching toys with spring-mounted pom-poms on top, three balls, a furry creature-like thing, a squeaking feathered bird on a long elastic string and a pillow filled with catnip.
And what do I find him playing with every night? A 4-inch piece of yarn that fell off one of Neva's crafts.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
You have heard about our new four-legged feline, Figaro, who joined our family a month ago. Well, we decided it was high time to buy him something to play with. (Okay, okay, my olderst daughter Neva was driving me nuts asking every day when we were going to get him some toys. So I relented.)
We went to the big box pet store and each picked out something special for our furry friend. That same day our neighbour, who would have gladly taken Figaro in on that fateful day of his discovery in our shed had it not been for her own cat, came by with some gifts of her own. So Figaro now has two scratching toys with spring-mounted pom-poms on top, three balls, a furry creature-like thing, a squeaking feathered bird on a long elastic string and a pillow filled with catnip.
And what do I find him playing with every night? A 4-inch piece of yarn that fell off one of Neva's crafts.
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
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