My Not-So-Guilty Little Secret

Get your disapproving head shakes and harsh finger wags ready… I’m going to blow your socks off!

Here it is… My kid watches TV. And I don’t feel guilty about it. Not a bit. In fact, he’s actually watching it right now while I write this. Take that!

I know that many of you reading this right now are patting yourselves on the back and congratulating yourself for never allowing yourself to stoop to the level of the dreaded “electronic babysitter”. To that I say, hey, if my lifestyle makes you feel better about yours, then there’s my good karma for the day…

When my son was a baby I repeatedly tried those Baby Einstein videos in the hopes that he would mindlessly sit and stare at the screen (you know, like every other baby on the planet apparently does!) so I could actually catch my breath. No luck. In fact, he was about two years old before he finally cut me some slack and noticed that weird square box with all the sounds and pictures I kept trying to sit him in front of. I still remember the day he wandered by the TV with a dinky car in each hand and stopped… and stared… and watched.

Instantaneously, Max & Ruby became my heroes and finishing a hot cup of coffee once again became a reality. I couldn’t have cared less that they he wasn’t learning another language, or solving the problem of world peace… heck, I didn’t even care where their parents were (it’s a TV show, people… if you want to get all judgy, how come no one ever cares that Dora’s parents send her off on her own through mountains, jungles and rivers just to get them a gallon of milk??) All I knew was that my wonderful, amazing, beautiful, loving, hyper, high-maintenance, non-sleeping toddler was giving me the 20 minutes I needed to tidy up, start dinner…. even go to the bathroom without company. My paradise had arrived!

Fast forward about five years and my handsome little devil still watches some TV, and has added additional screen time on the computer and his DS to the mix. Have I stunted his intellectual and social well-being and essentially turned him into a screen zombie? Not a chance… He powers through books at top speed, has earned himself a brown belt in taekwondo, loves photography, hiking and “mini sticks”… and is truly the most amazing kid I know.

So let’s all take a deep breath and enjoy the lovely glass houses we all live in. And enjoy the fact that we all love our kids and want the best for them.

And enjoy that hot cup of coffee whenever we can.

'Stick With It' or Just 'Stick It'?

I know there are certain universally accepted “mom rules” the infamous “They” say we have to teach our kids: 

Respect your elders

Don’t talk with your mouth full

Don’t stick peas up your nose

Never give up

I thought I was doing a decent job at sharing these lessons (hey, an occasional jammed pea can be overlooked!) but lately I had to question whether or not I was actually making the grade. For the past two years, my little guy has been kicking butt in taekwondo (literally!). He took to it immediately and sailed through the various belts with ease… and a big smile on his face.

I was there as he beamed with pride upon mastering his first “jump sidekick”…. I was there when he aced the first tournament he entered... I was there when he finally clued in that hugging his taekwondo “Master” probably isn’t the coolest greeting ever…

Unfortunately, I was also there when he started complaining about six months ago that he didn’t want to go anymore. Really? He’s worked so hard and has earned himself a brown belt – notable AND fashionable! Seriously, he’s only four belts away from achieving his black belt – and he wants to quit now??

As parents, we teach them to stick with things… to persevere… to ‘Go for the Gold’… So, when are they allowed to teach us that perhaps there’s no shame in packing it in? Am I worried about the fact that he’s ‘giving up’? Or that I didn’t work hard enough to convince him to stay? 

As my only child (insert shocked gasps here!), maybe I’ve placed a bit too much importance on these kinds of decisions and how they will ultimately shape (or not) the person he becomes.

Which lesson carries the greatest amount of weight - Teaching them determination & seeing things through to the end? Or learning to find your own voice and deciding where your own interests truly lie?

Quitting is seen as a bad thing. But maybe the definition needs a bit of an overhaul. Maybe it’s less about walking away from something and more about just changing the direction you’re walking. 

Either way, I know I’ll always be incredibly proud of my little “mini-Martial Arts Master” no matter what he ends up doing… even if its just leaving his peas on his plate!

Who's Your Daddy?

I’m pretty sure my son came out of the womb asking “Why”. Seriously. While most little kids his age were singing their “A-B-C’s”, my kid was busting out the “Y-Y-Y’s”! Unlike Dear Ol’ Dad, I can’t tune him out when he asks so I’m sure I’ve spent a disproportionate amount of time explaining everything from Why daylight lasts longer in the Summer to Why boogers are so slimy (good question!). The infamous “They” say that you’re supposed to encourage a child’s natural curiousity, so I’m pretty sure I’ve earned my Black Belt in answering questions.


I should have realized the questions were only going to get more difficult (although the slimy booger thing did stump me). But I figured I’d be able to handle it. After all, wasn’t I the mom who was able to somewhat explain the concept of the Civil Rights movement to my inquisitive little 5-year old after a million questions about “Martin Luther King, Jr. Day”?

I also should have known that the  question was coming…

“Mommy, who’s your Daddy?”

Nope, not in a funky, slang kind of way. He really wanted to know. Let me start by saying that he has been blessed with an absolutely amazing Grandpa – my stepdad – who is an awesome Wii partner / skating teacher / swimming buddy / and all around great guy. My dad, on the other hand? Not so much. For a number of reasons I don’t fully understand, he’s chosen not to be a part of our lives – we haven’t spoken in over 10 years. He didn’t attend my wedding and he’s never laid eyes on my son. I have sent cards and pictures every Christmas, and have even left random voicemails on occasion to try and set up “the talk”. Nothing.

So, as an adult, I can rationalize, justify, explain and excuse all night long (seriously, I’m pretty good at it!) – but having to tell my innocent little boy who is the centre of his family’s world that there is actually a person who has absolutely no desire to have anything to do with him… that’s where it gets me. I realize I’m a tad biased but it breaks to my heart to know that someone is missing out on the sheer joy and blessing of having the most wonderful, curious, intelligent, sensitive, funny, amazing little boy in their life.

So that’s what I told him. I looked into his inquisitive, beautiful brown eyes and told him that my dad was the one who was missing out. That sometimes people make choices that we can’t understand but they’re entitled to make them. And fortunately he’s surrounded by people who choose to love him more than life itself.

Was that the right answer? Who knows… but at least we’ve moved beyond boogers…

Why Grade One Was Too Much For Me

Our parents had it easy. They walked to school…. both ways… uphill… in a snowstorm… all year long…. Piece of cake. Now that my kid is in school, I thought stresses of decision-making were behind me. No more Montessori vs. Waldorf… home daycare vs. daycare centre…  full-time vs. part-time. All would be right with the world once the little guy could hit the world of JK.

Apparently in my world, “JK” stands for “Just Kidding”! Catholic schools in our area are “half-days, everyday” so I couldn’t imagine dealing with the chaos of finding daycares, getting him there, alternate bus routes, etc. so we decided to leave him at his daycare centre that year. Check.

Once SK (a.k.a. “STILL Kidding”) rolled around, he was bored, and ticked off that his friends were trekking off to “Big School” without him.  Well, the half-day was still an issue, so we debated, researched, soul-searched (and wine drank) and ended up sending him to the local public school (full-day, alternate days), while keeping him at the centre on the “off days”. Check.

I was thrilled at the prospect of Grade One – Problem solved, right? Not so much. Public school he knows or Catholic school I wanted him to attend? French Immersion? Continue driving him or loosen the reins and let him take the bus?

Back to debating, researching, soul-searching and wine-drinking, and behold - the decision was finally made. Check. Wait… make that “uncheck” – turns out the kid qualified for a new pilot program in the area at yet another school that will keep him “challenged & engaged”. What?? The Back-to-School chaos is tough enough without adding additional mama guilt & “what ifs” to the equation.

Debate, research, soul-search, drink – plus several info-gathering chats with my mommy friends – and finally, with no Magic 8 Ball in sight, the decision was made. He now happily attends the new school, seems to be enjoying himself and doesn’t appear to be scarred for life. Good thing one of us isn’t!

Kids Are Not Like Potato Chips

Grocery shopping is tough enough. Remembering  everything on my shopping list… Remembering the list… Ensuring the Oreos are well hidden under the strategically placed bag of carrots…..… . Recently I was chatting with the woman behind me in line (who I’m pretty sure couldn’t spot the Oreos) and walked away with a virtual punch in the stomach I never expected.

We were discussing kids and upon learning that I was the proud (if somewhat frazzled) mom to one little boy, with no plans to have another little one, our conversation seemed to change on a dime. Yes, a complete and total stranger – in my life only because of our grocery store of choice – actually told me that she was shocked that I wouldn’t give my kid the gift of a sibling. Really?? Knock my Oreos, maybe, but my choice about kids??

After wallowing in disbelief for far too long, I was able to regroup & rally back, thanks to an incredibly simple, yet profound statement shared by the brilliant Kia Robertson… “Kids are not like potato chips… you CAN have just one!” Brilliant.

Yes, it would be nice if he had a built-in playmate sometimes… or I could be spending time breaking up scraps and dealing with sibling rivalry.

Yes, it could help him learn to share, take turns and other great life lessons… or he could learn to be independent and self-sufficient.

Yes, it would be nice to think of him surrounded by siblings when I’m old & grey or gone… or maybe they’d all move to opposite ends of the world and never speak.

Life is tough enough (just like grocery shopping!) – I wish I could understand why people feel the need to continually question and judge other people’s choices. I don’t know how my life would have played out with another child, two more or ten more (except then I might be in line for my own reality show!). All I do know is that my kid is the single most wonderful thing in my life and its an absolute joy to be his mom (most days!). Let’s just learn to relax… sit down… take a deep breath… have an Oreo…