A Day of Thanksgiving

This year, more than any other year past, I have so much to be thankful for.

1. My health:  Last year I spent Thanksgiving in a psychiatric clinic under the watchful eyes of some incredible and dedicated mental health professionals to ensure that I didn't, first and foremost, harm myself.  Beyond that they helped me navigate a torteous path of recovery from the depths of depression to where I am today:  stronger, calmer, happier, more content, more resilient.  I hate to say that I have fully recovered because I'm not entirely sure what that means but at least I know I am better than I was and madness is being kept at an arm's length.
2. My husband:  I can't imagine how diffcult the last 16 months has been on my husband who vowed to love, honour and cherish one woman and has ended up loving, honouring, and cherishing quite another.  We have grown together.  He is my rock and my soft place to fall all rolled into one.  We struggle everyday but at least it is our struggle and we do it together.  I love him more today than I ever have.
3.  My children:  Never in a million years did I imagine how they would change me and how their growth impacts my growth.  They have the sweetest kisses and the sweetest cuddles.  One smile from them can banish whatever internal monsters I am fighting and make every day worth whatever is being thrown at me.  I am so grateful to have such incredible individuals in my life.
4. My friends:  I am surrounded by an army of amazing friends.  They have picked me up.  They have carried me.  They have walked with me.  They have cried with me.  They have bathed me.  They have fed me.  They have laughed with me.  They have brought me coffee.  They have sat with me.  They have held my hand.  They have never judged me.  They never gave up on me.  They believe in me.  They nuture my spirit.  They inspire me.  And there is so many of them!
5. My home:  I am warm.  I am protected from the elements of wind, rain, snow and frost.  I am fed.  I have access to and can afford nutritious fresh fruit and vegetables.  I have plenty of protein in my diet.  I have access to clean drinking water at all times. I am clothed and I have shoes on my feet.
6. My community:   I am protected by a dedicated force of police officers and fire fighters who will risk their lives to ensure the safety of mine.  I have the right to vote.  I have freedom of speech.  I have access to free health care.  I have nieghbours I can count on.  I have access to high quality education.  I have opportunity to do meaningful work.  I have the right to practise (or not) the religion of my choice.  I have the right to love, marry, and have sex with who I want.

There is nothing I need that I do not have.

 

There is much that I wish was different in the world.  I wish there was less hate and more peace.  I was there was less greed and more giving.  I wish there was less grief and more joy.  I wish everyone could grow old.  I wish there was less disease and illness.  I wish there was less slefishness and more self awareness.  I wish there was more singing and music and less noise.  I wish there was more art and less rubbish.  I wish there was less corruption and more purity and compassion.  I wish we took care of each other better and thought less of ourselves.  I wish we were more forgiving and less hostile.  I wish there was less poverty and more equity.  I wish there were more books.  There can never be too many books.

 

I wish I was thankful every day for every day. 

Under the Influence

365 days have passed me by and the passage of time fails to have much effect on me. I’ll bet I’ve got a few more wrinkles and my weight has probably gone up and/or down. My hangovers last longer but I don’t get as drunk as often. My 40s are passing me by and I’m relatively ok with that. I don’t think I could survive the agony of examining every inch of my face or body for endless hours as is the habit of teenage girls and was most certainly my habit in my 20s. There’s just way too much wrong with it all now.

My children seem to grow up every time they walk back into a room. They don’t need my presence or even my permission. They even mature over night as they sleep and dream of gigantic sweet shops. They lose teeth. They grow new ones. They learn new words. Their hair grows. Their feet grow. I sometimes don’t recognize my babies in the bodies of this 9 and nearly 7 year old.

I’m excited and frightened of the people they will one day become. I watch my son’s fragile ego take a beating due to his small stature. No matter how many times I assure him that dynamite comes in small packages, his classmates don’t exactly agree and his performance on the rugby pitch is not exactly winning him a place on the A team. Then I watch him sing. And I see his ego soar up with the eagles. He is in his element. I have seen the singing of his choir move people to tears.

My daughter fears and withdraws from conflict or confrontation of any kind, which will most certainly keep her out of a street fight for which I am most grateful. Bu when classmates are not treating her with respect she loses her confidence and doesn’t stand up for herself. She would rather not answer a question than risk getting it wrong in front of everyone. She has a wicked sense of humour and can make me laugh my fool head off with her wry commentary on life but her tears when she can’t read a book break my heart.

With every passing year the influence a mother has on a child’s life diminishes with every passing day. Indeed this is the very job of a parent: to teach your child to be an independent and contributing member of society. They are part of your body and then they are born, the umbilical cord is cut and suddenly they are separate. We teach them to feed themselves. Then we teach them to walk. My heart leaped and then fell to the ground as I watched them take their first tentative steps away from me because I knew eventually they would walk out the door of our home and not come back for days, weeks, years. Finally, we hope they learn to have the confidence to go out into the big wide world and make their own way: find happiness in a career, find love, find joy in their own children, find contentment in their own wisdom and judgement. Everything you do leads them down the path you wish for them. But ultimately they pick their own road, their own journey through life.

As a parent your influence begins to diminish within the first year of their life. First I went back to work and the child minder had a part to play. Then they started school and the teachers had a large part to play. And now I find their peer group is starting influence their decisions and I’m caught in a crisis of confidence. Not long from now their peer group will be the primary influence on their lives. Did I tech them to pick the right friends? Did I teach them well enough about everything else, quickly enough? Did I simply teach them enough? Is what I’ve given them a sound foundation for the future? How much longer will they be influenced by me and does that have to come to an end?

Maybe it doesn’t ever end. My mother and father still have a profound influence on my life’s decisions, both good and bad. My grandmother, even though she is no longer living, is constant source of answers when I ask the question “What would nanny say?” For now, I will continue to hope that my voice can be heard over that of others even when I’m not there.

Little Plastic Bits

This time of year I venture into the depths of my children's assorted toy boxes, drawers, closets, caves and caverns for a good spring clean. I try to match all the games and puzzle pieces to the right boxes. Anything that can't be match gets thrown in the bin. Anything that the children have outgrown (or that I find just too annoying) gets either thrown in the bin (if I don't want to risk annoying countless other parents) or put in a big black bin bag headed for the charity shops.

I have discovered an uncanny talent which my son possesses. He showed a penchant for this talent at quite an early age. I'm wondering if there is any way to make any money with this talent. Oh perhaps not!

This son of mine cannot remember to put his dirty underpants in the laundry basket. He cannot remember what I ask him to do once he leaves the room I am not in. He has the memory of a newt.

Unless you are asking him which toy this little piece (smaller than a fingernail) of orange coloured plastic goes with. Or this turquoise square? Or this yellow tube?

He knows exactly which toy every stray piece of plastic goes with. He will tell me "It's the base that goes with that grey Transformer that was missing the arm that you threw away last spring clean." How does he remember that. I picked up this little clear yellow plastic bit and he identified as as belonging to a toy we threw out over 3 years ago.

My daughter is also displaying similar tendencies when we started on her closet. Are we all born with this? Do we then grown out of it? Are my children the only children that do this? Can we make money from this?

A Decade Later

I remember 10 years ago today like it was yesterday. Marc and I were at the Dart International Sailing Championships in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. I did my first open water dive on New Year's Eve 1999. We were drinking gin and tonics for .35p on a veranda overlooking the sea. The temperature was roughly 96 F and there was a lovely sea breeze. We drank until we rang in the bells of 2000 and our best attempts at staying awake to see the sun rise over the horizon failed. We went for a long and possibly the scariest walk I've ever been on down on the beach where we were the only white faces in a sea of thousands of black faces. We decided that we might not want to go very far so instead we returned to our hotel and enjoyed a lovely braai (BBQ).

Where has the time gone?

In a decade, Marc and I have married. We have 2 gorgeous children. We have a gorgeous home (2 in fact). We run a successful business. I've got an amazing job. We have lost (and gained) numerous pounds. We have laughed and we have cried. We have sang. We have danced. We have made many friends and lost a few (I so miss my grandmother). We have changed in ways that were unimaginable.

The world around us has changed in ways that are unfathomable. In December 1999, Y2K was threatening (but I secretly knew it was all a hoax). September 11 hadn't yet happened and airports were more like shopping malls than lockdowns. No one had Sat Nav. Or an iPhone. Or Facebook. Or a blog.

I don't think I've ever looked back on a decade and experienced such upheaval. I look out into the future and can't see beyond tomorrow. In the next decade at least one of my children will have probably (hopefully?) left home. But beyond that I can't see that far. In December 1999, I never would have guesses that I would be sitting in the sunshine in a gorgeous home in Southern Spain surrounded by laughing, screaming children playing Nintendo DS Lites drinking Cava with fabulous friends I didn't even know but are now our closest of mates.

Maybe I'll lose those final unwanted pounds (and keep them off). Maybe I'll write a novel. Maybe we'll buy our yacht. Maybe we'll win the lottery.

I hope we are always relatively healthy. And warm and dry. And well fed. And happy.

But my overwhelming new year's resolution is to remember to enjoy this moment. And the next. And the next. And the next. But each moment in and of itself will be worthy of enjoyment. And so I shall.

May your next decade be filled with moments that all add up to the realisation of your hopes and dreams.

The Sex Talk

I am so not prepared for "the sex talk". Actually, I think I'm more prepared to give my daughter the talk but far less prepared to give my son the talk.

My mom and dad never gave me the sex talk. Well, I think my mom probably thinks she gave me the sex talk but by the time she got round to it I think I had lost my virginity. I must have been about 17. And my dad, well, let's just say I think my father imagines both of my children were conceived via immaculate conception. I should have been named Mary.

I went to Catholic school and let's just say they teach sex education the way they teach the theory of evolution. They don't.

I was annoyed, nay outraged, when I read my Oprah magazine a few months back to find that they had dedicated the entire issue to talking to your daughters about sex. Hey, what happened to our sons? Isn't it just as important to talk to our sons about their roles and responsibilities? Doesn't so much that happen to our daughters around sex happen because of the boys and what they've been taught (or not)?

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm still at the basics. Stuck there really. I don't have a clue on how to approach this with either of my children. And Seb is definitely at the age where he needs to have a talk.

I've read the general advice: Make sure the vocabulary is accurate but also age appropriate. This could be a contradiction. My husband doesn't even use what I would consider to be accurate terminology. Or age appropriate for that matter. And who's to say what is age appropriate. My daughter is far more mature at 5 than her brother is at 8 about some things.

Oh, I'm so afraid.

I attempted the talk one time when I was out having lunch with him. Just me and him bonding. Over pizza. Jump right in.

I asked him if he wanted to know anything about sex. He didn't miss a beat and replied it was just about a whole lot of kissing and he wasn't all that interested. Right then. Job done.

Just kidding. I knew my job was far from over.

My sister's advice was simple and straightforward. Tell them all. Tell them everything. Tell them now. She assures me this is the approach she's taken with her daughter and that it has worked a treat. I reckon she does this just so they get so overwhelmed they never broach the subject with her again. And I'll bet her daughter's extensive vocabulary makes her very popular at school. Now I'm thinking she might have something here.

You see, I was racing through the drugstore the other day. I was buying Seb a new hair brush and comb, a new toothbrush and some toothpaste, some shampoo, all for boarding school. Oh and I just need to grab me some of these. What's those, mum? Um, just things for mummy when she bleeds.

Silence.

We join the queue.

So, mummy, why do women bleed?

I gasp. The lady in front of us whips her head around, looks at Sebastian, then at me and cracks me one of those "whatcha gonna say to that?" smiles.

My pulse quickens and my palms sweat. OK, I can handle this. Just the facts mam.....

Women bleed so they can have babies.

Silence.

Here's me thinking I've managed that one. But nooooooo. it was never going to be that easy.

What does bleeding have to do with havin' babies, mum?

At this point the whole queue is snickering. Loudly. Indiscreetly. I take a deep deep breath. I bend down to his level and smack him. Not really.

I calmly explain to my son in a soft, gentle, supportive voice at his level that this is one of those private subjects that I am happy to explain to him in excruciating detail in private, when we are alone, say in the car. And the radio is turned up.

So we carry on with our errands and an hour or so later return to the car. I have bought him a book on astronomy hoping the distraction factor would be sufficient to keep his attention. I crank up the radio just as soon as I start the car up. We exit the parking garage singing loudly and there I am feeling smug with myself in the hopes that he has forgotten all about it.

I turn right on the road and feel myself coasting home when he leans forward, turns off the radio, and says, ok, so explain, the whole bleeding baby thing.

Heaven help me. I nearly drove the car off the bridge and into the rushing river.

So I gave him the facts. Very basic. Nothing about the seeds and daddy's role. Nothing about loving relationships or healthy expressions of your needs and desires. Or the anatomy.

So I ask you my beloved readers: you gotta help me out here. Anyone got a script I can read from. I just don't think my "when you bleed you're not having a baby and when you don't you are" will put him off for much longer.

And be quick about it. I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown here.

Biting

Abigail bit Sebastian this morning.

Biting is common in young children. It stems from the frustration of not being able to communicate effectively and all that emotion just bubbles over and they lash out. I get that. There are a couple people at the office I wish I could bite.

So I was going to get them talking.

I sat the two of them down on their respective beanbags in the middle of the playroom and made them look at each other for 2 hours. During that time they could do nothing but talk to each other.

No TV, no crayons, no books, no computer, no games, nothing. Just each other.

I asked them to tell the other how they felt about each other.

And then I left them to it.

When I returned (having snuck a peek or two to make sure they hadn't killed each other) I was ecstatic to find that at the end of the time Sebastian was giving Abigail a foot massage and telling her about how much fun it is when they go camping together.

A parenting success.

Academy Awards

I am a huge movie fan. But with the announcement of the Oscar nominations I am feeling a bit out of touch.

I went to fill out my cool interactive Oscar ballot and realised that I've only seen 1 of the films nominated. I had only heard of one of the directors and the one actress nominated in a film I had seen was actually not that good of a film and seriously over acted by Cate Blanchett.

I am going to blame this all on my children. Going to the cinema before children was a relatively cheap way to spend the evening. But the cost of a babysitter is more expensive then the cinema tickets.

Of course, it is not entirely the children's fault. Film times don't help either. On Friday and Saturday nights the films either start before 7 or after 9. Before 7 is not an option because I would hate to saddle our babysitters with the bath and bed routine. And by 9 I just want to cuddle up in bed.

I must be getting old.

Developmental Milestones

I used to hate it when people would tell me to enjoy every minute of my children growing up. They tell me it all happens so fast. I would think to myself buried under mountains of laundry and dirty dishes exhausted from school runs and sleepless nights. This business of growing up can't happen fast enough.

But it does. And not in the way you think.

Oh sure, they learn to feed themselves. They learn to walk. Together you figure out potty training. and you send them off to school. One day they will leave home and more than likely start families of their own.

But these are the big milestones, the ones captured on video cameras and stacks of photographs. They pass through these developmental milestones and we brag to our friends and families.

But the milestones that pass far too quickly are the every day moments that just slip through your fingers. The ones where if you are not paying attention can completely escape your notice. the ones that once gone will be missed the most.

This morning my children got themselves bowls of cereal and glasses of juice whilst Marc and I slept. They didn't need our help at all.

This evening we sat down as a family to watch a film. I didn't have much hope. Most of our film viewing is either films suitable for the children and bore Marc and I stiff. Or the grownups find the films interesting and the children are bored stiff after 20 minutes.

Tonight we watched Whale Rider. Together. As a family. The children were gripped by the incredible story. Both asked us questions when they struggled to understand the subtleties of this poignant film. Sebastian gave us a rousing film review when it was over.

Our Christmas tree went up this afternoon. Marc hates decorating for Christmas and I have for the past 6 years done this tradition on my own taking extra care to make sure the children didn't break anything.

Tonight Marc put up the tree and hung the lights. I got out the boxes of decorations and Sebastian and Abigail got busy. In no time all the decorations were on the tree. Oh sure, I had to redistribute the decorations a bit to ensure there were some on the top but by and large they did it themselves.

The tree is beautiful and I was happy and sad at the same time as I watched them at work. Happy to see them having so much fun and doing such a beautiful job with boundless enthusiasm; Sad that we are one step closer to that point in time when they will have trees of their own.

There will come a time when Sebastian will no longer kiss and cuddle me with such wild abandon. There will come a time when Abigail doesn't tell me everything that happens during her day.

This afternoon our family posed for our 2007 family photograph. The photographer was a family friend who was trying out some new lighting. She was doing this for us as a favour and in return we were letting her get used to her new equipment. My children didn't complain. They pretended to be models and posed endlessly for her. They were polite and funny and charming. I was proud to be their mother.

I am relieved that I will have these photographs in years to come. They will remind me of today, a day when my children reminded me to enjoy every minute of my time with them. It doesn't last forever.

TO MY CHILD

Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and laugh when I feel like crying.

Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and smile and say how perfect it is.

Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry and pick you up and take you to the park to play. Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you teach me how to put that puzzle of yours together.

Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the computer off, and sit with you in the backyard and blow bubbles.

Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.

Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be when you grow up, or second guess every decision I have made where you are concerned.

Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't stand over you trying to fix them.

Just for this afternoon, I will take us to McDonald's and buy us both a Happy Meal so you can have both toys.

Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story about how you were born and how much I love you.

Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the tub and not get angry.

Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the porch and count all the stars.

Just for this evening, I will snuggle beside you for hours, and miss my favourite TV shows.

Just for this evening when I run my finger through your hair as you pray, I will simply be
grateful that God has given me the greatest gift ever given. I will think about the mothers and fathers who are searching for their missing children, the mothers and fathers who are visiting their children's graves instead of their bedrooms. The mothers and fathers who are in hospital rooms watching their children suffer senselessly and screaming inside that little body

And when I kiss you goodnight I will hold you a little tighter, a little longer. It is then, that I will thank God for you, and ask him for nothing, except one more day.............

Editors Note: I do not know who wrote this. It was forwarded to me my a school mum - thanks, Nadia!

Another Care Package

My mother sent her grandchildren some surprises in a box.

Abigail was thrilled to be Dora kitted! She loves the sunglasses and the handbag! She didn't want to wear the hat because she thought it covered up her sunglasses. HINT: New Dora PJs would make a wonderful Christmas pressie. Hers have run their course and are headed for the bin if I can ever get them off of her!

And Sebastian had the best time ever doing his Magic Crystal Garden. Actually even the adults (including the neighbours) were amazed with the outcome of the garden. The bad news was in the morning one of the tress got accidentally knocked over when we had to move it out of the way for breakfast. The next day the whole thing got destroyed when Abigail accidentally dropped her dolly on the mountain.

We had massive tears and tantrums. He was so upset he was inconsolable.

So we put in an emergency request to Grandma for additional Magic Gardens and she delivered!

Thanks, Grandma. You're the Best! I especially say thanks for the Reese's Peanut Butter cups - mmm mmm good!

PS Please do not send any more blue or yellow tack. The dog eats it and I have to keep throwing it away.

Love in a Box

At this time of year my children are preparing for their Harvest Festival at school.

I've told you before how much I love autumn. One of the reasons I love autumn is it is harvest time. We celebrate our fortunes and pray that we have harvested enough to feed us throughout the cold barren winter. Well, at least that is the idea. Nowadays we just import what we don't have and many people I know don't give a second thought to buying out of season fruits and vegetables. Very few people I know can or freeze their summer garden produce. Very few people I know even have summer gardens.

And this summer our garden was a complete catastrophe. How lucky I am to have the option of a supermarket.

One of the traditions at St George's School is to participate in the Love in a Box Program. The idea is the you collect items for a girl and a boy within selected age ranges and fill a bx with goodies and useful stuff.

So in goes toothbrushes, toothpaste, face cloths, scarves, hair brushes, combs. and then in go fun stuff like cuddly toys and modelling clay, and coloured pencils and notebooks. Of course, we also include chocolates and sweets. the best part is when I ask the children to go to their toy boxes and pick out their favourite toys to give away.

I'm amazed at their generosity. Maybe I shouldn't be. My children are fortunate to have a lot. They have so much they will probably hardly notice or miss what they have given away. But in that moment, they have chosen something that is special to them and given it to someone else far less fortunate than them.

How lucky I am to have them!

Impetigo

Sebastian got an infection in the cuticle of his middle finger 3 weeks ago. A few days later he was diagnosed with impetigo in the corner of his mouth. After treating both with oral antibiotics and antibacterial cream it all cleared up. I was rather happy that he only missed one day of school due to the weekend.

On Friday Abigail came home from the childminder with what appeared to be impetigo spots on her chest. We treated it with antibacterial cream to no avail. Today we went back to the doctor who confirmed it was impetigo. She is now on oral antibiotics.

When the doctor asked them if they picked their nose they both told her that they did. She told them it was a dirty habit and they shouldn't do it. Seb told her that sometimes that was the only way to really get the deep boogies out of his nose. She didn't have an answer for that one.

I doubt I will have to tell my children to stop picking their nose for a long time.

Child Free Shopping

When my children were enjoying their time with their Granny this summer, Marc & I went shopping. OK, this might sound like an odd way to spend quality time with your husband but trust me, it was divine.

We didn't have to stop every 15 feet to go to the toilet.

We wondered through a book store and actually browsed the book shelves rather than grabbing random things that caught our eye as we kept everything else from tumbling down in the wake of our children running full throttle through the aisles.

We bought stuff for ourselves and nothing for the children.

We ate lunch out. Just the two of us. We each ordered for ourselves and no one else. I drank my drink without having to give any a taste. I had to cut only my food. I actually finished every thought and sentence I had.

My husband and I finished discussions that have been going on in our house for the last 4 years.

We didn't rush to get home to save paying for an extra hour for the babysitter.

No one threw a tantrum when it was time to go (ok, I did throw a little one but only because the day had to end!)

Marc even enjoyed the shopping! A little bit.

It was a dream!

No Noise

My husband and I spent the day relaxing and tidying after 2 solid weeks of holiday mach 10 hair on fire activity! The house was sooooo quiet. Things stayed put where you put them and rooms that you had previously tidied, stayed tidied. They didn't suddenly morph into disaster zones whilst you went upstairs to change the bed linens. Amazing.

We then went out to dinner last night. (Wagamama's in Windsor - one of our favs!) We talked. To each other. For 3 whole hours without a single interruption. Except the waiter. Which doesn't count because he brings you things! I love talking with my husband.

We came home. We went to bed without putting little ones on the loo. And I forgot to set my alarm which I don't normally need because I have 2 small children who wake at the crack of dawn. Oooops - gotta get to work!

Mom My Ride

Donkey Derby

Yesterday was the commencement of the Old Windsor Carnival. The fair always starts with a donkey derby and fireworks on the Friday.

I packed a picnic for a family of 8 despite only having a family of 4. I always over pack picnics. We met up with a couple families who live in the village and some whose children go to Sebastian's school. Good thing I over packed as a couple didn't bring a picnic. So I served up the whole lot of them. I love feeding people.

The children ran around and wore themselvess out playing with loads of other children.

The donkeys raced and it seems the jockeys were able to stay on better than they did last year. The dads in the group kept the children fired up about gambling. They would read out the names for the next race. The children would pick their favourites. And the bets would be placed. A couple people won a couple pounds. But mostly our money went to benefit the community and charity.

The part I loved most about the evening was how everyone knew everyone else. Our little group grew and grew. We saw the children's childminder. We saw Sebastian's riding coach. We saw the osteopath on whose table my water broke.

We watched the sunset which was spectacular. Abigail was the one who brought everyone's attention to it by pointing to the sky saying "Look, the sky pink." She wasn't joking!

Everyone put on their jackets for the fireworks display which is fabulous. On the village green, set to music, fireworks light up all the spectator's faces. The children cry out "Oooooh" & "Aaaaah!" right on cue. Abigail, who isn't exactly fond of fireworks, covered herself (head and all) with a blanket, laid down on a girl's lap and stayed there the entire time. that's her under the blanket in the photo! Seb cuddled up to me and put one ear against my shoulder. And then put his hands over his eyes. OK, maybe I shouldn't take my children to fireworks displays....but I love them!

Sushi is a Favourite

I just read this article in the NYTimes (online edition). One Word: Amen!

We have friends who cook separate meals for thie children. I've never quite gotten that. I don't have time. And I won't pay for that. My children eat what we eat. If they don't like it, there is always breakfast. As a result, Sebastian's favourite food is sushi. Abigail likes spicy food. They both love tacos. Neither of them are fans of curry. Seb is a fan of lamb and Abigail loves fish (any and all).

We try to include them in the meal planning. So they choose spaghetti or pizza a couple times a month. But they eat almost all vegetables. With the exception of peas and brussels sprouts which I refuse to cook because I can't stand the smell or taste.

We have the occasional night out for Marc and I and one these evenings I serve up some fish fingers. The children do love them. But it is not the mainstay of their diet!

Children in the Workplace

This week is half-term for school children. And my childminder took a week of holiday and went to Turkey with her family with a weeks notice. So, Marc & I are trying to juggle child care and work.

Yesterday I solved the problem of having meetings in the morning by taking Sebastian to my office with me. We packed up his little Power Rangers backpack with his Nintendo DS Lite and some games, some coloured pencils and some puzzle books. We dressed him in a smart looking shirt (blue button down) and chinos - the corporate uniform. We combed his hair so that it was flat.

On the drive to the office you could feel his excitement buzzing out of the back seat. Wish I felt that excited about going to work every day. We went through the "Behaviour Drill". These are the rules of best behaviour:

1. Remember to say please and thank you.
2. Use your inside voice.
3. Shake people's hand when you meet them.
4. Speak clearly and look people in the eye when they talk with you.
5. No running around like a crazy maniac.

I was just hoping for adherence to number 5. Although I would like to do that some days at the office.

He walked across the parking lot holding my hand. He was very impressed with the lift (elevator). He got to press the required button for my floor. He liked the idea of my security card access and thought we should put those on all the doors at home. He was super impressed with my desk. I was just impressed to have a desk that day.

My first meeting was just at my desk with one other person and Sebastian was happy to play with his Nintendo next to me. My next meeting was in a conference room with 10 other people. When we walked into the meeting room, Sebastian turned red and collapsed behind my chair. He was scared to death. I suddenly viewed the situation through the eyes of a 5 year old.

There were 9 big (tall) people (all men, not unusual in my company) looking very serious and self-important dressed in shirts and ties. Not a smile among them. No one was happy to be there.

I quickly got out his coloured pencils, grabbed some flip chart paper and sat on the floor with him. The meeting started and Sebastian sat on the floor happily drawing what he later described as a cowboy bear. He didn't interrupt once. Never said a word. And I conducted the meeting sitting on the floor. Whole new perspective!

I went to the next meeting with just 3 of my colleagues. One of my colleagues brought Sebastian some apple juice. Another colleagues gave him a chair and a place at the table. He drew for the next hour whilst we merrily conducted our business. Occasionally, one of my colleagues would shown an interest in what he was doing and he would politely (if a bit slowly)describe what he was drawing. Then he would carry on. And so would we.

The highlight of my day was when we went to lunch together in our canteen (cafeteria). Sebastian made friends with the cafeteria staff and he got some chips (french fries). I got a sandwich and some crisps (potato chips). We got our drinks. He showed me where the ketchup was. I never knew before!

And then we sat a chatted about the day so far. I never do that. I very rarely even break for lunch. Oh, I know everything I read says I should but quite frankly, there are a lot of things I should do every day that I don't. Like floss. Sitting there with my son and sharing his perspective on his morning in my office was exhilarating. He said I talk to a lot of people. And I sound really clever. He said it looks like I work really hard.

Mostly, I was just proud of him beyond belief. Today, I've gotten voicemail and email from colleagues who met him yesterday telling me what an extraordinary individual he his and how happy they were to meet him. Well, duh! What did you expect?

I think we should all take our children into the office with us periodically. Let them see what this place is that demands so much time and attention away from them. After my father retired from horse racing he drove a long haul truck. He delivered swinging beef from Denver to Chicago. Not sure what came back in the trailer. He took me with him once. I never realised how hard he worked til then.

But it was a dangerous job. Trucks are involved in horrific road traffic accidents. He was in one once where 3 teenagers died. He got mugged at gun point once in Chicago. Truck stops were full of dodgy characters and he didn't want to take me to the men's room and he didn't want me to go to the ladies on my own. I was angry with him for only letting me go with him only once. He took my brothers with him much more often. But he could take them into the men's room with him he said. I didn't get that then. I soooo get that now.

Luckily, my job is not dangerous, although those 9 men in the conference room certainly left Seb with the impression that it might be. Take your children (or someone else's) to work with you. Show them what you do. They will enrich your day!

Poignant Lessons

One of the best shows (I actually think there were 2 shows) that Oprah ever did was about a mother who was dying of cancer. She had a young daughter and she knew she didn't have time to teach and the young girl wasn't ready to learn all the lessons that a mother teaches her daughter over a lifetime. So she made videos. There are hours and hours of this mother talking to her daughter teaching her the important skills for life.

The lessons included:

• How to put on makeup
• How to shave your legs
• How to put on panty hose (tights)
• How to dance
• How to dress for a date and a job interview
• How to pick a college
• What to look for in a husband
• Clothing basics that should be in every woman's closet
• When to splurge on quality and when to make do
• When to respect authority and when to rebel against the machine
• How to ask for a raise
• When to quit a job and when to stick it out

As I watched this, I thought of all the things my mother has taught me. Some of these skills I use and some I have tailored to meet my own individuality. Some of it is no longer relevant (you don't have to wear gloves anymore)!

Thanks Mom!

Walking Down Stairs

We live in a very old house. It appears in the 1895 census so it is at least over 110 years old. the stairs at steep and always makes me nervous when I go up and down. It makes me absolutely shiver with fear when my children go down. Sebastian is tall enough to hold on to the hand rail. Abigail on the other hand has not been tall enough. We have insisted, much to her disgust, that she go down backwards. She hates that. She wants t do what ever Shake (Seb) does.

Today my daughter walked down our stairs standing up tall holding on to the hand rail. All by herself. She was so proud of herself. I shed a few tears. My baby is growing up.

And this is how it goes. From the minute a child are born everything they do serves the purpose to make them independent, separate from you. If you are a good parent everything you do contributes to this. You want to raise adults, not big people who are dependent on you. But sometimes, just for a moment, I want the whole process to stop. I want to keep them little. I want them to need me. I want to carry them down stairs. I want to always tuck them into bed and read them a story. I want to pick out what they wear. I want to feel their little hands in mine and feel them breath when they cuddle with you.

A few days ago I went to pick up Sebastian. I suddenly realised he was too big for me to carry. Oh my god, when did that happen? I am now insisting on carrying Abigail everywhere, just so that doesn't happen without me noticing. I know that can't last forever and I know I don't want it to. But why must it all happen oh so fast?