The Piano Man

Jack began piano in September in the Music for Young Children program. I cannot say enough good things about this program although it is rather on the expensive side. However, it is so much better than just sticking them in private lessons (depending on the teacher obviously) because they get a well rounded music education. Learning to play the piano is only a fraction of the learning. Let's just say that music makes a whole lot more sense to me now and I played piano as a kid and was in band. Yes, band. I knew barely enough to read the music and barely was able to play. I actually didn't blow into my clarinet when we did competitions. I didn't want to be the one who squeaked during a competition. I would have died of embarrassment. Yes, I was 15, why do you ask?

How did I start talking about myself? Sheesh. This is about Jack. He has worked really hard and required a bit (OH my word am I exhausted) of encouraging. He is a bit of a perfectionist and if he can't do it 100% right the first time well you would think someone died. No idea who he gets this from (looks around innocently).

He progressed leaps and bounds in mere months and is now playing two handed songs in several keys.

This last Sunday was the Spring recital and he had been practicing his piece for over a month with great success. However, due to a printing error he was thrown off a bit by the addition of some chords at the last minute - as in less than a week before said recital. However, despite all the practicing (and oh my word the encouraging) he mangaged to play it as if he'd been doing so for the last 8 months.

This mommy had tears in her eyes when he finished.

Jack, you can accomplish anything if you set your mind to it. We are so proud of you!

Finding Me Again

My last post sparked another post, funny how that works. It seems that some of you can relate to my ramblings about finding myself on the other side of the mommy trenches. In fact, someone asked how I have gone about that.

I don't really think I did it consciously.

I realized that couldn't be the mother of small children forever. I think we all to often don't visualize beyond the early years of motherhood when we dream of becoming a mother. Once that phase passes, we wonder what we are supposed to do with ourselves. We lose what has defined us for so long, dare I say, even before we actually became mothers.

I always knew I wanted to be a mother. I was 4 years old and pretending with my dolls. Of course, being me, I was realistic about it, fully thinking that the only thing that might stop me is not finding my one and only. At age 19 I did find him and he, too, wanted children. It was no longer if, it was when.

And then I blinked and my baby was starting kindergarten. I remember feeling a bit lost and torn about the approaching first day of school. My days as a stay at home mom to little boys were over.

I wallowed in that for a bit and then like I always do, I moved on. The truth is, yes, that part of my life is over but my life is no where near over. In fact, when I sit down and think about it for 5.2 seconds, it is full, full of blessings.

Family time with boys that no longer need their butts wiped but instead can have intelligent, funny and deep conversations with me. We can play the adult version of Monopoly. Easily. There is much less screaming and crying and more laughing and joking (I know, I should be over the crying part but it takes time, you know).

Now that Jack and Kamden are almost 9 and 6 (gasp!), I have much more time for me. I get the impression that some mothers consider me time incredibly selfish. I never have but perhaps that is because I am a bit on the selfish side. Or realistic. I prefer to think it is the latter. Without me time, I get grouchy, resentful and down right awful to live with. I have never believed in being resentful, instead I make things happen. I prioritize. I make me as important as laundry, cleaning and work afterall I am a many things, mother being one of them.

This is how I found me again.

I watched other moms who worked from home. I took a risk, tried it out and made it happen.

I watched other moms who were fit and active and I wanted it too, so I made it happen.

I watched others take amazing photos and post them on their blogs. I was inspired. I picked up my camera and played. It's become a hobby that I love. There is no pressure, only joy because I can pick it up and drop it as wish. My aspirations are only to capture the memories for me and my family.

I watched (and still do) other moms and people be good friends. I am still working on being a better friend, mother, wife, daughter and sister. It's a life long journey. But again, it won't happen unless I make it happen.

I have always been a big believer in the fact that I am in charge. I am captaining this here ship and it goes where I choose. Naturally there are storms and waves that rock the path but that just gives me different choices and opportunities. I have to roll with it.

I think that I began to find me again when Kamden was only a baby and I made the decision to work from home and it's been a process and a journey since. That decision and each decision I have made since has been made with my heart.

When I was a kid and the song by Whitney Houston, "The Greatest Love of All" was popular, I remember my mom saying to me that she wished someone had told her to love herself when she was a kid. I have never forgotten those words and have tried to live by them. My philosophy is that if I don't love something about myself then I change it. Granted this is easier said than done but I have come to learn that never trying is the biggest disservice I could ever do myself or my family.

I am, and always will be, so many things, one of which is Mommy to these two incredible beings.

Again, With the Random

So I have no post material. No ideas. Even less motivation. But here I am trying to post. I lost my mojo. I am blaming the lack of comments. It can't possibly be my fault. How could it?

I used to regularly get around 20 comments per post. TWENTY. Now, if I get ten I am rocking it. I wonder why no one likes me anymore but this shouldn't be a pity party, who wants to read that?

The lack of dinging in my email has me here, rambling about nothing. Frankly I am boring myself by this point. Enough about that except I must first give a big shout out to my peeps (how lame do I sound trying to be all cool? Yes, pretty lame.) who regularly or irregularly comment. I greatly appreciate it. M'wah, giant air kiss and hug!

On to bigger and more annoying things. Like the fact that my thyroid has decided to start underpeforming. All kinds of awesome. It's still normal but it's dropped and because my body already annihilated my ovaries, it's pretty safe to assume it's now targeting my thyroid. I don't really need my ovaries but my thyroid is kind of nice, you know?

Don't worry, I got over my funk about that pretty quick. In the grand scheme of things, it's no big deal but it's still a bit hard to hear that your own body is kind of letting you down. At least, it is for me.

Speaking of my ovaries (really, were we? no wonder I don't post anymore) I came to realize that I really am at peace with my life. I feel fulfilled by my career, my fitness commitment and most importantly by my family. My boys are so much fun and don't "need" me like they once did. Once you come out the other side you can find yourself again and you didn't even realize you were missing. My identity has become mine again. It's not just Jack and Kamden's mom but it's Kami, who is many things, one of which is Jack and Kamden's mom. That might sound a bit selfish but I'll be honest, I don't honestly believe solely being a mother can be completely fulfilling to anyone. It's like all things, it requires a balance. I feel like right now, all the balls are in the air and I've got things under control. Dear Murphy, ignore me, there is nothing you need to see here. Move along. Thanks.

Stay tuned. Maybe I'll get my mojo back for blogging or at least keep posting random photos with words that say nothing. How can you resist?

Hmm, I thought we were done with baby stage

Today, my "babies" took it upon themselves to re-attach the baby swing to the swing set.

Hmm, still cute but stressing the weight restrictions slightly.

This one is still cute too but the bigger baby is pushing him a bit too high for this Mommy's liking. You know because the safety straps are broken.

And here I thought we didn't have any more babies around here. Who knew?

The Corruption of a Sweet Little Girl

Back last August, I introduced my friend's twins, Rachel and Alex. Rachel also happens to be my Goddaughter and she is, by some strange phenomenon, taking after me in some small ways. Case in point, her shoe and boot fetish (her mom, Candace, already did a post on that).

So of course, being the diligent Godmother, I strive to foster her interests. Isn't that my role? Of course it is, that and some other important stuff.

Naturally this involves something I am very good at, shopping for stylish boots. If she is going to have a boot fetish, she needs to get her collection started off on the right foot (ha!).

A few weeks ago when the wet weather was here, these were prefect.

The above photos is courtesy of Candace.

But now that it has dried up, she needs another pair. Rubber boots are so three weeks ago. We can't have her wearing outdated boots. Not on my watch.

I thought these were perfect:

Am I right or am I right? The cutest, right? And chocolate brown coordinates so nicely with pink and blue and denim...the list goes on and on. These are a good solid classic pair of boots, perfect for her growing collection.

But this is not where my influence ends. Oh no. If I am going to go about my job as Godmother, I am not going to only put in 85%, only a 110% will do.

So yesterday, when she reached for my coffee cup, I just watched (or snapped photos, same thing). It was time to introduce her to my second fetish. See the questioning look in her eyes? She's totally waiting for me to say no.

See the smirk? That's the look what I did and you are not scolding me look.

The peanut gallery, naturally, has a comment or two and Rachael listens patiently.

Fully thinking, whatever lady, I got the cup, I am seeing how far I can go with this adventure.

*wah, wah, whah* The peanut gallery still had a lot to say. Always graceful and attentive, Rachel listens patiently until she gets the chance to sit down and see what the buzz is all about.

"Why does Mami (what she calls me and basically melts me into a puddle of goo every single time) seem to always be sucking on this cup?"

Shhh, we won't tell her about the vodka just yet.

" What is in here that is so good? "

"I gotta know. "

Uh oh, maybe there was some vodka in there. Nah, I wouldn't have left any of that behind.

See, this girl after my own heart, well I have to make sure she gets started on her caffeine addiction early. What? Her parents are tall, and it's such a challenge to find good pants when you are tall.

(No toddlers were harmed by coffee in the making of this post. The coffee was lukewarm at best (no vodka I promise, because ewwwww) and there was very little in the cup at all. Not to mention the spout was closed. Mental damage by association with me, well it's a risk with every exposure.)

Yup, I'm crazy

I got me some random opinions I want to share and you know since it's my blog, you are forced to read them. Ha. Actually if you do read my ramblings I am honoured. I threw in some random photos because I am in a zone with my camera right now (manual mode only thankyouvermuch) and having so much fun developing my hobby 'cause that's all I ever intend it to be. I know that is stating the obvious given my skill level - just call me Captain Obvious - thanks for that one Lori, it's a keeper.

building a pull up bar - dude is buff

First it's time to refill my coffee. Ah, that's better. So I didn't give it up, in case you were wondering. I had a migraine one day last week (also a symptom of my lovely menopause because they only began about a year ago) and thought whatever. I feel like a piece of dog poop stuck to the bottom of someones shoe anyway, I am making a pot of coffee. And that's all it takes. One pot and I am brewing a pot daily.

Life is short. Time is precious. Coffee is good. End of story.

You will remind me of that next week when I swear I am quitting again, won't you? Great, thanks, I knew I could count on you.

Brothers at work - sandbox, best investment ever

I haven't talked Mother Earth crusade forever. Here's my latest and greatest. If I can smell laundry soap on you, you are using too much soap. I have a pretty keen sense of smell, just like my mom, and lately I have been noticing that a few people reek like Tide. Or Cheer. Or whatever. Here's the thing people, you only need a quarter of the amount they recommend on the bottle. That's right, a quarter. Unless you regularly douse yourself, fully clothed, in mud. I am guessing you don't which means your clothes are not dirty enough to warrant that much soap.

The manufacturer of the soap, see, they want to sell lots of soap. If you use lots, you buy more. See where I am going with this?

I should do an experiment because the thing is, if you can smell the soap that strongly on your clothes I am willing to bet you could put them in the washer with no soap next time and there would be suds. There is no way there isn't a tonne of soap left in the fabric of your clothes after the rinse when they smell that strongly. And then people use fabric softener in the rinse yet. Oy. It gives me a headache. I have two words for you. Dryer Balls. I have been using mine for years. There is no static and our clothes are very soft thanks.

Think of the money you will save on laundry soap and fabric softener.

Okay off my soap box (ha!) now. Oh wait, I have another one. iPhones. Apps for iPhones. Blackberry's. Blackberry pearls.

So. Sick. Of. Hearing. About. Them.

I am sure they are great but here's the thing. I don't, I repeat, I don't need one. On any level. I live in small city, Saskatchewan. I can drive 15 min and be anywhere in my fair city. That means I know my city - no maps required. I am, at any time 15 min away from my computer in case, you know, there is a crisis or something. We all know how often it is life or death if I can't get on the internet.

They have their place for business people especially those in big centers. But for everyday Mom like me, it's just another gadget that they are trying to trick me into buying because it's going to make my life so much better. Sorry I am not that gullible.

Oh and if you have one and are just like me, ignore me, like I said, my opinion, for me, about me. Friends?

could he be any cuter?

That reminds me of a ziplock commercial that I saw the other day. It was all about how much food people waste and that if you just bought ziplock bags to store them in well by golly gee, end of waste. I call bullsh!t. Sorry. Who doesn't store their food in some kind of bag or container already? If you answered yes, the for the love of Pete, please get some ziplock bags already. What are you waiting for?

I sometimes wonder about the marketers. I do. They have a very low opinion of average joe's intelligence. It's discrimination I tell you.

I mean, just because I regularly dump my spagetti and meatball leftovers on the fridge shelf, that makes you think I am an idiot? C'mon, work with me here.

I kind of love how much they love each other

And that concludes my submission for admission to the looney bin. I am thinking there's a pretty good chance I qualify. Just think of the blog fodder I'll accumulate there.

A Moment of Complete Clarity

We were driving between Jay's parents and my parents this past Easter weekend bathed in the beautiful golden twilight of the sun on the Prairie backdrop.

I looked over at my husband and back at my two sons and breathed a sign of contentment.

At that moment, I realized that all was right in my world.

It is so easy to get hung up in the mundane details of life and forget the bigger picture. But at that moment, I was right where I was supposed to be.

I still am. There really is no greater gift and I promise not to take it for granted for a second.