Halloween

1 Girls are down for a pre-Halloween eve nap. I've told Eva "No nap = no trick or treat" and she seems to be having a bit of trouble understanding the concept. I hate being the hammer, but she'll be one miserable little coot tonight if she doesn't catch a few zzzs. Not quite sure what I do if she actually doesn't sleep, ultimately. That was a dumb correlation for me to make - am I actually enough of a meanie to TAKE AWAY HALLOWEEN FROM MY CHILD? Probably not. Argh. I always thought I'd be an airy fairy hippy dippy mom. Instead I'm Cruella de Vil.

2. We are sick. All of us. Adele probably has it the worst; she's bubbling snot like Old Faithful bubbles hot water. And she's so fiercely independent, she doesn't even want us to wipe her nose for her - she wants to do it for herself. The result is dried snot all over her face and a toddler that looks like a wee Oscar the Grouch.

I must say, however, I love how Adele pronounces "booger" with a French accent: "Boogeur" with a little roll on the "R". It almost makes it fun to wipe away "les boogeurs".

3. Eva did two class projects out of entirely recycled-recyclable materials. One is a beanbag game, which is the project she actually entered in the competition at school (and lost but who cares). The other is a boat about the size of the kitchen table. I know the size is comparable because it has now been sitting on our kitchen table for many, many days.

And not because we LIKE it.

I have been trying to recycle that damned boat for TWO WEEKS NOW.

TWICE I have put it in the weekly recycling bin, only to have Eva shriek in shock and overly-dramatic offense that we are THROWING AWAY HER BEAUTIFUL CREATION and rescue the blasted thing from the bin. And then eventually it finds its way back to the kitchen table.

This time, I'm gonna bury that sucker SO DEEP DOWN IN THE BIN, it'll take a freaking DRILLING RIG to get it back. That boat is gonna strike oil!

THURSDAY MORNING. THE RECYCLING TRUCKS ROLL.

Random

1. Etienne and I were in the kitchen prepping lunch today, while Addie played on the floor and Eva sat quietly reading in a chair.

Suddenly, and with no apparent reason, Eva said, "You know, sometimes we all have stress in our lives. But that's okay. We can't help it. It's not our fault"

Etienne and I just sort of stopped working and stared at each other...wondering what psychoanalyst's ghost had possessed our elder child. Or what problem she was working through at school. Or what the heck she was talking about.

But that was it...she just quietly went back to Geronimo Stilton.

2. Had a brief but heated debate with Adele tonight, as to whether a camel in a book was a CHAMEAU or a CAMEL. Sorry kid. Check whose lap you're sitting in; that'll tell you if it's a chameau or a camel. And considering your bony little butt is currently destroying my upper thigh muscles, I'd suggest you just accept the fact that AT THIS PARTICULAR MOMENT IN TIME, IT'S A CAMEL.

3. Took Adder to Tim Horton while Eva was at dance class this morning.

We bought an old-fashioned glazed donut and got ourselves settled to share.

We were sitting by the window - a cold, grey day with rain pelting down. The donut was soft and unbelievably fresh and I was so happy to share such a sweet little moment with Adele.

I broke the donut into four parts and handed one to her.

She didn't even finish it. Took two bites and set it down, disinterested.

REFUSING TO FINISH A DONUT??? THE HECK???

My child, how you disappoint me.

4. Went to Evita's "Green Day" at school (well, it's actually called something else but I have no idea what the direct translation is). Everyone is supposed to send in old skates and coats and clothes and books and homemade cookies and so on to sell, raising money for a school in Nepal. We sent some stuff last week and then made four dozen cinnamon snap cookies this morning (Holy last minute, Batman!) and Etienne went off to volunteer at the sale while the trolls and I were at Eva's dance class.

We stopped by afterwards and watched Eva cavort with her friends and compete to see who could jam the most baked goods into their mouths.

Disturbed but also somewhat impressed by Adele's unrelenting efforts to escape our evil clutches and melt into the crowd. That kid will make an excellent spy one day.

5. Had to laugh at the playground, despite my distaste for graffiti on CHILDREN'S TOYS.

Some jackass had taken a magic marker to the slide and drawn male and female private bits on it.

There were some little lines between the two, as if to indicate motion or something, but the whole thing looked like it was done by some blind kid during an earthquake, so it wound up looking vaguely like an ice cream cone talking to an amoeba.

Kid, if you're going to go embrace danger and anarchy and start making your mark in the hood by scrawling graffiti on playground equipment, KINDLY FINISH THAT ART CLASS FIRST.

6. Swimming tomorrow. It's my turn to swim with Adele in her parent-child class. Gotta go make myself presentable - i.e. scrape my legs. They're like Christmas trees.

Now beat it, kid

Adele, my tiny tornado, shaking her head as she watches me beat some eggs:

"NO NO NO, Mama. GENTLY. We do it GENTLY"

Apparently our little dictator DOES understand when we issue the same directive.

She's just ignoring us.

As I suspected.

Thankful

It's Thanksgiving here in Canada...and more than anything, I'm thankful for my beautiful family.

We had a marvellous, sweet, quiet day.

We went to the park in the morning...Etienne and I hugging our coffees while the girls climbed and crawled and jumped and dug in the sand with chilly little fingers. I pushed Addie in the swing FOREVER - she screamed "FIRE!!!!" whenever her momentum started to drop. I kept trying to explain that the word is actually "HIGHER" but she never quite got it.

This afternoon, the three girls in the house NAPPED (woo hoo!) while Etienne went off on his own for a bit.

And then our awesome dinner...turkey roast, homemade cranberry-orange sauce, mashed potatoes, and maple-glazed brussels sprouts. Everything was easy peasey to cook...but FREAKING DELICIOUS. We didn't really have much by way of dessert, although I'd made applesauce earlier in the day and that was enough to satisfy Evita's sweet tooth.

It really was a wonderful, quiet day...I think we all needed a day at home with no obligations and no commitments...nothing major to do...leftovers in the fridge for lunch...supper all planned and easy enough to put together. We toasted the holiday with glasses of wine (E and I) and apple juice (the girls).

Really lovely.

Really lucky.

Really thankful.

THIS JUST IN

*****BREAKING NEWS*******

Eva L. is dropping out of the Grade One class presidential race.
The six year old made the announcement yesterday at her home in Montreal.
Sources close to the candidate say she'd run out of time to complete a campaign poster and speech.
When family members suggested she already had homework to do and should drop the campaign, Eva had this to say:

DALET 51555
IN: sfx (heavy sigh)
RUNS: :03
OUT: "Okay"

Eva: "Sigh........okay"

Eva says she still may consider a run for class president next year.
Family members say they will support Eva in anything she chooses to do...but homework has to come first.

Holey moley

So yesterday, Eva comes home from school with a hole in her shirt.

Her nice, brand-new Mexx shirt that she was wearing for the first time.

It was a tiny hole, about two millimetres in diameter (about 1/4 inch, Heather).

But a hole, nonetheless.

Me: "How did you get a hole in your shirt?"

Eva: "Are you going to get mad?"

Me: "I don't know. If you caught it in your zipper, no. (Laughingly) If you took a pair of scissors and deliberately poked a hole in your shirt, then yeah, probably."

Eva, eyes filling with tears: "YOU'RE GOING TO GET MAD!!!"

Me: BLINK BLINK

Crickets chirp quietly in the background as I try to process the fact that my daughter who can find fifty countries on a map and read and write and do math and make banana bread all by herself and sing songs in ten languages and remember the names of every man, woman, and child she has ever met and and who is running for president of her class just TOOK A PAIR OF SCISSORS AND POKED A POLE IN HER BRAND NEW SHIRT FOR FUN.

So yeah, I did get mad eventually.

Not for long...but I did threaten to give all of her beloved pink clothes away and to buy her nothing but THE UGLIEST BLACK AND BROWN CLOTHES I CAN FIND for the rest of her natural life, AND WELL INTO HER SECOND CAREER IN HEAVEN.

And now I fully understand why my own mom got mad at me, that time I lost my brand-new gymnastics outfit in grade one (sorry for that one, Mom!!! Love ya!!!)

Crazy kid.

Madame President

Eva has decided she wants to be class president.

I know this is the part where I am supposed to express my delight in my sweet little Type-A offspring's desire to lead; to inspire her schoolmates; to make a difference in her little six-year-old's world.

And a part of me is delighted. No question.

But another piece of me worries that she's setting herself up for disappointment. In her words, "three or five and maybe more" - of the twenty kids have the same lofty dreams of power.

The fact that she decided to throw her hat into the ring a full day into the week-long campaign can't help. Some other kids already showed up this morning flashing posters with HANDLES MADE FROM BROOMSTICKS (these are parents who like colour-coded flashcards, remember). Eva also informed me that one kid has a poster made by his parents.

I think it also can't help that her interest doesn't really seem to lie in BEING PRESIDENT...I think she just likes the idea of making a poster.

Evita likes to draw.

SO...my sweet little firstborn is indeed making a poster. And coming up with a speech and a campaign slogan. (Etienne helpfully suggested "Yes We Can".....which then prompted "The Audacity of Hope"...and many giggles from the parental peanut gallery.)

Tonight we talked a bit about her campaign speech, asking her what she planned to say about herself.

Her response: "I want to say that I'm AUTONOMOUS."

Hubba Wha?

ANYWAY.

Tomorrow she will complete her campaign poster; a poster that currently features a tree, a bush, a heart, two cats with long curly eyelashes, a stray set of floating facial features (minus a nose), two children playing soccer, a mouse with huge ears, a flower, a garbage can, a compost bin, and a recycling logo.

Tomorrow, we'll also figure out what the heck she's going to say in her speech.

Sigh.

We'll get there.

Autonomous. The environment.

YES, SHE CAN.