The Year of Choices

As My Young, Grade 7'er headed off to school this morning, I tagged along as an extra set of arms to assist with the excessive amounts of school supplies that he (and the Younger Grade 2'er that we are tending) toted off to school.

As we strolled down the street, I told My Son "This is the year you can choose to become involved in whatever interests you ..."

Throughout My Son's school days, our lives have been ruled by my daycare.

First, were the days when he was too young to be involved in any extra curricular activities. Our challenge in those days, was rounding up all that came to our home after school. It was a flurry of frenzied activity and responsibility. Counting heads, getting home quickly and basically ensuring that everyone made it home safe and sound.

Then, came the days when My Son was old enough to be in charge of walking my younger charges to and from school. I couldn't have done it without him. He was my biggest helper and I needed him.

As he grew into the older grades, he wanted to be a school safety patrol. He would have needed to be available before and after school. His responsibilities overruled his desires. He never complained. He just did what he had to do.

I don't know if he ever wanted to join any other before and after school activities. He never asked. It is my fear that he didn't ask or even tell me what his desires were, because he knew the answer.

As my Young Son was bemoaning the fact that he was not ready to go back to school this year, I gently tried to nudge his thinking in a new direction. "Keep your mind and ears open to all of the activities that interest you." "The people who have the happiest memories of school are the ones who became involved in school activities." "You can do anything this year. We will take care of our 'One Before/After School Charge' together. I can be available whenever you aren't." "This ... is the year of being able to do what you want to do!"

My Youngest found his name on the list of fellow classmates outside of the Grade 6/7 classroom door. I felt a great relief when I immediately spotted his friends names and saw many familiar faces. My Son saw that much sooner than I did. By the time I turned my head to tell him what he already knew, he was smiling. It's going to be a very good year. It could be the best year of his life so far.

Because this ... is the year of choices.

If ...

If ... I was still a full-time daycare provider, our summer holidays would have felt like summer holidays.

If ... I was still running my daycare, I wouldn't have had the chance to go back to school.

If ... I didn't go back to school, I never would have felt the endorphins released by learning.

If ... I didn't keep learning, I wouldn't have such faith that 'I can do anything!'.

If ... I didn't feel like I could do anything, I would be afraid to take chances.

If ... I was afraid of taking chances, I would be afraid to reach out and make new friends.

If ... I didn't have my friendships to fuel me, I would lose my enthusiasm.

If ... I lost my enthusiasm, I would lose the part of myself that keeps taking chances.

If ... I didn't take chances, I never would have become a daycare provider.

If ... I hadn't been a daycare provider, I wouldn't be who I am today.

If ... I wasn't who I am, who would I be??

I can't stop dreaming about my daycare days. They are over. The end of an era. There are so many good things that came out of my 12 years in daycare, that I can stop thinking about all that evolved because of the pivotal moment when I said the words aloud to a group of trusted friends, "I want to find a way to stay at home and be a Mom."

I knew who I wanted to be. I had searched for that all of my life. I made a vow that I would do whatever it took, to pay the bills. And I did it.

If ... I had to live the last 12 years of my life over again? I wouldn't change a thing.

The Longest ... Yet the Shortest Summer of My Life

As I stated in an RSVP to a friend, "... it is simply a month with not enough days to do all that I want/need to do, yet a month with too many days at the end of the money ..." That has been the story of my summer.

The summer holiday season came in with a bang. In the first week of summer, I participated in a dance camp, held a pot luck supper, had cousins over for a small gathering, went to visit my mom. And then ... came our new reality.

I had hopes and plans for the summer. A new 'tradition' was being formed - one where a group of friends went out on a semi regular basis. Summer is a hard time to co-ordinate these outings because people are away on holidays, entertaining out of town guests and just generally busy. But what I found most frustrating was my lack of time and money to keep the ball rolling. My new budget simply didn't have room for these extra curricular activities.

I had hoped that this would be the summer that I would be a tourist in my own city. Our Fair City offers a lot of entertainment over the city months. I have never taken part in these events but I thought 'this would be the year'. Summer came and went ... and I managed to take in two evenings of entertainment. Better than last year ... but not quite up to my expectations.

I was ready, willing and able to partake in spontaneous visits and trips. I have no regrets there. In fact, that is what this 'new life' is all about. But ...

The underlying theme of this summer has been 'the budget'. Not enough work; too much work/not enough hours in the week; budgeting my time for work; budgeting the funds I was (or wasn't making) by working. Budgeting and work! Work and budgeting! Too much fretting!

As I was saying good night to My Youngest last night, I reminded him that today was the last official day of holidays. School registration is tomorrow morning and it's back to the books on Tuesday. It was like watching a balloon deflate in front of my eyes. We are still waiting for the fun, carefree days of summer. Our summer came and went ... and we missed it.

I've been wishing the summer months away because there has been too much month left at the end of the money. Yet there haven't been enough days to work in all that I had hoped to do. I not only missed out on attending the party I had been invited to, I missed out on summer.

Summer of 2010. I blinked ... and it was over. Oh well, we can still make the most of the months ahead.

Holiday Reflections

Be it ever so humble ... there's no place like home! We are back. As it is, with any holiday (or any time I leave the house) I love coming home.

I had an hour long visit with my cousin (half way to our first holiday destination) and an hour long visit with a good friend before check-out time at our hotel (at our last holiday destination). 'My Boys' visited amongst themselves the entirety of our (almost) three day adventure. They swam, played their 'Nintendo DS Lite' games, explored the sights together and simply enjoyed themselves. And I was quiet.

I watched and listened to the rapport between My Son and his friend. They are opposite in many ways but their friendship works.

I marvelled at the way My Youngest handled some of his friend's behaviours. He separated the behaviour from the person and set 'limits' with his friend. Certain behaviours simply weren't acceptable, right or age appropriate. My Youngest treated his friend with respect, reined him in at times and they just kept right on with the fun and games at hand. I thought to myself, "If this is the result of growing up in a daycare, I'm grateful ..."

Once upon a time, I would have allowed these 'behaviour issues' to ruin my holiday. I would have focused on the negative, stuck my nose in where it didn't belong (My Son was handling these little scenarios perfectly - without drama or sacrificing the friendship) and it would have interfered with their own abilities to work through a moment.

I like what I see, when I watch My Youngest and how he handles things.

He's a quiet boy. He doesn't speak unless he has something to say. To those who don't know him well, he appears to be shy. But for those that find a topic they have in common, they see him differently. He becomes fully animated and passionate about things that excite him. I like the fact that he 'spends his words' wisely.

I listen to the way he speaks to other children. He is respectful with his words, sets boundaries and doesn't play with those that don't follow the rules. It started out with the fun and games that he orchestrated with my young daycare crowd. Then he took his expectations (that people play fairly) to school with him. There have been some frustrations, hurt feelings and growing pains along the way ... but at age 12, I like what I see.

I see a child who is firm in what he believes and expects. Fitting into the crowd doesn't seem to be what motivates him. Friends that are respectful, honest and treat him with kindness is more important.

I admire the fact that he can separate the behaviour from the person. It's possible to like a person despite their imperfections. Adults could learn from him.

I like the fact that My Youngest doesn't look to me to run interference. He's testing his wings and handling things on his own. At one point My Youngest turned to me in exasperation because his friend was bored and taking the fun out of an experience for him. But he was venting a moment of frustration and if anything, it seemed more of an apology for his friend's behaviour than a plea for help.

I was grateful for the quietness of this holiday and an opportunity to see My Youngest in a new light.

I asked him if he enjoyed the holiday, and he did. I asked if he was glad his friend came along. Despite the challenging moments, he didn't hesitate for a moment and he told me that he was glad that his friend came along. His friend provided companionship and a refreshing new insight to the sights that we had seen many times before.

It's been a quiet and lonely summer for My Youngest. This holiday was for him. I felt that he deserved this time long before we left. But upon our return, I realize that this holiday was a gift for me as well. It's nice to step back and look at your children in action.

This twelve year old phase has been different for each of my children. I know that the road could be full of twists and turns from this point on. I believe that we are setting out on this next phase of development on solid ground.

I think this will be a holiday that I will reflect on, for years to come. I hope My Youngest feels the same.

Different ... But Still the Same

We've taken a brief hiatus from "life as we know it" and ventured out on a mini holiday before the onset of school and fall weather ...

My Youngest (12 years old) asked if he could invite a friend. If I was in his shoes, I'd want to invite a friend. He's had a very solitary summer holiday. He needs some companionship. So without too much thought, I agreed.

All was arranged easily and the next thing I knew, we were off.

We are now at the tail end of our 2-day-holiday-adventure. We have travelled roads we've travelled many times before. We have stayed at hotels that we've stayed at several times prior. We've seen the sights and did things that we have seen and done many times. It's the same ... but different.

I've travelled these roads with My Youngest through varying ages of his development. Starting at age "1" and at least four times between then and now.

I can't help but compare the past to the present ...

No longer are our days dictated by naps, regularly scheduled meal times and bed time rituals. At age 12, the kids stay up longer than I do and sleep in, in the mornings.

In the early childhood years, I pussy footed around in the mornings in the hope of having a quiet hour (or two) before I had to wear my 'Mom hat' for the day. This holiday? I banged and clanged around, ran water, turned on lights. And nothing. My young boys slept in spite of it all.

The days of packing 'healthy food' are gone (but not forgotten). We packed junk food and pop. We scavenged the cities we were in, to find the best take-out-food options. It was easier in the 'old days', in some ways. I knew the basic food groups were being consumed. Now? I hope My Youngest has an appetite. My Son's young travel companion is the polar opposite when it comes to food. Lots of it, any time, any place. But nutritional value? Not so much.

Independence. At age 12, 'my boys' could stay on their own. But being responsible for someone else's child keeps me close at hand at all times. I just about 'lost' my Son's Friend when he wandered into the hotel corridor ("looking for My Son") the first night. I heard a door open and shut (and assumed it was the bathroom) in the middle of the night. Something made me check it out and ensure 'my boys' were where they were supposed to be. Sure enough - one was missing. I reacted quickly enough, that he didn't catch the elevator he was waiting for. How do you make that phone call to a parent? "Sorry ... I lost your child". Thankfully, I haven't had to experience that.

Swimming no longer (nor has it, for a while) involves me getting into a bathing suit. I still sit at the pool-side and check for 'my boys' on a regular basis. But all in all, the swimming is a pretty easy way for them to burn off their energy and kill a few (or more) hours. Water and kids are a good combination (as long as they play safe and follow the rules).

I kept asking My Youngest "... do you remember when...", as we retraced our steps from a time when he was half of his current age (or younger).

We stayed in the bunk bed suite of a hotel only once before and we returned to stay in that same room this holiday. I asked him if he remembered. His memory made me smile:

"I remember that you forgot to pack a book to read to me before I went to bed ... and you made up a story ... and now that I'm older, I realize the nights when I can't fall asleep, are the nights when I don't hear your voice before I go to bed ..."

That bed-time-story-ritual has passed by the wayside. But his need to 'connect' with me before he falls into a restful slumber remains.

Yes, many things change and evolve over the years. But it's comforting to realize that some things never change ...

Dirty Laundry

I can't help but reflect on my daycare days a lot lately. My life has made a 360 degree turnaround since that time ...

Back in the 'old' days, I was around kids, food, dirt, vomit, runny noses and dirty diapers. We spent a lot of time outside. At the end of the day (and sometimes half way through), my clothes were dirty. Really dirty.

These days?

I am inside all day. I sit at the computer and type. I stand at the table and file. I wear comfy clothes because sitting too long in restrictive jeans is very uncomfortable. At the end of the day, my clothes are still clean. Lightly used. Heavens! I don't even sweat any more!!

In the past, I have always been the only one who tended the outdoor work. Cutting grass, pulling weeds, shovelling, maintaining, you name it ... I did it.

This year?

My Middle Son has taken over the lawn care. I don't work up a sweat as I listen to the lawn mower go by the living room window. I don't get dusty, dirty, bug infested ... I don't work up a sweat.

Then there was this past Sunday.

I cleaned. I was down on my knees cleaning. I was rummaging around the garage. I looked down and my pants were dirty. Really dirty!

At the end of a productive and fulfilling day, I tossed my dirty clothes in the laundry basket. It was evidence of a day well lived.

Airing my dirty laundry in a public venue is something my mom wouldn't recommend. But in this case? It felt kinda good.

Does it Take Longer to Clean Real Dirt ... or Imaginary Dirt?

I used to devote Fridays to my household chores. I probably spent at least an hour (if not two) dusting, cleaning, washing, scrubbing, watering plants, scouring bathrooms, shaking mats, washing floors, etc, etc, etc.

I used to vacuum each and every day (at least once, sometimes more). I used to wipe down my couch and love seat on a daily basis ('nose juices' from my daycare days initiated that routine).

I used to be obsessive/compulsive about keeping on top of my household chores.

Then ... I stopped babysitting and started working full time at bookkeeping from my home.

There is no time to dust while I work. There are no little breaks in the day to squeeze in my old daily cleaning routines.

Granted, the house isn't as dirty as it used to be with 5 - 8 kids running at large five days out of seven. But ... dirt happens.

The last time this house has seen a good cleaning was oh ... let me guess ... June 25th. Almost two months ago.

Since that time, I have swept/vacuumed/wiped and swiped. I haven't devoted any more time than absolutely necessary to house work. The plants are looking out the window at greener pastures and longing for a better home because of the drought conditions under their present roof.

I figure that I have probably saved at least 25 hours in cleaning time.

Yesterday ... I cleaned. Real dirt. You could actually see where I had dusted. The hair balls running at large on the laminate flooring have finally been captured within the confines of the vacuum cleaner.

I spent at least two hours cleaning.

Hmmm ... 2 hours verses 25 hours. Real dirt is much faster to clean. Why didn't I learn this sooner???