Being a goalie’s mom

Talk about stress, I am not sure how he does it.  Facing shot after shot, break-away after break-away…and lots of them.  He is 9 and is passionate about being a goalie.  He is confident, self-assured and tells me how he anticipates the shots and uses visualization to defeat his opponents.  He is 9 and is passionate about being a goalie. His limited career of one year in net has turned me into a raving lunatic from the sidelines.

His team is getting better, perhaps even peaking in time for the playoffs but they have had limited offence and minimal defence for most of the season.  I can be heard shouting from the other end of the arena,  or so my other son embarrassed to be near me, tells me.  My young goalie  has been the recipient of many game pucks, even though they have lost most of their games.  He is proud of his position on the team and happy to have full-on pressure.

So now I add being a goalie’s mom to the list of descriptors I have acquired since having kids.  I am not just so and so’s mom, or class parent, I am now a goalie’s mother.  Talk about stress, each time the other team is in his zone, I cringe.  Every break-away, I hold my breath.  Every save is a small victory.  Every goal a defeat.  Every time the puck isn’t cleared by his team, I yell.  Every bad bounce, I feel a bit sick.  Goalie’s are a special breed, to be able to take the pressure – to be a hero or a heel, to be revered or shunned.  I am just hoping I up to the job of being his biggest fan!  I found this poem and it does a great job of summing up what it feels like to be a goalie’s mom:

I’m sure you’ve seen her at a hockey game,
Although you may not know her name.
She seldom sits with her friends or the crowd 
Who get so excited and yell so loud.
The rest of the teams they can give and take, 
It’s the goalie who always makes the mistake. 
“Take him out” they holler “He’s a sieve!!” 
“He doesn’t even deserve to live!!” 
But when the contest is going the other way, 
They have nothing but praise and good things to say. 
“He’s stopping them all. Isn’t he great?” 
“If he keeps this up, we’ll be going to state!” 
When overtime comes, she can no longer stay,
But goes to the lobby and starts to pray
And cautiously listens to hear a loud roar.
She then knows that one team have now made a score. 
Her heart in her throat, she peeks at the fans.
They are joyful, screaming and clapping their hands. 
With a sigh of relief, she know her boy’s team has won, 
So for now there won’t be any criticizing her son. 
She says a quiet “Thank you God” as she starts to the door. 
Today’s a happy ending, but she knows there’ll be more 
Times when the goalie doesn’t come through. 
There’ll be days when she’ll brush a tear from eye 
And days when she’ll want to break down and cry, 
For the player with the almost impossible task.
Oh, how she loves that child from behind the mask. 
Yes, I’m sure you’ve seen this lady at one time or another 
‘Cause she’s a special breed, she’s the goalie’s mother.

Why Boys Need Parents or Why Parents Love having boys!

Many may have seen this on the internet but still funny to read!

 

1.) A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 2000 sq. ft. house 4 inches deep
2.) If you spray hair spray on dust bunnies and run over them with roller blades, they can ignite.
3.) An 3-year old boy’s voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant.
4.) If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound Boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a 20 x 20 ft. room.
5.) You should not throw baseballs up when the ceiling fan is on. When using a ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can hit a baseball a long way.
6.) The glass in windows (even double-pane) doesn’t stop a baseball hit by a ceiling fan.
7.) When you hear the toilet flush and the words “uh oh”, it’s already too late.
8.) Brake fluid mixed with Clorox makes smoke — lots of it.
9.) A six-year old boy can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year old man says they can only do it in the movies.
10.) Certain Lego’s will pass through the digestive tract of a 4-year old boy.
11.) Play dough and microwave should not be used in the same sentence
12.) Super glue is forever.
13.) No matter how much Jell-O you put in a swimming pool you still can’t walk on water.
14.) Pool filters do not like Jell-O.
15.) VCR’s do not eject “PB & J” sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.
16.) Garbage bags do not make good parachutes.
17.) Marbles in gas tanks make lots of noise when driving.
18.) You probably DO NOT want to know what that odor is.
19.) Always look in the oven before you turn it on; plastic toys do not like ovens.
20.) The fire department in toronto has a 5-minute response time.
21.) The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy.
22.) The spin cycle on the washing machine will, however, make cats dizzy
23.) Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.
24.) 80% of men who read this will try mixing the Clorox and brake fluid.
25.) 80% of women will pass this on to almost all of their friends, with or without kid.
a) For those with no children – this is totally hysterical.
b) For those who already have children past this age, this is hilarious.
c) For those who have children this age, this is not funny.
d) For those who have children nearing this age, this is a warning.
e) For those who have not yet had children, this is birth control.

Motherhood is a Marathon, not a sprint

“I really learned it all from mothers.”
– Dr. Benjamin Spock
That is quite an admission, the famed Dr. Spock, the guide for a generation of parents…learned it all from mothers!  I think one of the greatest things about moms is that they share.  They share their experiences, their fears, their joys, their worries, the everyday minutiae of raising kids.  We all learn from each other, we compare notes, seek advice, provide insights, and learn in the doing. While there is no exact rule book on raising kids, there is a robust publishing industry willing to share guidelines and measurements and strategies for every stage and phase of raising children.  I have found that the best, most accurate and most actionable learning that I have used has come from other mothers.  They get it like no one else does.

One of the earliest lessons I learned about being a mom was from my favourite (deceased) pediatrician, Dr. Norm Saunders. In one of my first visits with my oldest, who was then, the tiniest bit of thing and a few days old, he said, “Motherhood is a marathon, not a sprint.”  He counselled me, (I was a bit overwrought in the early days), to relax and not worry so much about my mothering skills.  He was an amazing man, doctor and became a friend.  He said to follow your instincts and that the best doctors listened to moms, and that there was such a thing called a mother’s instinct.

The other saying about marathons that I repeat to myself often is that to remember that there are those who are finished the race and for them it is done, but for many the race is still being run….I would say that I am in the thick of it.  Many friends have older kids and one of them said to me a few years ago, “I can’t believe how much road you still have to cover.”  Every time you get to a new stage with your kids, it easy to forget the stages that you have passed through.

The difference between motherhood and training for a true marathon, is that generally you train for a marathon.  There is really no training program for moms…there are seminars, books, the internet but it is variable and inconsistent.  So hence we get back to other moms…they are truly the best coaches and cheerleaders for other moms.  My friends and my network are my go to resources, and while everyone parents differently, I have learned so much from other moms.  I have found on this journey that other moms are just as happy as I am to walk the marathon of motherhood and enjoy the scenery together.

My advice to anyone struggling or overwhelmed with motherhood – find your network of moms and tap into them often…..

2010 in review

The stats helper monkeys at WordPress.com mulled over how this blog did in 2010, and here’s a high level summary of its overall blog health:

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads This blog is doing awesome!.

Crunchy numbers

A Boeing 747-400 passenger jet can hold 416 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,700 times in 2010. That’s about 4 full 747s.

 

In 2010, there were 10 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 32 posts. There were 19 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 5mb. That’s about 2 pictures per month.

The busiest day of the year was January 7th with 53 views. The most popular post that day was The bully and the bullied...

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were ca.linkedin.com, linkedin.com, mail.live.com, en.wordpress.com, and lmodules.com.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for boys brain, girls brain, su mcvey, zipline, and girl brain.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

1

The bully and the bullied.. January 2010
3 comments

2

The Brain! The Brain! October 2009
2 comments

3

About September 2009
4 comments

4

Athletes as Role Models January 2010

5

Remembering Ro February 2010
4 comments

Child of mine

Here is to my guys who are starting another year of school, a favourite from Carole King:

Although you see the world different than me
Sometimes I can touch upon the wonders that you see
All the new colors and pictures you’ve designed
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

You don’t need direction, you know which way to go
And I don’t want to hold you back, I just want to watch you grow
You’re the one who taught me you don’t have to look behind
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Nobody’s gonna kill your dreams
Or tell you how to live your life
There’ll always be people to make it hard for a while
But you’ll change their heads when they see you smile

The times you were born in may not have been the best
But you can make the times to come better than the rest
I know you will be honest if you can’t always be kind
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine,
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Watching the glaciers weep

We have just returned from an amazing holiday in Alberta.  We spent the majority of the time in and around Jasper and a little bit of time in Lake Louise and Banff.  The rockies did not disappoint, and were more majestic, more imposing, more everything than one can imagine.   Our guys were thrilled with every turn of the highway and every new mountain to view.  The snow, the trees and lakes were all spectacular.  We did the white water rafting, climbed a summit, followed a canyon to its end, stood on a glacier, witnessed an avalanche,  and were in a snowstorm on Sept 5!

We all learned alot about Canada and how great it is to be Canadian;  We have more national parks than any other nation and the two largest national parks in the world are in Canada.  We learned about the delicate balancing act between sharing this wonderful experience and preserving it for future generations.  We saw a grizzly undergoing “aversion conditioning” – it was too close to people and the park ranger’s job is to scare it away so that it will avoid people in the future.

We learned about how Parks Canada is working hard to preserve the parks for the inhabitants, and we saw it in action with the highway being fenced and overpasses that allow wildlife to go over the highways without incident.  How Canadian! I was so glad that we took our guys out there so they could experience first hand this vast and diverse country…it is so different in Jasper or Lake Louisethan it is where we live…in Lake Louise there are 13 permanent families with permanent houses….3o kids in total in the town, winter basically 8 months of year.  You can tell the pace and the priorities are different.

One of the major things that struck me while we were there was the impact we have had on this environment.  One can hardly argue with global warming when you see the retreat of massive glaciers (Columbia Icefields) and wonder where will it end. It felt incredibly exploitive to even be on the icefield and we wondered how much the damage we as tourists were having.  We hiked up to the top of Mount Edith Cavell (the highest mountain in Alberta) and were stunned to see a glacial lake at the top with hundreds of huge pieces of ice floating on the ice.  Down the side of the mountain, there was a steady flow of water streaming down the mountain side, a sight I will never forget, one of a glacier weeping.

I hope you Dance

This is to my guys who are at the ocean and will be seeing the mountains soon, I love the message in this song by Lee Ann Womack:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leaves you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they’re worth taking
Lovin’ might be a mistake
But it’s worth making
Don’t let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a real and constant motion always)
I hope you dance
(Rolling us along)
I hope you dance
(Tell me who)
I hope you dance
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)
(Where those years have gone)

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you’ll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance ….

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

So i know that this is a little out of step with the season, but I wanted to share this little gem I tripped over today, quite by accident.  I have struggled during the last few seasons, to figure out what to say when my older son says that some of the kids in the class don’t believe in Santa Claus.  I have always said that I do, and those that don’t, don’t get presents from Santa…hoping that would stop the questions.  But I share this story with you, as it is a much finer response:

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on theday my big sister dropped the bomb: “There is no Santa Claus,”she jeered. “Even dummies know that!”

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one ofher “world-famous” cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. “No Santa Claus?” She snorted… “Ridiculous! Don’t believe it. That rumor Has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad! Now, put On your coat, and let’s go.”

“Go? Go where, Grandma?” I asked. I hadn’t even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. “Where” turned out to be Kerby’s General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As wewalked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. Thatwas a bundle in those days. “Take this money,” she said, “and buy something for someone who needs it. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Then she turned and walked out of Kerby’s.

I was only eight years old. I’d often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a Few moments I juststood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my Friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to mychurch.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock’s grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn’t have a coat. I knew that because he nevwent out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn’t have a cough; he didn’t havea good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!

I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. “Is this a Christmas present for someone?” the lady behind the counter asked Kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied shyly. “It’s for Bobby.”The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a Good winter coat. I didn’t get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, “To Bobby, From Santa Claus” on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker’s house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa’s Helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby’s house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in thebushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. “All right, Santa Claus,” she whispered, “get going.”

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waitedbreathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven’t dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker’s bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Clauswere just what Grandma said they were: Ridiculous.

Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have The Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.

- Author Unknown

A boy, a dream and a dad

My youngest has big dreams, he is always coming up with some plan or the other for something to build or make.  Late last summer his dream was to build a zipline on top of a new tree fort that would connect to the play fort in the back.  He is tenancious and persistent.  Last weekend, he woke up and wanted to build the tree fort and the zipline.  He drew some plans up (he is 7 so it was pretty rudimentary) and with repeated requests to dad, we all tromped off to Lowe’s.  Now, there are only so many projects my husband wants to sign up for this spring, and this one wasn’t on his list.  A gazebo, a pond, clearing our little forest …they were on the list, and even if the zipline was on the list, it was at the bottom.  He pushed all that aside and even though he was a little grumpy at Lowe’s he carried on.

Lowe’s was a bit of bust, not because anything was wrong with Lowe’s, but because the planning had not been thought through and no one really knew what the plan was.  So I tried to reframe it as a ‘research’ expedition, because really i wanted the pond and so we went to the pond place and also did some ‘research’.  Well there was no satisfying our budding engineer.  He and his dad surveyed the area when the rain stopped and luckily for him, dad came to the rescue with another plan.

Sunday was spent reworking the plan, and buying materials….three trips to Home Depot for various rope sizes, pulleys, wires…all stuff that is just not in my area of expertise.  Well the two of them spent the majority of the day on this new simplified plan to actually connect the ziplne through the trees, using the trees and hence not needing the connecting fort.  The zipline was built, modified and today, Tuesday, continues to be modified.  It works! but beyond all of that it is the fulfilment of the dream that makes it so special.  I bet every other boy in grade one in my son’s class is asking their dads to build them a zipline.  I hope that my sons continue to dream and concoct schemes and I am so thankful that they have a dad who makes the time to help bring those precious dreams to reality.  I hope that this is what they remember when they are older, it isn’t the stuff we give but the time we spend.

Remembering Ro

There is lots of research and articles that suggest that boys need heroes and that it is important for them to have role models that help shape what it means to be boys and men.  I think that we all need heroes,  people we can look up to, admire and try to emulate.  I had such a person in my life, who helped shape me and define me for years.  Four years ago today, she died.  She was my sister, my best friend, my mom mentor and my hero.

She was my hero long before she was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, before she was radiated, before she lost a large part of her leg to remove the tumour.  She was my hero well before she took her first faltering steps after the surgery, and kept pressing on.  She was my hero before she endured months of aggressive, horrible chemotherapy.  She was my hero before the cancer moved into her lungs and she endured more surgery.  She was my hero before it moved into her brain and she gave us permission then to cry.  She was my hero before she signed up for experimental treatments that she knew were too late for her but might help someone else.  She was my hero well before she was taken by ambulance for one of these treatments a few weeks before she died, too weak and in too much pain to walk.  She was my hero before I saw her the morning  she died and wiped a tear from her closed eyes.  She was my hero before she taught us to die well and with absolute dignity. She was my hero and she never asked “why me”.

She was my hero when we shared a room growing up and shared our dreams and our doubts and our fears.  She was my hero when she helped me be better than I otherwise would have been.  She was my hero when she worked on the oncology ward at Sick Kids and helped to heal babies and children and families dealing with cancer.  She was my hero when she stood up to the administration and spoke out on behalf of her colleagues.  She was my hero when she became a midwife and championed mothers and babies and choices and education.  She was my hero as she  mothered her own children and supported them and their choices.  She was my hero when she walked in protest and walked to support Cancer research.  She was my hero when she stood up for gay rights and turned against a church that didn’t.

She was a hero to me when she said her body had done the most important job, bringing her two babies into the world.  She was my hero when she danced with wild abandon, and dressed up in crazy outfits.  She was my hero when she celebrated life and living and brought her passion and spirit to everything she did.  She was my hero when she was there for every meaningful moment of my life as a friend, a sister, a coach and a witness.  She was my hero because she cared passionately about being human and humanity.  She was my hero because she was compassionate, intelligent, funny, tenacious, principled, courageous, daring, unwavering and unafraid.  She was and always will be my sister, my best friend and my hero.