Harbour Tour

So fortunate today - our friends took us on a harbour tour! We had such a great time - we even saw our first seals. I didn't have the camera ready at that point, but I did name them Henry and Lola.

The boys were great - very excited to experience their first boat ride. I was so proud of them! Aidan was so tuckered out by the fresh air, he had a 3 hour nap afterwards.

I've got a few photos below of our day:




Liam with his short hair:



Kieran with his long hair:



James and Aidan:

Got a Clue?

I thought I'd share this little idea - my husband loves to play Clue with the boys, so we adapted our pieces and wrapped up the game for him for Father's Day last year. Very silly of us, but a lot of fun!

I used this picture for my technology blog because I had an assignment about our vision of the future of technology in schools and libraries.

Sorry this is such a scattered post, but Aidan has been sick all week, and he's not sleeping well, and I'm exhausted. Funny how the brain turns to mush when it's unrested, huh?

Happy Easter!

Yes, it was Easter Sunday today, and we had a great big Ukrainian meal (James' family is Ukrainian, mine's Irish/Scottish/English). I wish I'd taken photos of the meal, but I think I have last years shot, so I'll dig it up....



There you go. We had Easter dressing (Natchinka?), cabbage rolls, bread, eggs, ham, sausage, and beet relish with horse radish (makes your eyes water like crazy).

The boys had fun searching for their eggs and treats. Kieran has been sick for a couple of days now, but he had enough energy to enjoy the day.

James' uncle and aunt came over for supper and Baba and Dido have been here all week. (Incidentally, it's been wonderful having the help!) Yesterday we went to the university and walked around the gardens. Liam was amazed that there were flowers bigger than his head.



Aidan did lots of walking with help from his Dido. He's still pretty unsteady, but he's starting to do more one-handed assisted walking which he's excited and a little nervous about. Our PT and OT told us not to worry - the bear-walking and crawling that he's doing is helping to strengthen him in ways that will help him down the road (with fine-motor control needed when printing, for example). Knowing this makes us feel better - but still there is something about that walking milestone that makes you want to get there fast. He'll do it when he's ready, and we're okay with that.



Aidan played with tissue paper for a solid 45 minutes, then later got one strand of that fake grass stuff that you put in the Easter basket and played with it for 15 minutes. No need for expensive toys for this boy, he's delighted by the world around him (I kind of hope this quality lasts!). Here he is standing: he's just played "shredder boy".



All in all it was a lovely Easter weekend (and it's not over yet, there's still tomorrow!).

One last thing to mention, I'm finished my class - yippee! It's been a long haul as I've been working through 2 terms with a focus on technology in school libraries. It was a lot of fun, and I learned an incredible amount. I've enjoyed stretching my mind and technical abilities, but I'm going to enjoy the summer without a class. I'll turn my attention over to my other writings with a hope that I'll be published one day (a girl can dream, right?)

Gratitude, not a Bad Attitude

That's what I try to teach my boys. Every single day. But it's hard for little boys - who think that toys or another television show will make their life complete - to understand that we don't need more. In fact, we probably need less.

Imagine if our TV was gone. What would we do? Would we talk more, read more, play more - TOGETHER? Would we be outdoors more - go hiking, biking, walking? Would we actually be healthier?

Would our attitudes change? Would our bad attitudes (about not getting to watch their favourite show, or play one more video game) be replaced with a little gratitude for the simpler things in life - or would the men/boys in my life revolt and send me packing?

I guess when it comes right down to it, I'm spineless. It's just a little pipe-dream of mine, this idea of no TV. Once, I saw a book about television watching and children called, "The Plug-In Drug." It got me thinking about how and when we use our TV. Maybe I'll go back to my old ways - and make them "pay me" to watch a program. Read, draw, write, do chores, play an instrument. . . then they can watch a show or play a video game.

Two Minute Poem for Kennedy

My niece, Kennedy, has to read a 2 minute poem in front of her class - one that she got off the Internet. So, I thought I would write her one that she could share if she wanted too.


A Poem for my Niece

Hello again,
It’s me.
Writing to you from far away.

Did I ever tell you that my whole entire life,
I’ve loved poetry?
Did I ever tell you how poetry
And I met?

Well, it all happened one day,
A long time ago
Before you were born.
My sister and I had a fight.
An argument.
A disagreement.
A grumble.
I stormed off to my room,
Took my journal out,
Found a pen,
And threw the ink across the paper
In a ugly rage.
All the words I couldn’t say to her
When she made me mad,
Spilled out.
It was only a few lines,
But I felt somehow that getting the words out
Made my world a little better.
I wasn’t upset anymore,
Or angry.
I stopped pouting, and
Went on with my day.

I don’t even remember what the fight was about.
A television show?
The last can of pop?
Not paying attention –
Or wanting too much attention?
Whatever it was doesn’t matter now,
It was so long ago.
What does matter is that
Poetry came into my room,
Held me up and gave me courage
when all courage seemed so far away.

Over the years poetry came and went in my life,
Sometimes I read the poems
of Frost, or Whitman, or, Eliot, or Auden –
great poets of the Modern age.

Sometimes I go further back to
Blake, and Shelley,
Wordsworth, or Byron.
Those old Romantics who wrote about nature and love,
And how one’s life can be altered forever
By true and utter beauty.

And the things I could tell you about Canadian poets –
Milton Acorn, Gwendolyn MacEwen,
Raymond Souster, Margaret Atwood, Michael Ondaatje,
George Elliot Clark and Dennis Lee,
To name a few...
We Canadians can hold our own,
of that, I am certain.

Other times, I keep company with poets,
Friends of mine who are inspired by words
And are writing, not for fame and fortune,
But because nothing else will say it right.
For them, poetry is perfect.
To them, poetry is the perfect vessel
For their ideas.

And what of you and your friends,
My niece who lives so far away?
What will poetry mean to you?
Will it only be an assignment –
Something that has to be done?
Or, will you turn to poetry
Because it’s in your heart too?

Whatever it is,
Whatever you decide to do,
It will be perfect,
Because it comes from you.

Love,

Aunt Carol

Took 'em Skating. . .

Okay, so we're Canadian and my lads have only been on ice skates twice (three years ago). Is that so wrong?

I've actually been feeling a little bad that I haven't taken them out more - that, and Kieran saying he really wanted to learn to skate - made me get out of the house and take them to the local rink.

I told them we were going "falling," not "skating." They laughed. I was serious!

Kieran said, "it's a really good thing I'm a fast learner."

Liam said, "yeah, and it's a really good thing I'm a fast healer!"

$11.00 later, and Kieran and Liam and I are on the ice. They did great. I was expecting to be there 20 minutes, tops. I expected to hear about sore feet and cold hands. I expected frustrations. But they were real troopers. No whining. No big falls. They were just great. An hour and a half later I had to drag them off the ice, swearing (scouts honour) that I would bring them back again soon.

My Own Memories . . .

One of my favourite memories of skating was formed during cold winter evenings in Owen Sound, Ontario. Most parks had outdoor rinks that were packed during the day with boys playing hockey. . . the girls were on the edges trying to be graceful.

When I was twelve or so I used to take my dog for walks in the evening. I'd take my skates with me, and we'd stop at the park when nobody else was around. I'd twirl around on the ice pretending I was a great figure skater. I'd skate until my feet hurt, then I'd lie on the ice and look up at the stars.

I wasn't a great figure skater. I remember taking lessons when I was 4, and mostly I remember falling and having to sit with my mom while I cried. When my dad got sick, mom didn't have the time, energy or money to keep up with lessons, so I never took them again. I'm not bitter or sad about that - my memory of skating alone at the park in the evenings is too sweet. Those daydreams fueled my desire to become a writer, and I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Leprechauning. . .

Happy St. Patrick's Day, everyone! We're part Irish - my Great Grandparents came from Islandmagee - and St. Patrick's Day has always been special for me. My Paternal Grandmother would always send a card for March 17, even if she forgot our birthdays! Incidentally, "Leprechauning" is my new word for what we do every St. Patrick's Day.

This morning we woke up to the strangest message:

The leprechaun even left a recipe and some ingredients by our CrockPot:

And, thankfully, we had to take the recycling out from under the sink in order to find an important clue:

All Irish roads lead to the gold, and the boys like chocolate gold even better than the real stuff:

Aidan wonders if leprechauns are real. . . he's looking kind of skeptical

"Oh, sure, why not?"

Aidan, on the lookout for more leprechauns:

I think the leprechaun got me to do way more work today than normal. By 9:00 AM, I'd made Irish stew, apple pie, and took out the recycling. Good thing we have friends coming over for supper tonight!

And I should add that the big boys had so much fun looking for leprechaun gold that they put all the clues back so that our guests can go on the hunt too.