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Your children are not your children
A few weeks ago, my daughter’s choir hosted a treble training festival for several other children’s choirs in southern Ontario. They’re always great events, when these well-trained choristers come together, work with a guest conductor and finally, hold a joint concert where they raise their voices in song and raise the rafters of whatever church has been borrowed for the occasion. The kids work hard during that day, as evidenced by the 87 pizzas we the 150+ choristers put back for dinner! But that’s not the point of this story. I like to sit quietly in the back while the (mostly)… Read more…
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Where do babies come from?
When I had my first child, I was determined that I would teach my kids proper words for body terms. No “willies” and “special girl parts” for me. My kids were going to understand that babies grew inside my uterus and that they weren’t brought by the stork. They were going to understand that a special milk for babies came from breasts. That led to some – well, let’s call them interesting – discussions in some less than ideal places. More than once, a little one piped up more loudly than I would have liked in a shopping mall that… Read more…
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Time to make a mess
“When humans create,” he said, “it’s a messy process.” I didn’t really pay a lot of attention to those words last Sunday morning. I was more concerned, I admit, about the harmonies in the next piece of music we were to sing. Besides, I’m not so good at “messy”. As little girls, we’re taught that messy is bad. We are taught to sit nicely, speak politely and generally not be the whirling dervishes our brothers allowed to be. After all, boys will be boys, they tell us. And so it sticks. As a grown woman, I like things to be… Read more…
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A penny – or five – for your thoughts
A penny for my thoughts? Today, I’m remembering the record collection my parents had when I was young. I loved music and would sing along with everything from the Singing Nuns (who knew my first French words would be “Il ne parle que du bon Dieu”?!) to Camelot (and what 6 year old shouldn’t be singing about the Lusty Month of May?!) to whatever else they had playing under that scratchy needle inside the giant stereo case my Dad had made to house the speakers, turntable, and – wait for it – the NEW cassette tape player. But no matter… Read more…
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Holiday interruptus
I’ve been basking in some unexpected holiday time this Christmas season. It’s allowed me to spend some extra time with my family, do some extra baking, and sing way too many cheesy Christmas songs at the top of my lungs with nobody around to hear. It’s also given me some peaceful moments to simply relax, reflecting on the past year and making plans for the new one. I’m far more calm just days before the big holidays than I usually am. Sounds great, eh? But there’s just one little catch. Unfortunately, I have one of those jobs that you can’t just… Read more…
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Pirates of Bobcaygeon
Once upon a time, in the tiny Ontario town of Bobcaygeon, there lived a pirate gang. A friendly gang, to be sure, but pirates none-the less. Let me back up a bit. For about a decade, my parents ran house-keeping cottages in a picturesque little town on the Trent-Severn Waterway. Their waterfront property had several self-contained cottages, a tiny little beach courtesy of the sand my father had trucked in every year, and docks for the kayaks, canoes, peddle-boat and small rental fishing boats available for their guests. It was a great fishing spot. You could dangle a fishing rod… Read more…
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Adventures in teenage miscommunication
“Mum, my friends and I want to cook meat in the forest,” said my son one night. “Is that OK?” Now what you have to understand is that near my house, we have a fabulous ravine. Great unofficial trails that my kids and I have walked along with Maggie the dog for years – since my youngest could toddle along without falling over tree roots. We scramble down ravine banks, throw sticks for Maggie to chase, look for wildlife (scat searching was a big hit when the boys were young!) and generally have a great time in this special piece of nature that… Read more…
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One down … my son’s new chapter
Like many, many of my friends, this weekend marked a big, gigantic first – the first time leaving my firstborn child at university. Photos of new dorm rooms have been popping up on my Facebook feed all day to mark the occasion. I first wrote about this then-upcoming event in March, and now, a little over 1,300 km later, my boy has been collected from a summer camp counselling job, unpacked, repacked and unpacked again to begin the next exciting chapter of his young life – university. And you know, it wasn’t as hard on dear old Mum as I thought it… Read more…
