Last Sunday as we left church I was handed a piece of paper. Not that unusual with 8 children attending with me and 6 of them in Primary. It is inevitable that one of them will have an assignment for something the following week. However, as it would happen, this time it was Cooper and it was a talk. It wasn't until this moment that I had this paper in hand, that I realized he had NEVER been given the assignment to give a talk before.
How do I prepare a child who isn't at my home all week for giving a talk in Primary? How do I prepare a child who gets anxious about zipping up his coat correctly for giving a talk in Primary? How do I prepare a child who may have a drum lesson on Sunday and not even be there for giving a talk in Primary?
The planets must have been in line this week. There wasn't school on Friday, so Thursday evening Cooper and troops arrived for some R & R.
Plenty of time to prepare him. We talked about the concept of standing in front of the primary and speaking in the microphone. Didn't seem phased. whew... averted first issue! What would he like to talk about?
"Some kids read out of that magazine in your bathroom."
Oh.. he'd noticed. Ok So we trotted off to the bathroom to see if there was an article that suited him. He selected a few issues of the Friend magazine and settled on the couch. My attention was needed elsewhere and soon found that over 20 minutes had passed. He approached me, magazine in hand. "I like this story about a boy and his dog that dies and he learns about obeying even when he doesn't understand."
This is from a 6 year old boy, who until a few months ago couldn't read Dick and Jane. He self taught himself to read and had just sat for 20 minutes and read numerous articles on his own and chose one to his liking. We discussed it and I felt relieved that this talk business wasn't going to be so difficult after all. Talk done and two days to go.
Saturday dawned and Cooper again approached me, different magazine in hand. "Uh, Nova, I've been reading this other story and I think I would like to read this one instead about the girl who learned to love even the people who smashed her Halloween pumpkins. I think that is a nice idea" Oh. Busy day ahead and he seemed confident. OK
Saturday night... tucking into bed. "Uh, Nova. I think I'd like some more magazines to read, I don't know if that is the story I want to do anymore." Aye, yi yi... talk about not your typical talk preparations! So he went to bed with a few magazines and I didn't have a clue what I would wake to discover.
Sunday morning. Typical Sabbath mayhem of ties, breakfast, teeth brushing, hair combing and rushing out the door. Once we were in the van and on the way he announced, "I didn't bring any of the magazines, I think I'll do the dog story anyway." At this point I'm confident he can do any one he likes without any assistance from me.
As we sit in Sacrament meeting, he picks up a book from the quiet bag. It's an Old Testament for young children book. He proceeds to read for the entire hour of Sacrament. As we leave Sacrament, "Uh, Nova. I want to tell one of these stories." So as we walk down the hall towards the Primary room where in just over 5 minutes he would need to get up to give this talk, he decided between telling them of his new found favourite scripture stories of Noah or Jonah. He settled on Jonah.
I must say he did an incredible job. He only asked for assistance with the word 'Ninevah'. I promise, he'd never seen or heard the story before and he told it with such emotion. I only wish I understood how that little head of his learned things...
On the way home... he asked when he could give a talk again.
Is there a Doctor in the house? part 3
Wow your Doctorate blog nova.. great.. and Dr. Johns response super !
Thank you John for giving all my children such High Levels of Recognition .. and permission to have letters behind their names. !
Man what a family I have...
My response now.....to the blog.. pales to John
However.. in some ways it doesn't..
Mine is an announcement... that will officially give each of you, my eight , permission to have letters behind your names.. It will be known and certified world wide.
Maybe I'm jumping the gun at announcing.. but the time seems appropriate with all this talk of doctorate letters. After years of working on my thesis, and dissertation, I'm on the threshold of certification. I'm slower than the others, it's been fifty years for me!
There will be two sets of letters.
First for, United Empire Loyalists, with your direct descendancy certified by the governments of America, Canada and Great Britain...and my grand children are 9th generation ! !
Congratulations...! !
This will entitle you to write U. E. after your name
The second certification being for the later five of my children for, descendants of the Daughters of the American Revolution
You will be certified to have D. A. R. after your names
Our family is large and luxurious in its talents and it may seem funny to have two background histories.. but I see it as enhancement of each other.. not unlike Dr Sparky.. having scouting top honors of his duel heritage scouting back ground.. Eagle scout of America and Queen scout of Canada..
There is a third certification in the works for these five children and that has come with help and support ( as with the Dr. John and Dr. Sparky) of Lloyd Gathright and Carolyn Gathright.. this will be the certification for the descendants of those who fought on both sides in the American Civil war. Lloyd took me to Vicksburg, Mississippi in 2008 to look up the records of Gathrights, both Union and Confederate..
The U E L certification is a breath away ..... when I will present at the Canadian Board. The D A R is creeping up.. also.
You will be formally notified with certificates in your name and those of your children from the Canadian Officials.
Please don't take from this that I endorse war. These patriotic honours stem from my active endorsement of knowing our ancestral roots and learning of each individual in the long chain of ancestors. We are what we are. The more we know about our forebears, the more we know of ourselves, and the more we know about our ancestors, the more we realize they are much more than patriots in the wars of their time.
They are courageous in their daily tasks of living in what we term 'pioneer ' times. They are adventurous in their travels and treks to new lands and new places under trying and difficult circumstances. They are persevering and enduring in the trials presented in lives with medical situations that weren't recognized or remedied so readily as ours are today. The sorrows they felt in the loss of babies and mothers in childbirth, the minor accidents that became fatal to young fathers due to bleeding to death or rampant infections, the diseases of small pox, typhus, diphtheria etc. and epidemics that ran thru their communities.
This is not a genealogical conversation here. I just want it made clear that our ancestors were much more than warriors of government proclamations.
Its a great thing for a mother to be so proud of all the accomplishments and personalities of her children as I am. I don't have certificates or 'letters' to put behind your names in official ways... but I see each of your names with the proud letters
Thank you John for giving all my children such High Levels of Recognition .. and permission to have letters behind their names. !
Man what a family I have...
My response now.....to the blog.. pales to John
However.. in some ways it doesn't..
Mine is an announcement... that will officially give each of you, my eight , permission to have letters behind your names.. It will be known and certified world wide.
Maybe I'm jumping the gun at announcing.. but the time seems appropriate with all this talk of doctorate letters. After years of working on my thesis, and dissertation, I'm on the threshold of certification. I'm slower than the others, it's been fifty years for me!
There will be two sets of letters.
First for, United Empire Loyalists, with your direct descendancy certified by the governments of America, Canada and Great Britain...and my grand children are 9th generation ! !
Congratulations...! !
This will entitle you to write U. E. after your name
The second certification being for the later five of my children for, descendants of the Daughters of the American Revolution
You will be certified to have D. A. R. after your names
Our family is large and luxurious in its talents and it may seem funny to have two background histories.. but I see it as enhancement of each other.. not unlike Dr Sparky.. having scouting top honors of his duel heritage scouting back ground.. Eagle scout of America and Queen scout of Canada..
There is a third certification in the works for these five children and that has come with help and support ( as with the Dr. John and Dr. Sparky) of Lloyd Gathright and Carolyn Gathright.. this will be the certification for the descendants of those who fought on both sides in the American Civil war. Lloyd took me to Vicksburg, Mississippi in 2008 to look up the records of Gathrights, both Union and Confederate..
The U E L certification is a breath away ..... when I will present at the Canadian Board. The D A R is creeping up.. also.
You will be formally notified with certificates in your name and those of your children from the Canadian Officials.
Please don't take from this that I endorse war. These patriotic honours stem from my active endorsement of knowing our ancestral roots and learning of each individual in the long chain of ancestors. We are what we are. The more we know about our forebears, the more we know of ourselves, and the more we know about our ancestors, the more we realize they are much more than patriots in the wars of their time.
They are courageous in their daily tasks of living in what we term 'pioneer ' times. They are adventurous in their travels and treks to new lands and new places under trying and difficult circumstances. They are persevering and enduring in the trials presented in lives with medical situations that weren't recognized or remedied so readily as ours are today. The sorrows they felt in the loss of babies and mothers in childbirth, the minor accidents that became fatal to young fathers due to bleeding to death or rampant infections, the diseases of small pox, typhus, diphtheria etc. and epidemics that ran thru their communities.
This is not a genealogical conversation here. I just want it made clear that our ancestors were much more than warriors of government proclamations.
Its a great thing for a mother to be so proud of all the accomplishments and personalities of her children as I am. I don't have certificates or 'letters' to put behind your names in official ways... but I see each of your names with the proud letters
M . I . N. E. and L . O. V. E. after them
Love Mum
Is there a Doctor in the House? part 2
This comment came to my email and I thought it should be shared... but it's a bit too long for the comment box!!
Thanks Nova..I too am proud of Dr. G ( Sparky).
According to the net..
A doctorate is an academic degree or professional degree that in most countries represents the highest level of formal study or research in a given field. In some countries it also refers to a class of degrees which qualify the holder to practice in a specific profession, such as law or medicine. The best-known example of the former is the Ph.D. (Doctor of Philosophy), while examples of the latter include the U.S. degree of Doctor of Medicine and the Dutch Professional Doctorate in Engineering.
In some countries, the highest degree in a given field is referred to as a terminal degree, although this is by no means universal (the phrase is not in general use in the U.K., for example), practice varies from country to country, and a distinction is sometimes made between terminal professional degrees (such as the J.D.) and terminal research degrees (such as the LL.D. J.S.D., or S.J.D.).[1]
The term doctorate comes from the Latin docere, meaning "to teach", shortened from the full Latin title licentia docendi, meaning "teaching license".[citation needed]
I also enjoyed Valerie's email about Dr. G.
I have been a Dr. for a few years now and I still don’t feel the part sometimes. It is on my Office Door. I get Dr. John Gathright on my snail mail and on official letters etc. I am proud of my Doctorate and yet humbled at the same time because like a medical doctor after you graduate the learning doesn’t stop but just begins. MD’s have residency.. PhD.’s have classes to teach and students to mentor. I think the real Dr. John Gathright will kick in when the day comes that my students have become Doctors.
As a Doctor I am the first to recognize that nothing in this world is done solely on your own merits. I had a great deal of help and support from Hiroko the boys, family and friends. I was groveling for help with my dissertation and am so appreciative of the help the Dr. G and Dr.Val did for me. So before I can feel puffed up have to bow to all those who were part of the doctorate process. I am sure that Val and Sparky feel the same way.
Our university has a rule that students must address the Professor by Doctor "" ie. Doctor Gathright.. It is strange at first but it sure helps Hiroko to filter phone calls because she know that they are students calling. Just like we know church members by Brother Gathright. My air miles are in Dr. Gathright and it did get me a bump up once.
But, if you look at the root of the word and really ponder about the meaning of Doctorate then we have a number of doctors in our family.
I think Dad has reached the Highest level of learning for tinkering and fixing the unfixable. (Even Balloons) Dr. Fix it.
Mum has definitely reached the Highest Level of learning for Child Raising with 8 kids. Dr. Mum (Dr. Family Tree)
Jim, has experienced life from various perspectives and has the whit and smarts to show for it. He has also really turned things around and come up on top. Dr. Good Dad – Quick Whit
Jill, has reached the highest level of learning for artistic talent. Dr. Arts and Talents
Doug has reached the highest level of learning for back hoe, band, hockey dad, Supportive Producer Director of Celebrity Wife, Hockey Star Son and Singer Guitarist Daughter. Dr. Drums and Talent Support
Nova has reached the highest level of blogging, home schooling and mother marvelous. The root of Doctorate is teaching and she definitely does that so. She would be Dr. Blogger and Family Anchor
Pat has reached the highest level of keeping up with Nova and definitely, Dr. Fix and Build
Channa, has reached the highest level of learning for self taught web success and business Mum. Dr. Web and Mum.
John, highest level of air cooled and Swamp Cooled. Dr. Cool
Paige is definitely reached the highest level of learning for her Animals and Petting Zoo Dr. of Petology
Carlos, the highest learning for being the quiet and calm in a whirlwind of pets and kids. Dr. Calm
Eden, has reached the highest level of health and well being and mother fantastic.. as well as Karate, Yoga, just to name of few. Eden has mastered the art of punching and kicking but while retaining her soft gentle and beautiful self Dr. Modern Multi-talent Mum
Shawn, has reached the highest level of huggable dad and fisherman fantastic. Dr. Fish and Hug.
Val also has reached the highest level of support, smarts and perseverance of chronic illness with a smile.. Dr. Positive Partner and Editor Supreme
So Nova in a Nut Shell if someone asks is there a doctor in the house.. Yes, a Full House… Love JOHN G
Is there a Dr. in the house?
There are 2 Dr. 's in the family now! Both John and Sparky have completed their PHd's. Perhaps now that he's a Dr. we should finally refer to him as Graton instead of Sparky..... nah!
But can either of them diagnose a malady?
Why do they call it a doctorate... Just call it.. I went to school for FOREVER and now I can be referred to as Dr. Gathright. If I ever have an ailment involving trees, business, numbers or statistics, I know of some experts to turn to.
Channa may not have initials behind her name, but she did study sport's medicine for a while and essentially retains everything in her five mile brain. So although she can not diagnose either, she can explain the intricate details of the functions or malfunctions of the affected body parts in layman terms and she can translate whatever a doctor tried to explain, but didn't.
It's actually fine that there isn't a Dr.(md) in the house... I don't need one. I have my own personal physician who is available weekends and nights at no extra cost! I call him. Dr. Google! He's a general practitioner, or he specializes in everything.
I'm surprised at how well I'm able to pronounce all the medical terminology... no ones listening, I know, but it sounds correct to me... I'm even more surprised how much of it I'm able to understand. Even more if Channa is able to translate and explain the basic anatomy to me.
But truthfully, hats off to the Dr.'s in the family... Way to go.. Gold medal to you both it's an incredible achievement.
Just fyi... I began this post Feb. 7th... then Valerie posted a blog titled..get this.. "is there a Dr. in the house". What could have prompted that? It was charming and she truthfully deserved to use the title and I couldn't bring myself to post it just an hour or so later... it would steal the thunder from her great tribute... but it's been a few weeks... I'm over it now... silly eh?
But can either of them diagnose a malady?
Why do they call it a doctorate... Just call it.. I went to school for FOREVER and now I can be referred to as Dr. Gathright. If I ever have an ailment involving trees, business, numbers or statistics, I know of some experts to turn to.
Channa may not have initials behind her name, but she did study sport's medicine for a while and essentially retains everything in her five mile brain. So although she can not diagnose either, she can explain the intricate details of the functions or malfunctions of the affected body parts in layman terms and she can translate whatever a doctor tried to explain, but didn't.
It's actually fine that there isn't a Dr.(md) in the house... I don't need one. I have my own personal physician who is available weekends and nights at no extra cost! I call him. Dr. Google! He's a general practitioner, or he specializes in everything.
I'm surprised at how well I'm able to pronounce all the medical terminology... no ones listening, I know, but it sounds correct to me... I'm even more surprised how much of it I'm able to understand. Even more if Channa is able to translate and explain the basic anatomy to me.
But truthfully, hats off to the Dr.'s in the family... Way to go.. Gold medal to you both it's an incredible achievement.
Just fyi... I began this post Feb. 7th... then Valerie posted a blog titled..get this.. "is there a Dr. in the house". What could have prompted that? It was charming and she truthfully deserved to use the title and I couldn't bring myself to post it just an hour or so later... it would steal the thunder from her great tribute... but it's been a few weeks... I'm over it now... silly eh?
Personal Fitness
The kids have since become huge Tim Hawkins fans, listening to all his songs and stand up segments available online.
Decades
Forty years ago... Patrick was born.
Thirty years ago.. Patrick was ten. (obviously I know... ) The information to follow leads me to believe that there was likely a huge snow storm and no big bash!
Twenty years ago.. Patrick was twenty. He was on his mission in Texas. He was in a bike/car accident. He was ok.. once his scratches and bruises healed.
Ten years ago.. Patrick's mother passed away. We had a candle in a funeral cake and halfheartedly sang Happy Birthday.
This year as he reaches another decade of life... Mayhem ensues around the globe and it would seem that he is waiting in the middle of the Pacific ocean to receive the beating of a Tsunami wave.
Some people have cake and a pinch to grow an inch....
I fear for the universe at large in ten years!
Thirty years ago.. Patrick was ten. (obviously I know... ) The information to follow leads me to believe that there was likely a huge snow storm and no big bash!
Twenty years ago.. Patrick was twenty. He was on his mission in Texas. He was in a bike/car accident. He was ok.. once his scratches and bruises healed.
Ten years ago.. Patrick's mother passed away. We had a candle in a funeral cake and halfheartedly sang Happy Birthday.
This year as he reaches another decade of life... Mayhem ensues around the globe and it would seem that he is waiting in the middle of the Pacific ocean to receive the beating of a Tsunami wave.
Some people have cake and a pinch to grow an inch....
I fear for the universe at large in ten years!
The Pacific Rim Perspective
The recent events in the world have set a small fire under my backside when it comes to emergency preparedness...
An earthquake in Japan, then another in Chile less than 12 hours later... neither should affect me... should they? Except indirectly they do in so many ways. My brother lives in Japan with his family so I immediately search the internet for news on the earthquake and which areas of Japan are affected. Then I wake in the morning to news of an earthquake in Chile. Not too concerned I don't know anyone there... but wait... tsunami talk... headed to Hawaii.... of all times for Patrick to be working in Hawaii!! Now all Pacific Ocean coastal areas are on alert... well gee... that's my mother and two sisters and their families on Vancouver Island BC, Canada, my brother and family in Japan (double trouble there now!), and my Dad in California. Good day to climb a mountain I think!!
Yikes... makes me glad to be living so far inland but I must admit to being a little jealous... is that completely inappropriate? I love a great storm. I remember going down to Dallas Rd. in Victoria as a child very late at night and watching the break waters from a big winter storm. The waves were huge... coming up over the road and drenching us. Now this was just a storm not a tsunami... and I've never been wakened by sirens the way Patrick was this morning.. nor have I been evacuated as he is preparing now to do. I think as 'exciting' as that might be.. I'm ok with a humdrum life. I will live vicariously through all the Pacific Ocean dwelling relatives..
In complete honesty... the idea of being in an earthquake is terrifying and considering being evacuated from anywhere for any reason, trying to keep my children safe and my sanity in check... somewhat... is not something I can think about without a sense of panic and dread and sorrow for those who are doing just that as I type. I can only imagine the worry and sadness.
Perspective is an interesting thing though. Learning this week of Grandpa BC's terminal diagnosis of advanced Pancreatic cancer, hearing and seeing, via tv and internet, devastation in Chile, ongoing in Haiti and worrying about the affects the tsunami may have on so many areas did temper my frustration when I learned that Derek was jumping on the guest bed again. The bed the boys have been threatened many punishments for jumping on and breaking in the past. They've been grounded from it for close to 6 months after Patrick managed to repair it last time. But this time I didn't get angry. I didn't let him off the hook, but I didn't lose my cool. He still thinks I did though.
"I can't leave your sight!?!"
I am boring to hang out with after all. I just sit around nursing Whittaker, blogging and reading CNN updates.
Perhaps he'd like to help me sort and evaluate the 72 hour kits instead? He may think the world is miserable but I'm feeling pretty blessed right now.
An earthquake in Japan, then another in Chile less than 12 hours later... neither should affect me... should they? Except indirectly they do in so many ways. My brother lives in Japan with his family so I immediately search the internet for news on the earthquake and which areas of Japan are affected. Then I wake in the morning to news of an earthquake in Chile. Not too concerned I don't know anyone there... but wait... tsunami talk... headed to Hawaii.... of all times for Patrick to be working in Hawaii!! Now all Pacific Ocean coastal areas are on alert... well gee... that's my mother and two sisters and their families on Vancouver Island BC, Canada, my brother and family in Japan (double trouble there now!), and my Dad in California. Good day to climb a mountain I think!!
Yikes... makes me glad to be living so far inland but I must admit to being a little jealous... is that completely inappropriate? I love a great storm. I remember going down to Dallas Rd. in Victoria as a child very late at night and watching the break waters from a big winter storm. The waves were huge... coming up over the road and drenching us. Now this was just a storm not a tsunami... and I've never been wakened by sirens the way Patrick was this morning.. nor have I been evacuated as he is preparing now to do. I think as 'exciting' as that might be.. I'm ok with a humdrum life. I will live vicariously through all the Pacific Ocean dwelling relatives..
In complete honesty... the idea of being in an earthquake is terrifying and considering being evacuated from anywhere for any reason, trying to keep my children safe and my sanity in check... somewhat... is not something I can think about without a sense of panic and dread and sorrow for those who are doing just that as I type. I can only imagine the worry and sadness.
Perspective is an interesting thing though. Learning this week of Grandpa BC's terminal diagnosis of advanced Pancreatic cancer, hearing and seeing, via tv and internet, devastation in Chile, ongoing in Haiti and worrying about the affects the tsunami may have on so many areas did temper my frustration when I learned that Derek was jumping on the guest bed again. The bed the boys have been threatened many punishments for jumping on and breaking in the past. They've been grounded from it for close to 6 months after Patrick managed to repair it last time. But this time I didn't get angry. I didn't let him off the hook, but I didn't lose my cool. He still thinks I did though.
"I can't leave your sight!?!"
I am boring to hang out with after all. I just sit around nursing Whittaker, blogging and reading CNN updates.
Perhaps he'd like to help me sort and evaluate the 72 hour kits instead? He may think the world is miserable but I'm feeling pretty blessed right now.
I yam what I yam..
Duncan was eating his lunch very slowly. It wasn't an exciting lunch, a baked yam and a green salad. We noticed that he was eating his yam with his eyes closed and seemed quite contemplative. I asked if he was tired.
"No."
Are you ok?
"Yes."
What are you doing?
"Just tasting my food."
He kept doing it. We watched still baffled. Then I couldn't help it. Why are you tasting your food with your eyes closed?
"Oh, it helps me try to figure out what the ingredients are in this food."
The ingredients? It's a yam.
"Yes, you made it with carrots, cause I see it's orange, bananas, cause it feels like them, eggs and cheese to make it yummy and some corn and maybe some butter."
I had no idea I'd done that! I thought I'd pierced it's hide and thrown it in the microwave and then burned my finger tips taking the hide off before I called them for lunch. I must have blocked out all the other steps!
"No."
Are you ok?
"Yes."
What are you doing?
"Just tasting my food."
He kept doing it. We watched still baffled. Then I couldn't help it. Why are you tasting your food with your eyes closed?
"Oh, it helps me try to figure out what the ingredients are in this food."
The ingredients? It's a yam.
"Yes, you made it with carrots, cause I see it's orange, bananas, cause it feels like them, eggs and cheese to make it yummy and some corn and maybe some butter."
I had no idea I'd done that! I thought I'd pierced it's hide and thrown it in the microwave and then burned my finger tips taking the hide off before I called them for lunch. I must have blocked out all the other steps!
Food Fight!
A few years ago, I was sitting in a doctor's office waiting room thumbing through a magazine when I came across a great looking recipe for whole grain pancakes. The article that accompanied the recipe claimed that it was a family favourite and she, the mother, was so glad that she could feed her family such a healthy breakfast while they all thought it just tasted good.I quickly wrote down the recipe to try.
One of the ingredients was ground flax seed. I'd never cooked anything with it. I'd never even purchased it. I inquired at the grocery store. The worker at the store recommended a little health food store I should try. I began to wonder if this was some wacky food, I mean they didn't even sell it at the grocery store, did I want to go through with this?
It was a few weeks before I found myself at the little family run health store. It wasn't too large a store, but what they carried and the wealth of health food information they had was overwhelming. I found the flax seed, and they explained how to grind it up in my blender. I also found the mini melt mints my Grandma used to have, so I bought a bag of those, and a bag of candied ginger to torment, my mother with. I don't care for candied ginger but my mother can't stop eating it, even when it's tearing up her mouth. I was suitably impressed with the little store, and completely overwhelmed at the same time.
I took home my bag of flax seed and ground it up. I made my first batch of pancakes. MMMMM... They were tasty. I was hooked. For the next few years I made these pancakes exclusively.
Fast forward a few years. Church was switching to a 1:00 time slot, life on a daily basis was becoming hectic and mornings didn't lend themselves to time consuming pancakes. So although the kids love pancakes we decided that we would make pancakes a Sunday morning fare. As church times changed, pancakes switched from breakfast to dinner but still a Sunday meal. As the years progressed, I found myself finishing up and getting things done on Sunday mornings.. things that I ought to have done for Primary the night before but weren't, so slowly Patrick took over the pancake detail. That seemed to work just fine. Until one morning when he brought me a pancake I couldn't recognize. It was thin, and flimsy. Silly me, I mentioned that it was different.
His response... "yeah.. it isn't all crunchy and cardboard like."
Oh.
So he hadn't cared for my beloved pancakes? The kids had enjoyed them. Duncan was well known for downing as many as a dozen in one sitting.
Unfortunately, instead of a mature response, this was war. We were going to have it out over pancakes. For months it was a race to the kitchen each Sunday morning to determine whose pancakes would be made. This hardly led to a reverent or spiritual feel before church. Quite the opposite. Yes.. fickle, shallow, and absurd.. and over pancakes!!
So after way too long... we decided that instead of fighting each other over pancakes we would seek out all new pancake recipes that we could try and resolve our marital pancake woes with a compromise recipe! We're still looking... but we're not fighting anymore.... about pancakes! (Don't get me started over syrup!!)
Today we woke even earlier than our regular before the sun wake up time and proceeded to IHOP! They've been serving their short stack of buttermilk pancakes FREE!! all day. It's a fund raiser for Children's hospitals. We've certainly been grateful for children's hospitals! So we all enjoyed some tasty pancakes and hot cocoa before our day began!
Perhaps if IHOP delivered we wouldn't be in such a predicament. We could just order our own preferences....I should mention that I'm aware that this has gone on way too long. In an effort at peace talks, Patrick and the kids bought a waffle iron for me for Mother's day last year.
We agree on waffles.
Cooperisms
Cooper hasn't really showed a lot of interest in Whittaker. An offer to hold Whittaker would be accepted but he would be finished in less than three seconds... not like Derek who would hold him all day if we allowed it! But something was different this Saturday morning. There was a lego-athon going on downstairs so I was enjoying a quiet morning upstairs with just Whittaker.
Cooper, taking a break from the lego fray, came quietly upstairs. He crept up to me timidly and then asked if Whittaker was getting bigger yet? Yes. Can he start learning things? Yes.
A huge grin appeared on Coopers face. "Whittaker, this is clapping. Would you like to try it?"
Whittaker in a playful mood luckily, was madly waving his arms around.
"No, that is waving. Clapping is like this." (obviously, Cooper is demonstrating in exaggerated slow motion, clapping!) Whittaker banged his hands on the table. "No. That's like drumming."
"Nova, I don't think he's ready to learn yet."
Then Whittaker flashed Cooper a smile. And then a little chortle. Cooper was in love. "He likes me talking to him."
Cooper continued to talk to him for a few minutes. Cooper doesn't typically stand still in one place too long and so it wasn't long before he was jumping up and down while he talked to Whittaker. Whittaker began to laugh in full force.
Cooper explained it to me, "He thinks it's funny that I keep growing and then shrinking. He doesn't understand about jumping yet either."
Cooper, taking a break from the lego fray, came quietly upstairs. He crept up to me timidly and then asked if Whittaker was getting bigger yet? Yes. Can he start learning things? Yes.
A huge grin appeared on Coopers face. "Whittaker, this is clapping. Would you like to try it?"
Whittaker in a playful mood luckily, was madly waving his arms around.
"No, that is waving. Clapping is like this." (obviously, Cooper is demonstrating in exaggerated slow motion, clapping!) Whittaker banged his hands on the table. "No. That's like drumming."
"Nova, I don't think he's ready to learn yet."
Then Whittaker flashed Cooper a smile. And then a little chortle. Cooper was in love. "He likes me talking to him."
Cooper continued to talk to him for a few minutes. Cooper doesn't typically stand still in one place too long and so it wasn't long before he was jumping up and down while he talked to Whittaker. Whittaker began to laugh in full force.
Cooper explained it to me, "He thinks it's funny that I keep growing and then shrinking. He doesn't understand about jumping yet either."
Ethical Dilemma
I have blogged about my ladies (chickens) in the past. They've brought me joy, excitement, trauma, disappointment, satisfaction, eggs, headaches, contemplation, and now an ethical dilemma.
As I'm sure everyone recalls, since it was so scintillating a tale, Lady Cluck has a fabulous story! She survived against all odds. She was attacked, escaped the coop and ran away and was miraculously found one day when Opus escaped the yard and brought her back to us in her mouth!! It was incredible. It was unbelievable. So why did we believe it? Why didn't we question how it was possible that two weeks after her disappearance she would return in the runaway dogs mouth? Why did we assume that Opus was simply returning her to us and not trying to devour her, but we got in the way? Why were we so naive to think that all her trauma caused her to be a somewhat smaller chicken than the others of her age? Why didn't we wonder at the fact that she almost appeared to be a different breed?
It has come to my attention that a home in our neighbourhood... about a block north and a block and a half east of us also have chickens. Their chickens.. all of them... resemble our Lady Cluck exactly. Why didn't we consider that perhaps Opus wasn't a wonderful chicken herding and rescuing dog.. but rather the hunting hound dog that she truly is!!
So for over a year and half I believe I've been housing and collecting eggs from a chicken belonging to a neighbour. A neighbour I don't even know. How does one go about returning a chicken that is likely about to stop laying soon, and explain that my dog is to blame? It almost sounds like the lame "my dog ate my homework" excuse... "my dog stole your chicken".
Now they weren't missing the chicken too badly... I never saw a lost chicken sign. I can assure you, I'd have returned her immediately had I seen a sign. So what do I do now?
As I'm sure everyone recalls, since it was so scintillating a tale, Lady Cluck has a fabulous story! She survived against all odds. She was attacked, escaped the coop and ran away and was miraculously found one day when Opus escaped the yard and brought her back to us in her mouth!! It was incredible. It was unbelievable. So why did we believe it? Why didn't we question how it was possible that two weeks after her disappearance she would return in the runaway dogs mouth? Why did we assume that Opus was simply returning her to us and not trying to devour her, but we got in the way? Why were we so naive to think that all her trauma caused her to be a somewhat smaller chicken than the others of her age? Why didn't we wonder at the fact that she almost appeared to be a different breed?
It has come to my attention that a home in our neighbourhood... about a block north and a block and a half east of us also have chickens. Their chickens.. all of them... resemble our Lady Cluck exactly. Why didn't we consider that perhaps Opus wasn't a wonderful chicken herding and rescuing dog.. but rather the hunting hound dog that she truly is!!
So for over a year and half I believe I've been housing and collecting eggs from a chicken belonging to a neighbour. A neighbour I don't even know. How does one go about returning a chicken that is likely about to stop laying soon, and explain that my dog is to blame? It almost sounds like the lame "my dog ate my homework" excuse... "my dog stole your chicken".Now they weren't missing the chicken too badly... I never saw a lost chicken sign. I can assure you, I'd have returned her immediately had I seen a sign. So what do I do now?
Forties File Friday -- Sports
The Olympic Forties File Friday topic..
... Sports. Childhood teams, dreams of being a pro at something? wish you hadn't played. wish you had played something else. Humorous memory of a sporting event? Are you still sports inclined or did you feel sports challenged? Do you feel sports were important to be involved in... Did you become a sporting parent? Tell of the sports that have shaped your life.. or shaped your body... Perhaps you prefer to watch sports are you an avid fan of something?? come out of the closet.. fess up do tell we all want to know... do we have a closet curler in the family... or a dream of greatness in turtle races?
I hang my head since I neglected to get my post done....
And the Gold goes to...
EDEN
When I was little I wanted desperately to be in gymnastics and I remember going for a week or month or something, i think it was a free trial. I loved it. When we went to Texas I played volleyball and still truly have a love for the game, despite my height, i am still a major threat at the net!! When we moved back to Victoria, i played basketball in junior high and high school. and although again my lack of height played a roll, i made up for it in heart. Defense and passing were my specialties. I always had to check the biggest threat from the other team. I never had the highest points in a game but I knew i had an important role and my team respected my grit.
Around this time (15) i started to become interested in kickboxing, some popular kids from my school were in it. I got the information packet and showed mum and dad but it was a no go, Peterec's gym unlimited membership for a year more than $1000, maybe wasnt the best starting point.
When i was 20, I lived in an apartment on cook street all by myself for about a year. I missed the exercise and team sports of my youth as well I was feeling a little unsure of what i was supposed to do with my life. I bought my first YOGA vhs and did it in my living room and barely got thru the whole thing but even though it was hard, it was perfect. And it was there, in my little place that I began to explore myself and what i wanted for my body and life. I continue to do Yoga, and buy more movies and attend classes.
After each baby I dabbled in running for the cardio as well as the mental space. My neighbours probably thought i was crazy running in circles around the soccer field beside my house, but it was free and convenient and effective. Even if i was tired and frustrated with the Ava, it offered me a good break to just run mindlessly (or mindfully) for 5-10 laps and then come home 20 mins later, happier!
I finally took a self defense class when I was 28 and just as I knew 14 years ago, I loved it. I continued on taking muay thai kickboxing for 1 year. One day in class the Teacher, mentioned that she would be opening an new gym in jan 2010, and there would be yoga there:) So there it was, i was to teach yoga in a MMA gym. I had been toying with the idea for 10 years and here was my opportunity.
the natural inclination I had for gymnastics at the tender age of 6,wanting to stretch and manipulate my body. the determination I channeled in basketball and volleyball, the awareness I cultivated while running about the importance of exercise and carving out time to care for my body, the discipline and sense of self confidence i got in muay thai, all prepared me for this time of my life, when i am lucky enough to know my passion and make it my work.
Sports have both influenced and shaped my life.
mama E (RYT)
registered yoga teacher may 2010!
The Silver Medal to...
MUM
this is a hard one... I'm of few words ...and that just isn't my style...is it ? The lack of words goes with the real lack of sports in my life .
As a little girl , I liked to roller skate...and that 'sport' moved into figure skating . I think that is the only sport that i stayed with to ever accomplished any level of real skill.
In school p e classes i had a go at track and field, badminton volley ball , basket and baseball "! none o f which i pursued outside of class. tho i was a good hitter ! I and did stay a spell with long jump and did better at that than I did with high jump.......again the duration wasn't long.
in later years i had a go at the hammer throw , and placed ! at the highland games but that was a limited engagement !
As far as my sports interest..i n the spectator category.. hockey is the only one that stands out . I did play grass hockey for a length of time but only watched ice hockey.
..
If i were to be pursuing a sport now at this stage o f my life it would be archery, horse shoes and tap dancing !
It could be said that i have an interest in any and every sport if I have a personal interest in one of the participants !
And I will honestly take the Bronze
NOVA
I am not what I would consider to be an athletic individual. I did participate in sports as a child, I was a soccer goalie, loved drop kicking, and I was on the cross country running team for a few years in high school. I excelled as a basketball scorekeeper and became skilled at operating the time clock and other electronic (high tech for the day) equipment. But that is the extent of my organized sports involvement. I was involved in highland dancing, and in Texas, drill team... but they aren't really sports.
Now in high school, we were introduced to many different sports. I remember some more fondly than others. I wasn't keen on field hockey, playing basketball or many of the track and field events. I thought baseball was my speed until I was told to stop making daisy chains out in the fields. Volleyball was big since Channa was so involved in it and although I tried out for the team, it wasn't an exciting endeavor either. I did however enjoy the unit in P.E. class that took us to the Rec. center's tennis bubble, and the gymnastics unit.. although not all the stations. I was a dreadful vaulter, disliked the floor exercises and couldn't get enough of the balance beam or the uneven bars! I liked the swimming unit so much that Channa and I decided to try going swimming each morning before school. That worked for as long as I was willing to drag her out of her bed... which she often didn't go for. On days that I successfully woke her and we went it was fun... I never did quite master the spin around at the end of the lane to swim the next lap. I didn't ever become a grand swimmer though. I did swim daily for about 2 years after Duncan was born. I'm an on again off again athlete.
I've done step aerobics, plenty of video workouts, found that I love yoga and pilates and currently get exercise in any time I can, but sports .... well... I'm no Olympian.
I coached a little league baseball team one year for Sarah and Miles. It was a lot of fun.
It has been brought to my attention that I neglected to enter contestant in the Sports Olympics Forties File Friday posting. I received this post orally a full week before anyone else entered!
So the honourable mention PLATINUM medal goes to....
PAIGE!
Against organization. Organized sports, religions, homes etc....
In Elementary, wished she could be the goalie on the soccer team.
... Sports. Childhood teams, dreams of being a pro at something? wish you hadn't played. wish you had played something else. Humorous memory of a sporting event? Are you still sports inclined or did you feel sports challenged? Do you feel sports were important to be involved in... Did you become a sporting parent? Tell of the sports that have shaped your life.. or shaped your body... Perhaps you prefer to watch sports are you an avid fan of something?? come out of the closet.. fess up do tell we all want to know... do we have a closet curler in the family... or a dream of greatness in turtle races?
I hang my head since I neglected to get my post done....
And the Gold goes to...
EDEN
When I was little I wanted desperately to be in gymnastics and I remember going for a week or month or something, i think it was a free trial. I loved it. When we went to Texas I played volleyball and still truly have a love for the game, despite my height, i am still a major threat at the net!! When we moved back to Victoria, i played basketball in junior high and high school. and although again my lack of height played a roll, i made up for it in heart. Defense and passing were my specialties. I always had to check the biggest threat from the other team. I never had the highest points in a game but I knew i had an important role and my team respected my grit.
Around this time (15) i started to become interested in kickboxing, some popular kids from my school were in it. I got the information packet and showed mum and dad but it was a no go, Peterec's gym unlimited membership for a year more than $1000, maybe wasnt the best starting point.
When i was 20, I lived in an apartment on cook street all by myself for about a year. I missed the exercise and team sports of my youth as well I was feeling a little unsure of what i was supposed to do with my life. I bought my first YOGA vhs and did it in my living room and barely got thru the whole thing but even though it was hard, it was perfect. And it was there, in my little place that I began to explore myself and what i wanted for my body and life. I continue to do Yoga, and buy more movies and attend classes.
After each baby I dabbled in running for the cardio as well as the mental space. My neighbours probably thought i was crazy running in circles around the soccer field beside my house, but it was free and convenient and effective. Even if i was tired and frustrated with the Ava, it offered me a good break to just run mindlessly (or mindfully) for 5-10 laps and then come home 20 mins later, happier!
I finally took a self defense class when I was 28 and just as I knew 14 years ago, I loved it. I continued on taking muay thai kickboxing for 1 year. One day in class the Teacher, mentioned that she would be opening an new gym in jan 2010, and there would be yoga there:) So there it was, i was to teach yoga in a MMA gym. I had been toying with the idea for 10 years and here was my opportunity.
the natural inclination I had for gymnastics at the tender age of 6,wanting to stretch and manipulate my body. the determination I channeled in basketball and volleyball, the awareness I cultivated while running about the importance of exercise and carving out time to care for my body, the discipline and sense of self confidence i got in muay thai, all prepared me for this time of my life, when i am lucky enough to know my passion and make it my work.
Sports have both influenced and shaped my life.
mama E (RYT)
registered yoga teacher may 2010!
The Silver Medal to...
MUM
this is a hard one... I'm of few words ...and that just isn't my style...is it ? The lack of words goes with the real lack of sports in my life .
As a little girl , I liked to roller skate...and that 'sport' moved into figure skating . I think that is the only sport that i stayed with to ever accomplished any level of real skill.
In school p e classes i had a go at track and field, badminton volley ball , basket and baseball "! none o f which i pursued outside of class. tho i was a good hitter ! I and did stay a spell with long jump and did better at that than I did with high jump.......again the duration wasn't long.
in later years i had a go at the hammer throw , and placed ! at the highland games but that was a limited engagement !
As far as my sports interest..i n the spectator category.. hockey is the only one that stands out . I did play grass hockey for a length of time but only watched ice hockey.
..
If i were to be pursuing a sport now at this stage o f my life it would be archery, horse shoes and tap dancing !
It could be said that i have an interest in any and every sport if I have a personal interest in one of the participants !
And I will honestly take the Bronze
NOVA
I am not what I would consider to be an athletic individual. I did participate in sports as a child, I was a soccer goalie, loved drop kicking, and I was on the cross country running team for a few years in high school. I excelled as a basketball scorekeeper and became skilled at operating the time clock and other electronic (high tech for the day) equipment. But that is the extent of my organized sports involvement. I was involved in highland dancing, and in Texas, drill team... but they aren't really sports.
Now in high school, we were introduced to many different sports. I remember some more fondly than others. I wasn't keen on field hockey, playing basketball or many of the track and field events. I thought baseball was my speed until I was told to stop making daisy chains out in the fields. Volleyball was big since Channa was so involved in it and although I tried out for the team, it wasn't an exciting endeavor either. I did however enjoy the unit in P.E. class that took us to the Rec. center's tennis bubble, and the gymnastics unit.. although not all the stations. I was a dreadful vaulter, disliked the floor exercises and couldn't get enough of the balance beam or the uneven bars! I liked the swimming unit so much that Channa and I decided to try going swimming each morning before school. That worked for as long as I was willing to drag her out of her bed... which she often didn't go for. On days that I successfully woke her and we went it was fun... I never did quite master the spin around at the end of the lane to swim the next lap. I didn't ever become a grand swimmer though. I did swim daily for about 2 years after Duncan was born. I'm an on again off again athlete.
I've done step aerobics, plenty of video workouts, found that I love yoga and pilates and currently get exercise in any time I can, but sports .... well... I'm no Olympian.
I coached a little league baseball team one year for Sarah and Miles. It was a lot of fun.
It has been brought to my attention that I neglected to enter contestant in the Sports Olympics Forties File Friday posting. I received this post orally a full week before anyone else entered!
So the honourable mention PLATINUM medal goes to....
PAIGE!
Against organization. Organized sports, religions, homes etc....
In Elementary, wished she could be the goalie on the soccer team.
Pictures say a thousand words... not always kind ones though
Why the new photo header? Why not a happier family? I'll try to let the pictures speak for themselves...
When enough time has passed that each of them can block out the memory of the torture, and the weather warms up.. I'll try again.
In case of emergency
Can't leave Whittaker alone for a minute..... with Caleb that is.
(No injury... just a defenseless first aid practicing victim. Not sure what type of head injury he's preparing for though)
(No injury... just a defenseless first aid practicing victim. Not sure what type of head injury he's preparing for though)
I LOVE blogging
My 500th post has fallen on Valentines day.
Is this a sign from the great universe that I can have faith in this loathed holiday again?
Is it worth mentioning at all... I was going to wait until post 1000, but, well.... I feel like I've established a habit, stuck to something big and need to reward myself. It has been 18 months since I began. I never thought I'd enjoy it so much.
Many of the last hundred or so blogs have come from the new one handed typing method I've acquired, out of necessity, while breastfeeding. I've learned a great deal in 500 posts. I can blabber on about just about anything. I seek approval or something because throughout the day I'll find myself checking for any comments or feedback. I worry endlessly that I've made a typo, spelling error or major grammatical slip. I always intend to return for more fine tooth editing but instead I churn it out and get sucked back into the daily grind of life around here. I've also simply learned a lot. As much as I LOVE blogging, I LOVE to google stuff. I love a good research quest, from medical symptoms, to craft ideas, to how to assistance, to facts and figures and historical information, I can't seem to learn enough about it all. If Google were a book and I could actually see its' size, perhaps it would be more daunting, but instead it's just a click away. A little information here and a little there.
So the latest thing I googled was one handed typing. I was curious if there was a proper method that might be more efficient.
Did you know that there are keyboards for the one handed typists??
A lot of breastfeeding mothers must wish to type! Or those with disabilities and such. A cool discovery. Can't really justify the expense for myself, besides I might not ever stop blogging if the typing were more convenient.
Did you know that if you are only typing with your left hand in the correct left position on the qwerty keyboard, you could spell 3403 words only using your left hand? The longest of these words is sweaterdresses. hmm.. my spellchecker doesn't believe that it's a word though... must not have been around during the 80's.
Did you know that if you are typing wth your right hand in the correct right position on the qwerty keyboard, you could spell only 451 words with only your right hand? The longest of these words is hypolimnion. It was also not detected by the spell checker or recognized by me, so I googled it.
P.S. I think this is the point where a famous or well read blogger would offer a giveaway of some sort. I am not one of them, but I could attempt a give away contest. I have a bag of barbies Sarah no longer wants and 7 odd socks that are causing me a headache in the laundry!
Any takers...
Anyone???
There aren't any rules... just claim them....
I just know choosing a winner is going to be a tough one!
Is this a sign from the great universe that I can have faith in this loathed holiday again?Is it worth mentioning at all... I was going to wait until post 1000, but, well.... I feel like I've established a habit, stuck to something big and need to reward myself. It has been 18 months since I began. I never thought I'd enjoy it so much.
Many of the last hundred or so blogs have come from the new one handed typing method I've acquired, out of necessity, while breastfeeding. I've learned a great deal in 500 posts. I can blabber on about just about anything. I seek approval or something because throughout the day I'll find myself checking for any comments or feedback. I worry endlessly that I've made a typo, spelling error or major grammatical slip. I always intend to return for more fine tooth editing but instead I churn it out and get sucked back into the daily grind of life around here. I've also simply learned a lot. As much as I LOVE blogging, I LOVE to google stuff. I love a good research quest, from medical symptoms, to craft ideas, to how to assistance, to facts and figures and historical information, I can't seem to learn enough about it all. If Google were a book and I could actually see its' size, perhaps it would be more daunting, but instead it's just a click away. A little information here and a little there.
So the latest thing I googled was one handed typing. I was curious if there was a proper method that might be more efficient.
Did you know that there are keyboards for the one handed typists??
A lot of breastfeeding mothers must wish to type! Or those with disabilities and such. A cool discovery. Can't really justify the expense for myself, besides I might not ever stop blogging if the typing were more convenient.
Did you know that if you are only typing with your left hand in the correct left position on the qwerty keyboard, you could spell 3403 words only using your left hand? The longest of these words is sweaterdresses. hmm.. my spellchecker doesn't believe that it's a word though... must not have been around during the 80's.
Did you know that if you are typing wth your right hand in the correct right position on the qwerty keyboard, you could spell only 451 words with only your right hand? The longest of these words is hypolimnion. It was also not detected by the spell checker or recognized by me, so I googled it.
The hypolimnion is the dense, bottom layer of water in a thermally-stratified lake. It is the layer that lies below the thermocline. Typically the hypolimnion is the coldest layer of a lake in summer, and the warmest layer during winter. Being at depth, it is isolated from surface wind-mixing during summer, and usually receives insufficient irradiance (light) for photosynthesis to occur. In deep, temperate lakes, the bottom-most waters of the hypolimnion are typically close to 4°C throughout the year. The hypolimnion may be much warmer in lakes at warmer latitudes.Can't you just rest easier now that you know these things? Happy 500 to you folks who follow along both the humdrum and the neurotic moments of my life.
P.S. I think this is the point where a famous or well read blogger would offer a giveaway of some sort. I am not one of them, but I could attempt a give away contest. I have a bag of barbies Sarah no longer wants and 7 odd socks that are causing me a headache in the laundry!
Any takers...
Anyone???
There aren't any rules... just claim them....
I just know choosing a winner is going to be a tough one!
BTW... Happy Birthday Brook!
Go Canada!
As Canada hosts the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, I decided (last minute of course), to host a Canadian Olympic opening ceremonies watching party. With only 15 minutes to plan it.... it went something like this.
"Do you guys want to invite someone over to watch the Olympics tonight?"
-"What kind of Olympics?"
-"Who can we invite?"
-"Do we have to? Can we just have friends over?"
-"Can we have popcorn?"
I rolled my eyes. The kids called friends and I dug out my Canadian flags and popped popcorn.
They were all super good sports (important in Olympians and the spectators!) They put up with my singing of the National anthem, and my interesting facts commentary as well as my punny jokes! Except not all of them... there were those who found a game of chess, air hockey, and a box of legoes more interesting than the ceremonies or me. So at some point all the children were missing but they inquired repeatedly, if it was time to see the flame get lit yet.... too bad they missed all the parts that didn't have technical difficulties!
"Do you guys want to invite someone over to watch the Olympics tonight?"
-"What kind of Olympics?"
-"Who can we invite?"
-"Do we have to? Can we just have friends over?"
-"Can we have popcorn?"
I rolled my eyes. The kids called friends and I dug out my Canadian flags and popped popcorn.
They were all super good sports (important in Olympians and the spectators!) They put up with my singing of the National anthem, and my interesting facts commentary as well as my punny jokes! Except not all of them... there were those who found a game of chess, air hockey, and a box of legoes more interesting than the ceremonies or me. So at some point all the children were missing but they inquired repeatedly, if it was time to see the flame get lit yet.... too bad they missed all the parts that didn't have technical difficulties!
As time goes by...
Once upon a time, I was so glad I had a camera to capture a few moments....
When a picture said a thousand words...
Caleb 1995
Sarah 1999
And some instantly became my absolute favourites....
Miles Surgery, May 2001
Some evoke some deep emotions, gratitude and reminders of how blessed I have been...
Miles 2001
Some simply bring a smile to your face...
Duncan 2003
Some chronicle a time of life....
Whittaker 2009
Some prove that you've gone digital and there are no holds barred... it's ok to be snap happy....
(and one day you'll figure out how to explain the discrepancy to the older children about why there's 1 picture to his 25!!)
At some point between Miles and Duncan, I saw a lovely idea where a mother had taken a photo of her child on the same day each month for the child's first year. A see me grow collage. I liked the idea but wondered if I could do something for one child without having the opportunity to do it for the three previous children.?? I reasoned... They've each had different opportunities and I should simply do now what I know about and not be so concerned about the past. Caleb will have his road trip memories, Sarah will always have her own room, and Miles has his surgical claim to fame... so Duncan could have his year of photos collage.
So I proceeded to take a photo on the 26th of each month.... unless I forgot and then I'd take one on the 27th or 28th. My camera died when he was 5 months old. It had been a great camera but now I had to make a decision... Do I join the 21st century and get a digital camera? After much researching, I plunged into the digital world. I warmed up to the idea of taking multiple photos to ensure that I captured that one magic photo. I warmed up some more until I was soon finding myself to be unable to just snap one photo. ever. I suddenly had multiple photos of every event.
When Whittaker was born, I decided to again make a year of photos collage. Somewhere along the line however.... I got carried away... and I had assistance... and assistants who have also become snap happy....
And so I give you... September 12th,
October 12th,
November 12th,
December 12th,
January 12th,
And February 12th, 
He's officially 6 months old today. I have over 1,500 photos of just Whittaker on the computer already. Am I glad I've lots of photos of my children? Absolutely. Am I overwhelmed with the sheer volume of photos that I have of my children? Absolutely. Am I likely to take even more photos in the years to come? Absolutely. Especially since I've been mulling over a new idea I heard about a few months ago to take 12 photos of your family on the 12th of each month to chronicle the moments of day to day life. Just regular stuff, like reading a book or washing the car or taking a nap... whatever happens to fill the day. Cool idea eh?..... (might need another hard drive...)
My mother heard that a person only needs 7 photos for their life to be chronicled.... I like to be thorough!
When a picture said a thousand words...
Caleb 1995
Sarah 1999
Miles Surgery, May 2001
Miles 2001
Duncan 2003
Whittaker 2009(and one day you'll figure out how to explain the discrepancy to the older children about why there's 1 picture to his 25!!)
At some point between Miles and Duncan, I saw a lovely idea where a mother had taken a photo of her child on the same day each month for the child's first year. A see me grow collage. I liked the idea but wondered if I could do something for one child without having the opportunity to do it for the three previous children.?? I reasoned... They've each had different opportunities and I should simply do now what I know about and not be so concerned about the past. Caleb will have his road trip memories, Sarah will always have her own room, and Miles has his surgical claim to fame... so Duncan could have his year of photos collage.
So I proceeded to take a photo on the 26th of each month.... unless I forgot and then I'd take one on the 27th or 28th. My camera died when he was 5 months old. It had been a great camera but now I had to make a decision... Do I join the 21st century and get a digital camera? After much researching, I plunged into the digital world. I warmed up to the idea of taking multiple photos to ensure that I captured that one magic photo. I warmed up some more until I was soon finding myself to be unable to just snap one photo. ever. I suddenly had multiple photos of every event.
When Whittaker was born, I decided to again make a year of photos collage. Somewhere along the line however.... I got carried away... and I had assistance... and assistants who have also become snap happy....
And so I give you... September 12th,
October 12th,
November 12th,
December 12th,
January 12th,
And February 12th, 
He's officially 6 months old today. I have over 1,500 photos of just Whittaker on the computer already. Am I glad I've lots of photos of my children? Absolutely. Am I overwhelmed with the sheer volume of photos that I have of my children? Absolutely. Am I likely to take even more photos in the years to come? Absolutely. Especially since I've been mulling over a new idea I heard about a few months ago to take 12 photos of your family on the 12th of each month to chronicle the moments of day to day life. Just regular stuff, like reading a book or washing the car or taking a nap... whatever happens to fill the day. Cool idea eh?..... (might need another hard drive...)My mother heard that a person only needs 7 photos for their life to be chronicled.... I like to be thorough!
Forties File Friday -- A Sticky Situation
A gum chewing girl and a cud chewing cow,
There's a difference I'll allow
It's the intelligent look
on the face of the COW!
It's the intelligent look
on the face of the COW!
Gum has been chewed for centuries."The most common ancient chewing gum was tree resin lumps, but people chewed various sweet grasses, leaves, grains and waxes also. Chewing gum has been used in various forms and flavors. The ancient Greeks chewed Mastiche; the ancient Mayans chewed the coagulated sap of the Sapodilla tree; North American Indians chewed the sap from spruce trees…"Betcha didn't know that!
"chewing gum users today are chewing a flavoured, synthetic rubber that is non biodegradable."
Doesn't that sound appetizing?
Why do we feel the need in the 21st century to make things artificially without thought to the negative impacts that they may have on us, our bodies or our future generations?
From a colourful attractive dispenser to the sticky nuisance.But nuisance isn't strong enough of a word for the substance that wreaks custodial havoc, costing millions of dollars to many organizations to attempt to clean up the nastiness. Gum and cigarette butts.. at what point did these become acceptable things to toss anywhere? When did this become peoples idea of ground cover? If I were to partially eat my sandwich and then tuck the remainder of the sandwich that I no longer wish to eat under my seat, on the sidewalk, under the table at the restaurant or smear it on a public bathroom wall so that I no longer had to be burdened with it... I would get stares to say the least. Likely I would get comments, or a ticket for littering. So what is the difference? At least my sandwich might biodegrade some day!! Isn't that what people think when they toss an apple core out of their car?
To be fair, you can create a list of pros and cons to chewing gum. A good debater could likely convince both that gum chewing is good or bad for you. I will not attempt to do either. Rather, I will simply share my findings (cause you know I've been researching it since my initial outrage earlier this week)....
Cons:
- smacking and popping sounds annoy the people around you
- shows disrespect in public settings, meetings, interviews, schools, churches etc...
- chewing tends to gulp in air, creating increased flatulence in chewers increases the incidences of TMJ
- once littered, costs a small fortune to clean up
- those sweetened with artificial sweeteners can cause diseases, and increase hunger while those with sugar added only reek havoc with diabetes, heart disease, and emotional disorders.
- sugar sweetened gum increases tooth decay
can be a trigger of migraine headaches
- alleviates ear popping when taking off and landing in airplanes, or driving in high elevations
- can assist those who are trying to give up smoking and other nicotine habits.
- never fear it does not stay in your digestive track for 7 years as many myths of touted
- can be effective in resisting cravings and assisting in weight loss success (ironically only the sugar varieties)
- it is suggested that students who chew during school pay attention, and perform better on tests and stay quieter longer
- alleviates dry mouth
- claims to reduces heartburn
- freshens breath (temporarily)
As for my own children. I've left the choice to them if they wish to chew. I do not have a hard no chew rule, however, I don't wish to see it or hear it. In the summer I ask them to chew outside, and in the winter I set a time limit so that it doesn't become an all day chewing fest!
While it's true that I grew up with a no gum rule in effect, I'm not sure if that is what made me anti-gum. How come I grew up in a no gum house. Doesn't really matter, I think Mum got made one day and no more gum was decreed, but it really wasn't an issue for me and never has been. I never felt deprived of the stuff. I did not hoard it. I did not choose to chew it when opportunities presented themselves. Perhaps it is because I never developed the habit. Perhaps I'm just a very obedient daughter. Perhaps I just didn't care. But I do now. I am not a gum chewer by choice. Perhaps I just wanted to look smarter than a cud chewing cow.
So there you have it....Interesting Trivia I learned in my research....
- Sixty years ago, in an effort to boost gum sales, a single cigarette was included free with the purchase of a pack of gum. Over the years they decided to target children and changed the cigarette to a baseball trading card.
- The first effort to make a sugar free version that dentists might approve was made with ammonia... to help clean your teeth while you chewed!
- An experiment gone wrong resulted in bubble gum, instead of just plain chewing gum!
- In the 1920's, clove flavouring was used to disguise alcohol on a person's breath during prohibition.
- It became illegal to sell gum in Singapore in 1992, due to the high cost of cleaning it up. It is not illegal to chew it... but if you can't buy it... it's not likely you can chew it!
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MUMI have to apologize up front.. for a blog response that turned into a chapter! 1800 words.
But it took all of that …………….. to defend myself…
IT ALL BEGAN WITH AN ADDITION TO THE LIST OF NURSURY RHYMES I LEARNED AS A CHILD…
A gum chewing girl and a cud chewing cow….”There’s a difference I’ll allow “
It’s the intelligent look …….. on the face of the cow…
When I was a little girl This was the little rhyme that my paternal grandmother said to me.
Was I at just the right impressionable age.. I don’t know .. but I do know that I had seen for myself the look of the cow . and never forgot the poem . I didn’t understand the twist of the idea of intelligent look..meaning the girl would look even less intelligent ( no offense to the bovine community ) . To me I just thought I didn’t want to look like the cows mouth when it was ‘cud chewing’..
This was enough for me to say no thank you to gum tho’ I believe it was rarely offered in the culture of my small world. Probably as I would be surrounded by people of the same generation and attitude as Grandma. I don’t believe there would have been much challenge to me …
Never the less, when I was a young teen, this negativity to gum was reinforced … It was encased in a theory that it could be used to identify one as an American.
1. We were a city, on an Island that was a great attraction to tourists. In the summer it was men in flamboyant colorful Bermuda shorts… seen in town whenever a ship from the U S docked in our inner harbour..Canadian men (and Brits) could be found wearing knee length shorts also ……. but in khaki color. And not worn in the percentages of the U S men….( to be fair, those visitors were on ‘ vacation (a U S word as we use Holiday, a word that is not nearly as accurate as the U S word. Just one more difference between “Americans and “Canadians” our words and our spelling). Canadians are a little sensitive to the adage we often hear from south of the border ‘Canadians are just Americans in the north and in a colder climate “ We don’t think we are.
Back to topic Gum…..
2. And more pointly , Americans could be identified by gum chewing.
A) This would be seen of course in the above Bermuda shorts clad men.
B) It was also seen when there would be school exchanges with students.. In class, they would be miffed that gum was not allowed in our schools… consequences would be detention and essay writing .
C) My city , Victoria, was listed on the circuit that qualified parade marchers and marching bands. As a result every 24th of May parade day we had bands arrive from US cities, ‘Never fail to have them come from cities in Washington, Oregon and northern California… We would see them parade by us .. a host of gum chewers marching in perfect precision except for their mouths… and lovely girls in beautiful gowns or swimsuits on floats spoiling their sweet smiles with the cud chewing look.
Then, When I was a young woman, the emphasis from the Dental community was emphatic that the added risk to tooth decay was to be blamed in large part to gum chewing.. Was it the grinding of the sugar into our teeth.. or was it the constant entry of sugar in the mouth as new sticks of gum were used by chain gum chewers I never knew….. This revelation impressed both consumers and manufacturers.. The advent of sugarless gum burst forth to meet the demands of more conscientious chewers.. and advertised enthusiastically so as not to lose a market..
When I was a young bride , and moved to the US and saw the prevalence of gum chewing it was so noticeable around me from my ‘sheltered child and youth hood” that I found it shocking… then in time it became commonplace, then almost acceptable to the point that I decided to try to be a gum chewer… I emphasize the word ‘try’. I found it to be ‘work’… my mouth was in constant motion while still trying to keep from looking like my lifelong vision of ‘that cow’. I became physically tired with all the jawing… It just wasn’t for me..
I watched when there would be a television ‘interviews’ and the interviewee talked between chews and when they would slip the gum aside.. they’d need to come up for air (so to speak) but the interviewers were always non chewers… as were news anchors and commentators.. or those hired to be in the public eye… I assumed that their companies and institutions were as my school days.. with the ‘no gum allowed’ rules…
Then the days came when I was a young mum. With small children and me in charge of the family purse and the grocery cart….gum wasn’t an issue.. However, I soon lost control when birthday parties of friends gave ‘gum’ as treats .. Then additional gum in favour bags (see as mentioned above, we spell favour not favor ). Kindergarten teachers would use the dispensing of gum on special occasion .. and ! ! as rewards and bribes ! ! !
I shudder when my memories of my childhood clashed with the reality with my own children’s’ culture…
However, when in Rome…………….. I eventually succumbed to the losing battle. and lifted my internal ban and that on the children.
UNTIL
A series of events
1. I became not only frustrated but intolerant with gum being stuck to pillows and blankets… but when it was ground into hair I found that even more annoying. !
2. When we were out visiting and the children were enjoying play with the cat of an older lady, and gum ( she had given the boys!) ended up in the fur of said cat.. The little ‘responsible’ boys gave their best efforts to trying to remove it … Inside the house ..older lady and I , heard a couple of dreadful cat squeals. We ran out to the deck in time to see the boys trying to contain an unwilling feline, making every squalling effort to escape having her fur being pulled by unskilled and desperate hands..
3. It was just a week or so later , after another birthday party favour bag…that I found myself in the laundry room taking clothes from the dryer… I love doing laundry but it was dreadful task that day… Gum had been in the dryer and latched itself around buttons ! and worst of all , in the hot metal zippers!!!
That was the last straw.. or the last stick ! ! My voice lost more than Gum Control… with decibels high and face intense with eyes like moons and eyebrows arched like the arc de triumph . my words went out thru the halls of the house..
“THERE WILL BE NO MORE GUM IN THIS HOUSE UNTIL YOU ARE 8 “.
That was the end of gum . Somehow, the children knew not to issue requests .. and knew to say no thank you when offered, to check the favour bags or school treats and remove them to give to others… The age of 8 just came out without thought. It could have been 18 ! or 28 ! but 8 is what came up and out .
I don’t recall having to reiterate the rule over the next few years.. in any strong measure. My loud announcement must have penetrated the genes o f even the later children to come… or perhaps there was an underground warning system as siblings were about to reach of supposed ‘gum age’.
While these above children were still little , we moved back to Canada , and away from the gum worries.. or so I thot until the one day I was in the bedroom of a later child , a seven year old s dresser drawers.. I rarely had needed to put laundry away for her . as the children all delivered their own folded items from the laundry area.. however, This day, at the back of the drawer, I found a cache o f gum… This turned out to be a 4 year collection ! Why was it collected and why was it there ? It represented many party favours, and Halloween treats that she obediently tucked away… A law abiding girls dream of the day that she would turn 8. I wonder how she envisioned that day, would it be of her delight with a mouth full of mighty stale sticks of gum…
Her dream wasn’t to be shattered.. An older brother advocated for her and in a little meeting wherein I had to stifle my smile and chuckle while expressing admiration for her adherence to the family culture…Older brother negotiated a compromise…
Would the gum patrol mum agree to the ' jeune fille' having permission in this last year before the ban would be lifted, for her , upon turning 8, to chew gum once a month… How could I refuse,? especially after stipulating that it was to be done on the first day of the month.. only… If she missed that day…. another month would be the wait… AND the gum was to be chewed in private..so as not to be ‘flaunting ‘ in front of the younger and still limited children..
Agreement reached ! Outcome…? This young lady was diligent with the first of the month for the first few months ……………… and then the novelty wore off. I’m sure sitting in isolation with the sole purpose to ‘chew’ would not be the thrill she had dreamed it to be.
General outcome for the rest of the children for the rest of the years….? ? All now are adults.. and I’ve never seen any of them ‘chew”. Not even when the eight year requirement came to be removed… Those first 8 years must have squelched the desire or at the least … not instilled a habit..
How it effected their lives and psyche …. I never asked.. I can no longer hide behind ‘the long ago curtain…
However , NOW.. Nova has put the question on the floor and opened it up for discussion…
We will be hearing from all 8 children and all 8 experiences….she has broadcast an invitation to all to send to her their memories and experiences.
MY QUESTIONS
1. Grandma ( 1885)?.. has your little poem and vision carried down unto the fourth generation ?
A gum chewing girl and a cud chewing, there’s a difference I’ll allow, It’s the intelligent look on the face of the cow.. How many of your more than 75 decedents have heard this mantra.?
2. Am I about to learn of clandestine gum chewing? during those nearly 40 years, from first child born in 1962 till the launching of the last in 1998 ! or to learn of their years of resulting trauma or deprival syndromes?
3. Am I about to be pleased with the results my mothering and child raising…? or will I be putting myself to pen and paper to extend apologies.
While I wait fo r the results of the polling,, please pass me a stick of GUM to see if will calm my nerves….…
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JILL
Gum.... when i think of Gum, I think of Channa... Channa seemed to be the only one in the family that had an issue with the Gum Law.. As I recall, after much lobbying and protest demonstrations she successfully had the law amended in the mid- 70's. The pre-existing complete ban was appealed and successfully lifted, to a more reasonable , attainable guideline. The new gum Law now stated that "one could engage in responsible gum chewing activity ( *see archives for complete definition) once they had reached the magical age of eight.."
you see it was common knowledge that by the ripe old age of eight, one was perfectly capable of knowing right from wrong, and therefore knew all about " choosing the right".. so they should no doubt be able to handle some gum chewing without it getting stuck in their hair or carpets or cats.....
Now,, as I recall more on the subject, I believe that Channa, after further campaigning , ( or complaining! ) she once again managed to have the powers that be, lessen the perimeters of the anti-gum law. She managed to negotiate a special clause that would permit the chewing of gum on the first day of each month. This was in attempt to prove the level of which the child was able to chew responsibly, as well as address the issue of " hoarding".. After several years of hallowe'en caches and birthday party loot bags (from familys with no apparent regard to under-age chewing) the sheer logistics of bedside drawers stuffed and overflowing with the forbidden treat was a problem in itself.. not to mention a potential rodent hazard. So one was able to legally chew away to their hearts content one day a month, provided that the master of the homestead did not " see or hear" the gum.
*note* further to the new ammendment.." if the 1st day of the month came and went, the chewer was to forfeit the ' gum day' until the next month.. I dont believe channa ever let that happen..
Some of us, like myself, didnt care about gum. I was quite happy to trade mine for reese's peanut butter cups..
I have always felt that gum chewing was over-rated, it often hurt my jaw, especially the double bubbles, they were hard squares and took a lot of chewing before the were soft enough to chew freely.. but by then my jaw was to sore to enjoy anything..and the comics that were enclosed in each wrapper were never funny.. a marketing ploy i presume, to get you to buy the stuff..
i do recall tho, blowing my first bubble. i was in auntie adele's driveway, in their back lane playing with kara and hil. For some reason, i give kara credit for teaching me, maybe it was just because she was there,. i am not sure.
As an adult I rarely chew it, on occasion i will accept an offer of a stick of gum.. but i dont 'stick with it' for long, and then i have to deal with disposing of it whilst driving , or at a restaurant..ughh. it's usually more trouble than its worth...
So naturally, i wasnt a gum mum... however, i did start putting packs in stockings at xmas , as the kids got a little older... well over the age of eight !!*****************************
PAIGEI am like an island. The Hawaii kind, not Alcatraz. Things don't happen around me that are annoying more than once. It's only pleasant things on my island. Tapping, leaning back on your chair, chewing your food loudly or with your mouth open and obviously having to see or hear your gum are the sorts of things that DO NOT OCCUR in my little island world.
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