Growing Family

Back to School

When I was a new mom, I would sometimes hear the mothers of school-aged children talking about their love-hate relationship with school holidays. I'd often hear them talk about how their child was driving them crazy and they just couldn't wait for school to start back.

I'd pity those mothers. I thought they were just missing out on really enjoying and appreciating their children. I'd hug my children closer and know that when my kids were old enough to go to school I wouldn't feel that way.

This morning I awoke, as I do every day, to the riotous sound of my nearly six year old son, bursting with testosterone. He jumps out of his bunk bed and our 100 year old heritage house shakes. He roars and the walls reverberate. He shrieks and yells and screams and I swear the house is going to fall down onto my bed and crush me. I pull my pillow over my head, telling myself "one and a half hours from now I will be dropping him off at school." I chant it over and over in my head as a sort of comforting lifeline to see me safely through another morning of my life.

See, what I didn't know when my kids were babies, is that nearly six-year-olds are different. No matter how much I do, no matter how many hours we spend at the park or the zoo, jumping on the trampoline, or going for nature walks, I cannot wear him out. He will drop at the end of the day, but not before wrestling and roaring and careening down the hall, shaking the floorboards with his energy.

School gives him a mental challenge that he needs. It helps to socially exhaust him. He needs school. I need school for him.

By the end of the two week school holidays we all want school to start again.

Small Sun and Sprout came home from school and preschool today calm, after two weeks of banter and fighting and high emotions. They were ordered and settled, which they certainly have not been around here lately! We had a ton of fun, but it was loud and calamitous, and no one had a quiet moment to think a thing!

It seems that all of us let out a big sigh of relief. 

I think I've made some progress in not judging other parents like I used to. It's easy to judge when you have little experience. These days I do my best to be open minded and realize different things work for different families. 

I imagine if some young mum heard the mothers in the schoolyard this morning, agreeing about how we couldn't wait to get the kids back into the classroom, they might shake their heads and hug their young ones close, and that's just fine. 

When Love Comes to Town

Tonight The Captain set Rattle and Hum going on my iPod while he cooked up a saucepan of fresh Chai tea. When he exited the (cozy.snug.intimate) kitchen space, I moved in to make dinner. I've been listening to Rattle and Hum for fifteen years, and it still sets me dancing barefoot in my kitchen, and ready to bolt barefoot out the door to solve all the injustices in the world. Thank you, Bono and crew.

Love has come to town, in the shape of my amazing parents. They are here for four (yes, 4!!!) weeks. 

We are all buzzing with the joy of having them here. One wonderful influence of their presence is seeing our happy life from the outside, all over again. We really love it here, but over time life has become routine and busy and my mind is often preoccupied with getting where I want to be, even if it is only a few kilometers away from where I am now.

Yesterday was an absolutely idyllic day. My mother and I went out on a hunt to find an apple tree (the provision for it was a gift from my favorite husband, for my 30th birthday, which passed this week). After way too much driving around and fruitless searching, we finally found one tree (I'll need two for pollination), and returned home triumphant. 

The backyard was abuzz when we arrived. We spent the whole rest of the day, outside in the warm sunshine, under the bright blue sky, all happy and industrious. Picnics happened under the trampoline. Naps occurred on blankets in the garden. We planted the apple tree and a butterfly bush. Spent zinnias were cleared out to let light in to bursting dahlias. Children rode around and around in their garden wagon. The dog alternated between mad races up and down the length of the yard, and lying, content in the company of the family. Laundry flapped on the line. It was perfect. 

My parents, fresh from the deep snow of a Cape Breton winter, couldn't stop exclaiming over the perfection of the weather, the sweetness of the children, and the happiness of the day. And they were right. It was amazing in its simplicity. Everyone was occupied with some small task that enveloped and interested them. Finch was obsessed with stealing my spade and moving dirt around.

The only reason we finally tidied up and poured inside was to keep our first-ever Skype date with my brother and his family, since they moved to Africa. If only my sister had been able to get in on the Skype from New York, we would have all been "together" for a moment.

Having my parents here lets me see my life from a fresh perspective. Sometimes that means seeing an area that needs a little work in our parenting or routine, but mostly is just adds a shine and a glimmer to a very happy life, made even happier by their presence. I can't wait to do all the fun things I have planned: Caves, Apple picking in the mountains, petting Australian animals at a local wildlife park, an Australian road trip, and all the little, wonderful, everyday moments in between.