A Choice...

In the midst of packing up our entire house last week, I finally got the call about the transfer I'd been wanting back to high school. The gig I have now is fun but, not at all what I want to be doing. I was offered a one year job at my old school. No guarantees to stay the next year. It was for teaching subjects I'm familiar and that I miss. The only catch was that it was only being offered as full-time.

After a walk the park with my sweet babies, I decided to say "no" to a full-time job doing what I love to settle for a job that's okay. Don't get me wrong, my students are FABULOUS; I just miss the rigor of upper level thinking.

This is my season to be a Momma. I had a lovely season of surly teenagers, busy extra-curr and marking until the wee hours. Now, I get to snuggle my sweeties, play important little games and go about the business of looking after the practical needs of our home. I am one fortunate soul! Eventually, I'll find my way back to full-time life in the classroom. Until then, I'll be rocking my babies because babies don't keep!

This Old House

Six years ago, we moved into this cute little bungalow and made it our own.
I learned about flowers and compost and painting and cleaning.
Trevor learned to drywall, build a porch, rip up carpet and clean gutters.
We became happy home owners here.
Fergus came into our lives and ate our baseboards and snuggled at my feet every night.
We brought home our sweet, sleepless little Simon.
We spent many nights pacing the hardwood and bouncing in the bathroom.
We brought home our sleepy, silly little Claire.
We hosted friends, neighbours, parties, play dates, birthdays, daycare, dedication days, game nights and wedding showers.
We danced with each other and with our babies in the living room.
I baked my heart out in my little alley kitchen.
I marked over a thousand assignments here.
This old house has allowed us a home in which to live life to the fullest, and we have!
Tomorrow, we move out.

We're a family in transition. Our "Someday House" is still for someday... whenever the builder finally gets it done (mid-June, fingers crossed). We'll be at Trevor's parents' place until then. It's kind of home. We're telling the kids it's a holiday at Grandma and Grandpa's.

Loss of Innocence

S - My Sore Throat Microbe is a bad guy, Momma.
Me - Really, why?
S - He makes people hurted.
Me - Oh? Where?
S - Here (indicates throat). It's not nice.
Me - Sore Throats do hurt.
S - I can pet this guy, but I don't put him inside me.
Me - That's a good idea.
S - If I putted him inside me, I'd be hurted.
Me - True.

Poor Simon, it's hard to realize that the toy microbes he plays with are "bad guys". He's become my little philosopher lately. So many questions and so many ideas. It's fun to watch his mind at work. (I'm also praying for patience as I answer "Momma, what is that?" for the millionth time today.)
S - Why do we play?
S - Why do we whisper when that man is talking to Jesus?
S - Why are we moving?
S - Why is Claire my sister?
S - Why did I have to have a Time Out?
S - Why are we eating this for supper?
S - Why is that dandelion white?
S - Why is Fergus a cat?
S - Why is today a holiday?

Boxed Up

Our move to our "Someday House" is becoming a fast reality. We move out of our little bungalow on May 26th. This gives us time to clean up and have things settled for the new owner to take possession at the beginning of June. We get possession of our "Someday House" on June 16th. Hmmm... those dates sure don't line up, do they? Our builder has arranged to store our stuff in a secure lot in a storage trailer for our "homeless days". We plan on moving in with family for a short holiday. Currently, my house is beginning to look like a collection of box piles. (Mostly liquor boxes, which I find deeply amusing!) It's on odd feeling to pack the tangibles of my life away. I know that it's just stuff but, it's my stuff. It'll be good to be in our new house. I guess I should begin to embrace the unsettled feeling that will be my life for the next month.

My Momma

Dear Mom, Thanks for being such a great Mom. Growing up, I didn't know how good I had it. Homemade cookies, hand-packed lunches, fresh laundry, a gleaming house, lots of space for my friends to come and hang out and, best of all, someone who was always there to listen. Being a stay-at-home Mom in the middle of nowhere with an out-of-town husband was a huge challenge. I whine when I have to put the kids to bed once a week... not all the time. I'm sure we drove you bananas most days. I don't ever remember you taking that out on us. You always played and made sure that we felt important in your life. Now, you're one of my best friends. You're the only person (besides Shiya or Claire) that I actually like shopping with. You're the first person I want to call when one of the kids does or says something wonderful (or ridiculous). I miss you when you're away. Thanks so much for being an amazing mother and an amazing friend. I hope that I can be as good of a Mom to Simon and Claire as you were to Tim and I. I love you! Happy Mother's Day!

DNA for b-day craziness???

These days, it isn't hard to find an article or a TV show about scientists discovering a new gene for just about any and every behavior.

I want to know what gene makes mothers go a little crazy about birthdays? Seriously, what, in the evolutionary process (mirco-evolution, folks, I'm a creationist) makes mothers spend hours and hours and hours decorating cakes, shopping for and wrapping the "right" gifts, making elaborate invitations and decorations, cooking large meals, blowing up zillions of balloons and having huge parties for their children. Just look up birthday party ideas on Pinterest for a sampling of Mommies gone crazy.

We celebrated Simon's 3rd B-day and I spent hours on his party. I LOVED it! It gave me such great joy to see his little face light up when he saw his balloons, his bug cupcakes, his cool presents and all his favorite people gathered together. I don't know who was more excited, me or him. He's only 3, will he remember it all? Probably not. However, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

I wonder what is in my DNA that makes me do this and gives me so much pleasure for it?

Yep, I'm weird. Maybe I've got the excitable Momma gene... sigh. Thanks for the cool ideas, Hello, Cupcake!