Thursday, July 9, 2009

Zipper Angst

As if I don't have enough on my plate with answering questions, looking for deals to Disney, and ignoring laundry, I have a pressing issue I've been confronting in the last week: zippers.

Jackson has countless jackets where the zippers are broken. Their dysfunctions differ. On some the end is broken off so. Some are near impossible to zip up. One has missing teeth. Others jam and require the jaws of life to extricate the boy.

I keep buying more and more jackets, not believing what bad luck we have. More than once we have been in the lets-go-we're-going-to-be-late-for-school-hurry-up-put-your-shoes-on-do-you-have-your-backpack-put-your-jacket-on scenario and it all comes to a screeching halt over zippers. Jacket after jacket is put on and then discarded into a heap over zipper issues. More than once this has caused us to be late for school. More than once the J Boy has gone to school without a jacket, with one inappropriate to the weather or in one belonging to his sister. It's bloody irritating.

In February, the J Boy had been wearing his snow jacket when the weather did not require it. When even that jacket, our last holdout in the working zipper category, failed, I was beat. After one of those mornings when zippers caused us all far too much stress, I went in search of yet another jacket and I was prepared to pay whatever it cost for a better quality jacket. I hypothesized that my buying cheaper jackets was the root of the problem.

I found a very nice light rain jacket. It was an excellent brand (Columbia) and on sale for the same price as I usually pay for inferior quality. I bought this better quality jacket quickly when I found one remaining one in Jackson's size, and knowing that better days were ahead in the zipper department (see photo).

I think I pointed out the perfection of this purchase to Husband every day for a month. "Wasn't that jacket a good deal?" "This is such a good jacket for this climate, he can wear it in 3 seasons." "It's a good size, he'll wear it for two or even three years". While Husband did not necessarily share my zealous enthusiasm over this purchase, he did approve of having at least one jacket in the house with an operational zipper.

You probably think that I said these things to Husband only for a month because then I got distracted by a new purchase to brag about or, say, by something shiny. No.

For the next months I was saying things like "I can't believe the zipper went on that jacket too!" "Columbia is such a good name??" "Don't you think a better quality jacket would have a better quality zipper?" "What do you think he does to his zippers that make them all go?"

Fortunately, we survived the next few months with no jacket due to nice weather, or at least non rainy weather and we salvaged one other hoody jacket by repairing the zipper (which was of great use to us the days it wasn't sitting in the lost and found). The new Columbia jacket could be pressed into service on rainy days since we jerry-rigged the zipper so it would go up and down but just not undo at the bottom. So he would step into his jacket like a hula hoop put it on and zip it up.

Then the really nice weather came and I was chasing Jackson with bottle of sunscreen in the mornings and looking for hats not worrying about zippers.

About a week ago, the weather took a turn and the Columbia rain jacket was completely nonfunctional unless you want to use it as a doormat, dish rag or possibly a kite. So I did what had been suggested to me during laments to other Moms and went to a tailor to get the zipper replaced. The cost: $32.50. The jacket purchased on sale was $29.99 plus taxes, coming in at just over $32.

So I decided to buy the J Boy another jacket instead of just buying a zipper. I hoped I could find one with Velcro closing, or magnets. But I discovered those jackets are usually meant for the under 4 set that cannot manage zippers and have firetrucks, Diego or zoo animals and I am not prepared to subject Jackson to grade 3 ridicule just to make my life getting him out the door a little easier.

After a quadrant search of the mall I ended up at the kids' jackets section at Sears where I had bought the Columbia jacket last February. I found the exact same one for $32.49 before taxes. I recoiled at this and sought out the sales clerk and asked about Sears's policy on defective goods. Though I did not have the bill with me, miraculously, I did have it at home. For some reason it's been sitting on our kitchen counter since I bought it and has been a constant taunt (well whenever I try to sort through the papers on the counter) of what I am supposed to do with yet another broken zippered jacket.

The sales clerk seemed optimistic that they would exchange it if it had been bought in the past 90 days. I couldn't actually remember the month I had acquired this, but thought it just might be 90 days.

When I got home, I realized I had bought the jacket in late February. I contemplated pleading my case to the powers that be at Sears and quote provincial legislation that required goods to be of "merchantable quality" and if a zipper goes on a boys jacket in size 8 so quickly it is obviously not "merchantable quality" and they should replace it. I have made this argument before. It's funny what results quoting the Sale of Good Act brings in these situations.

But for some reason, I was not up for the fight this week. As I lamented to myself (again) that Columbia really should have a better quality zipper, I notice "Columbia.com" on the tag in the jacket. On a lark I checked out the website and saw that they have a limited warranty and for the price of postage to Ontario they will replace the zipper gratis. It may take 8 weeks, so this needs to be done now to beat the falls cool rainy season (and I take back all the bad thoughts I had about Columbia).

Which is a problem with my aversion to getting to the post office.

Teenagers and Roots

Me: Wow, it sure is quiet in the back seat, are you guys sleeping?

S: Nah, we're just sitting here and being teenagers.

Me: What does it mean to be a teenager?

S: You know, not excited about anything.

Me: Oh

S: Not really talking about anything, not being a chatterbox.

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J: Mommy, why is your hair brown except at the ends it's white?

Me: That's not possible. We need to get your eyes checked.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Radio Shrink

I flipped on the radio with the kids in the car today and a radio shrink was on. I thought I'd listen just for a minute as the kids were busy tormenting each other in the back so I had no one with whom I could have an intelligent conversation.

The Radio Shrink was dealing with a caller who wanted to know if it was okay to let her 6 month old baby stay with her parents over night (yes, it is.)

J: What is this even about?

Me: People are calling in if they have a problem.

Caller: I'm having problem with my husband. He says I don't obey him.

J: Mommy, do you have any problems?

Me: No, my life is perfect.

Caller: We are disagreeing on where to go on holidays.

J: But have you ever had a problem?

Me: Sure.

Shrink: Women run things in the home.

J: Have you ever called that lady with your problem?

Me: No, if I have a problem, Daddy and I talk about it.

Shrink: If the man wants new curtains they won't happen until the woman wants them.

J: What if Daddy is the problem?

Me: Well then it's most important to talk to Daddy about it. Just like if you have a problem with me or I have a problem with you, we should talk. It's best to talk to the person with whom you have the problem.

Shrink: Your husband probably thinks you make all the decisions in the house.

J: But that lady is having a disagreement about where to go on holidays and she isnt' talking to her husband about it.

Me: Well, she is calling a Dr. who is helping her with her problem. I don't think I would ever call a Dr. on the radio if ever I had any problems [I blog instead].

Caller: You're right. My husband thinks I make all the decisions. So you're saying I should obey him?

CLICK.

That was about 5 minutes too late.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The Hows and Whys

Our endlessly curious 7 year old, Jackson, is enamoured with the hows and whys of the world around him. He must ask why or how and understand the response 1.7 giga-jillion times a week. With our committment to listening to our kids, you can understand just how big a deal this is.

He wants to know how stuff works, why stuff is where it is. "how do they know what the weather will be?" "why does the garbage get picked up on Thursdays?" "why is that sign right there and not closer to the store?"

But it doesn't end there. He wants to know who people are, why I'm walking around carring a spatula in my hand and where I got the spatula. He wants to know who I'm talking to on the phone to and why. He wants to know why Sydney is in trouble (in the rare event that he is not implicated in the trouble, that is). He's our family's own Mrs. Kravitz: a busybody.

Not surprisingly this leads to many questions when it comes to the rules of life. Ages ago I blogged on Conventional Parenting Wisdom and my meager efforts to simply the rules. I think whatever success I ever had, has been completely forgotten is episodes such as this:

"Jackson, don't bodyslam into the patio window" I say as he lauches himself there from the mini-trampoline. I'm not sure if I'm more worried about the window, his dental status, his cranium or his becoming as a mosquito to a windshield.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get hurt."

Window slamming continues.

"Jackson, don't jump onto the window, I don't want you to get hurt!!"

He hears "don't ... get hurt".

"I'm not getting hurt."

"Well you might get hurt. Just because you didn't hurt yourself the first time, doesn't mean you won't the tenth."

Bounce, bounce, bounce, SLAM.

"Jackson, if you break that window it's 100 years of your allowance. At least. Don't slam, you might might break the window!!!!"

He hears "don't .... break the window!"

"I'm not breaking the window."

And so it goes. You can see why I need my hair coloured so often and why I never seem to get the laundry done around here.

On the weekend on my watch, the kids went into Husband's shop and started "fixing" their toys. When Husband returned from his weekly trip to the home improvement store, I had thought that they were in the kitchen or outside as I could hear their voices. It turns out they were downstairs. They each dragged a chair and they were standing on them in front of the bench, hardly believing of the good fortune of Mommy being on the computer for so long.
"Umm, guys, shops are for grown ups", I said in a high pitched voice, pretending to be calm.

"Mommy, we've been here for an hour" Jackson responded. If he's ever done something once, he takes that as tacit approval to do it into eternity.

"Mommy, only the hammers are dangerous and we're not touching the hammers." Sydney responded.

"Shops are for grownups." I said with finality that I hoped they would not read as resignation.

So imagine my perturb-ment when today they ventured into MY side of the shop. I store treasures and importantly hide gifts. They crawled in and around and even found a few stashed gifts that I had entirely missed over some such holiday.

I started to rant about disrespect and privacy, and could see myself getting a little worked up, so instead I regrouped and posted this sign on the door, which amused Jackson:

I trust that is clear enough even for the future lawyers in the family.

Ears Wide Open

One of the things Husband and I have tried to do with our kids is listen. With ears wide open. Frankly some days that was all we had. I think it's the most consistent thing that we have done.

We've listened to their recaps of some inane TV show they shouldn't be watching over dinner. We've heard 17 versions of the same joke from each of them on the same car trip to the mall. We've heard a scene by scene recap of Inspector Gadget 2. Twice. In a row. After bedtime. Every once in a while we'll get a nugget, something we need to pay attention to: "I don't really have any friends."

We figured if our kids felt they were listened to that would give them a sense of self worth. They are important to us and what they say is important. As they grow older, talking to us becomes more and more important as we navigate waters I don't even want to think about. Plus we might learn a thing or two on where their adorable little heads are at.

Today while touring Walmart my ears were particularly keenly tuned to Sydney (the Girlie Goo, previously known as S).

First thing I heard was her taking phone calls from her best friend V. "Well, I'll check my schedule, but I don't think I'm free today". She looks at me, covers her hand-phone and whispers "V wants me to come to a pool party today but I'm busy".

She took another call from V as they tried to sync their schedules and then an email from her brother who is making movies with Lego at a camp this week. Jackson (a.k.a. J Boy) wants to read her a story later after his camp.

Then as we walked we had this conversation:

S: I'm very famous Mommy.

Me: Really?? What are you famous for?

S: I give advice. People write to me and I give advice. They write "Dear Mrs. Sydney".

Me: What kind of advice do you give?

S: Well I just started yesterday at this job, but the first advice I gave was about a girl who's boyfriend wouldn't kiss her and she wants to break up with him if he won't kiss her.

Me: [stifling alarms bells and queasy feeling in stomach] What advice did you give?

S: I told her to ask her boyfriend why he won't kiss her.

Me: Why do you think the boyfriend wasn't kissing her?

S: I think he had a sore lip and it would have hurt to kiss her.

Me: [speechless]

S: The advice I gave today was to a boy who wanted to know why he didn't have a girlfriend.

Me: What did you tell him?

S: I told him he had to be handsome and then the girls would like him.

Me: How would he do that?

S: Do his hair handsome, with gel -- making it stick up. And wear a tie and handsome clothes.

Me: Oh.

S: I'm also famous because I write Hannah Montana's songs.

Me: You do?

S: Well I give them the ideas for the songs. Another man writes the songs.

Me: You must be very busy.

S: Well I used to do the Hannah Montana songs for a job. When I was a baby. Right after I came out of your tummy and slept in a crib. Now I work for my boss giving advice.

Me: You must be very famous.

S: Yes, people do things for me. They get me drinks, clean my room. But I don't get mad at them if they don't do what I want like some famous people do. If they're sick I can do those things for myself.

Me: Do you think those people would do nice things for me too? Since I'm your Mommy?

S: Of course!

Me: Do you think ...

S: Just a minute Mommy, my boss is calling, I need to take this call.

Friday, July 3, 2009

The Gift of Time

With the summer starting off so well, you are probably wondering what I am doing with my time since I am not cobbling together activities to ward off boredness. On top of blogging and booking our trip to Disneyland, here's what I have been up to:

1. I put in place a "kids bring your dishes to the counter after you eat" rule. Husband or I steadfastly repeated this every meal at least 8 times to each kid. We did so calmly as we know the reason the kids are allergic to chores is because we have been doing everything for far too long. It has been an unqualified success so far. I've been keeping stats and when Husband or I have asked them 10 or less times in the space of 30 minutes, we have a 10% success rate.

2. I started a major reorganizational project. We have a full bookshelf in the basement of craft supplies. While I am the uncrafty mother on the block, we have a lot of supplies due to our Nanny's crafting tendancies and some surplus supplies from church and VBS. I decided that I would organize and purge and try to narrow down our supplies to what will fit in the craft cart in the den upstairs. Then we might actually use some of it up. One subproject was the Great Marker Sort. While the kids were playing outside with sidewalk chalk, I brought a shoebox full of markers and figured out which ones were still working and sorted them into type. I discovered we have quite a few more than I thought and also more types of markers than I thought possible (changeables, gel markers, stampers, Color Wonder). One tiny downside to this project came up. The kids, now that they know where to find the markers, are actually using them. This is what my kitchen table looks like:

3.I started trying to find a dance class for S in September. I know, I know. The ink is barely dry on the summer schedule and I'm sorting out fall?? But the dance places have started taking registrations. In addition to sifting through just which of the dance places are too serious (professional as they would call it), I have to find one that has classes at at time that will work with our increasingly finely scheduled week. And I didn't want ballet but something with fast music, likely jazz or hip hop. We are fortunate to have a half dozen dance schools in a close drive so I did not really think this would be a problem.

Well it was a problem to find the schedules. Despite the fact that a monkey or any child finished grade 4 could load a document to a website, when I went to look online for schedules I either found "schedule coming soon", "here is our 2006-07 schedule" or no mention of it at all. So I had to phone or email for schedules. Obviously the people who are responsible for the website updates are also responsible for answering phones and responding to emails. There were a couple I had to hunt down like dogs. One I gave up on as I figured if they were so inept at getting people the most basic information they wouldn't be in business for long.

I finally found one I thought would work and told S the good news. She told me she didn't want to take dance. Unless it was with her best friend V. I haven't come to the end of this project. I'm a little demoralized by the wasted tim. I don't think it will work out with V but S also consented to taking a hip hop class with her brother, which I can get them into on Mondays, my preferred day.

4. Probably the most satisfying thing I did was sort movie clips on the computer. We don't have a video camera, but I am the high priestess of taking short (15 to 60 second) movies with our digital camera in an attempt to document our lives. While I upload my camera frequently (I need the instant gratification of seeing photos on computer screen) and I sort them chronologically, I needed to sort through the last 18 months worth of movie clips to their appropriate spot in the MOVIE folder . And cull them for the duds: either the 1 second clips when I was trying to take a picture and forgot it was on movie setting, or the ones where I look too fat (in the rare event that I am actually in one).

I loved reliving the past 18 months and even some older ones as I sought to put the misfiled ones in the right spot. Here is one that provides hard proof of my parental neglect putting keeping the camera going over my daughters health (no Girlie Goos were hurt in the filming of this piece):

video

And here is the first one I ever took in 2004 (J was 2.5, S was 9 mos). I don't know how, but I used to understand ever word the J Boy said:
video

I forgot how little they both used to be. Sigh.

What a Difference a Year Makes

As the sun sets on week 1 of summer, I can exhale.

Last summer, week 1 was a bloody nightmare challenging week. In fact, I didn't blog for 2 FULL WEEKS as the J Boy and I tried to gain our equilibrium. It was the hardest week of the summer (though it had some stiff competition) and frankly started us off on the wrong foot.

This year, June was not a spectacular month for J (but notably May was a superb month) and so I admit I was a little apprehensive about getting our summer on track. With school winding down, the J Boy had extra excitement and less mental busyness which is a recipe for disaster. More than once in the last week or so of school I said to Husband "we just have to get him to June 25", thinking once school was out, all would be better. Husband replied "do you remember last summer???", more than implying that no relief would come with the school closing its doors

The first day is sometimes the hardest, especially when it's a Mommy day. You may recall the last full day I had with both kids, no school. It challenged me to my core, so my expectations were low: no outburst lasting more than 5 minutes, no punches thrown and importantly no sarcastic Mommy voice. The first day met all those expectations and more. I can say it was an unqualified very very good day. Pinch me!

The weekend that followed ranked as 'best weekend we've had in June in 4 years'. The kids were good, even uncharacteristically mellow. We enjoyed our end of school family celebration with one small exception: the J Boy did have a bit of a hissy fit over a gift. I went to great lengths to find them appropriate books that were equivalent. I found them each a book with a lock (think diary) that had stories inside. How was I to know that S's Spy Stories had sound effects when the Creepy Stories we gifted to J didn't?

Monday brought the week's activity: bike camp. J was very keen and even more keen to find out he would be riding on ramps on day 2! S was a little apprehensive to go, but found her bike legs quickly. Each afternoon, they were tired and low key. By evening they were ready for something and Husband gamely took them on evening adventures (how I love that man!)

Monday night I said something to Husband that he has been waiting to hear for a long, long time:

"J had a perfect day".

I give J a great deal of credit. He has matured over the last year. He is able to take some punches here and there and not fall to the mat. He is somewhat open to reason and even manipulation.

I'll also take a little credit. I spent 1.2 gigahours planning their summer (many when I should have been sleeping) and maybe I got a few things right, including starting the summer off with a lot of physical activity (i.e. bike camp). I still have some chill, as I resolved to maintain a few weeks ago, and that didn't hurt.

Week 2, here's to more fun, more family time and more chill.