20 blog posts, 20 comments, one day

Today I saw a post by Ali Martell about her longing for the days when blogging was just about writing, reading and sharing and maybe a little less about optimizing and taking pitches and all the rest. In it she pledges to read and comment on 20 blog posts each day and comment on them. Every day.

I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up but I gave Project 20 a go today and found it very enriching. What I learned: There's so much great writing out there and I'm only just beginning to scratch the surface.

Thanks to everyone who shared a link to their blog post. My aim here was to comment in all kinds of places and particularly on blogs where it would be appreciated. I adore getting comments on my little blog, and I hope it brought just a smidge of good feeling to some writers today to see my words below their posts.

It's definitely work to try to fit in that much reading and commenting, though not impossible. I edited fewer stories today because of this undertaking, but I enjoyed it immensely.

It's 10:15 and I'm just finishing up. Here are the links to the 20 blog posts I read and commented on today:

Cheaper than therapy - Project 20

Z recommends - An open letter to the Girl Scouts of the USA

Have Baby Will Travel - Character dining with toddler

A Mother World - J. Crew Ad: Painting sons toes pink a big deal?

Active Kids Club - All-day kindergarten: A child's perspective

Bit of Mom Sense - Healthy snacks and overcoming unhealthy marketing messages

Little Miss Mocha - Thinly veiled discrimination

After the Artist's Way - Clearly, I'm not French

The Tree Hugger - Weekday vegetarian: Artichoke, kale and ricotta pie

Yummy Mummy Club - Nick of Time: Should kids sell cookies for fundraisers?

The Kids Are Alright - Once upon a time I wrote about food

Neighbourhood Sprawl - That's a good joe

Through the Looking Glass - 52 in '11: I'd Know You Anywhere by Laura Lippman

Yummy Mummy Club - Julie Cole, The Baby Machine: Online is public domain

Life with Bellymonster: Lost and found, dreams of a daughter

A peek inside the fish bowl: This is what marketing to moms looks like today

Print to Pixels: 18 again

The Boot Camp Blog: Anouncing my diet book

Lovely Bicycle: Female anatomy and saddle discomfort

Enviro Dad: An Earth Day call to action

Hmmmm. Looking over the list I can see that I commented almost entirely (Hi Eric!) on blogs written by women. If I do another post like this anytime soon, I'll make sure to be mindful of that in my reading and try to even it out.

The whole pot of tea

I've made a promise to myself. At least once a week, I'll brew a whole pot of tea. And I'll drink it while it's still warm.

It's an incredibly mundane resolution, but it represents so much more than just the caffeine indulgence.

Monday to Friday I make single cups of tea, puttering around before leaving the house for work, juggling loads of laundry and breakfast requests. Sometimes I boil the kettle several times before actually remembering to pour it over the tea bag in one of my favourite blue mugs. Just as often, it gets cold while I make "eggy sandwiches" or oatmeal.

At the office, I buy a second cup of tea at the little tuck shop on the first floor of the Toronto Star building. I usually only manage to drink half or two-thirds of it before it gets cold.

But my new aim is to slow down long enough to (almost) single task as I drink a few cups of tea. For the last two weekends, I've headed to my home's enclosed porch to drink my pot of tea while reading an actual book or newspaper. Not on my laptop. Not on my iPhone. Instead, on my bottom under a blanket (while the mornings are still cool), for the duration of approximately three cups.

As parents, the idea of a few moments to read and sip a favourite hot drink can seem so elusive. Granted, it's easier for me to accomplish this than it is for some. I no longer have a baby who needs to be breastfed every few minutes. Because I share custody of my kids with the boys' great dad, I have a some structured time in my week when I'm not with them (painful at first, but something I've come to appreciate for its silver lining).

However, I maintain that it IS possible for anyone to slow down long enough for a pot of tea or a second cup of coffee. Maybe you'll still have munchkins running around. Maybe you don't have a partner with whom to trade off, or perhaps you're just so in the thick of baby care or early-morning hockey practices it doesn't seem realistic. But all of us can make a choice to indulge in something small and virtually free. If you're on your own with tiny children, maybe you'll have to get some help from the Backyardigans while you sip and read (or have a hot bath or whatever would feel good for you).

What strikes me, though, is the number of people who do share parenting with a partner, but who don't seem to be able to break away for the shortest amount of time. There's a complex matrix here of attachment, guilt, control and inertia. We don't think we can slow down so we don't. But we're actually just making choices to keep doing things the way we always have. And we can make a different choice to grab a little time for ourselves.

Sometimes it appears as though spending every second engaged with the family or our household chores is the noble thing to do. It's hard to get away from that to-do list and the urgent demands of a little one seeking someone to be Mater to his Lightning McQueen. Perhaps it would help to think of the time we carve out for ourselves as insurance against losing it on our kids when we're frustrating and can't bear to listen to another squabble or colicy cry. Because there is absolutely a cause-and-effect relationship between utter lack of personal time and our patience and tolerance.

So let's do this together. What would recharge you just a little? How can you make it happen?

 

Using the good

I realized, with a bit of surprise the other day, that I have a problem with "using the good."

Since I like to serve my 3-year-old yogurt parfaits in my good martini glasses (which, incidentally, turns out to be a good way to get rid of one's fancy martini glasses) I thought I was a veritable poster girl for "using the good." For seizing the day, at least as far as cloth napkins and good china are concerned.

I keep my grandmother's tea service on a tray on the counter. But, admittedly, it's not used as often as I intended when I put it there.

The thing that made me realize I'd been hoarding at least some of the good instead of using it, was a humble bar of soap.

See, people give me these gorgeous soaps for birthdays and special occasions. And instead of tucking into them next time I head to the bath, I spend a year or two admiring their packaging, which I lovingly display on my bathroom vanity or in little lined baskets.

What the heck for? I realized. Is there really going to be an occasion some time in the future where I will need to be better moisturized when I come out of the shower? Why save little luxury items instead of just enjoying them and using them up? It'll bring a little sensory pleasure to the day and cut down on clutter.

I'm not sure what exactly this has to do with parenting, which is the focus of this blog. But I do know that if it's important to me to teach my boys to value a candle-lit dinner and make ordinary experiences more delightful, I better live that way myself!

So moms (and dads): Could you dig out some bath salts (single-malt scotch) and use a little of the good after the kids are in bed tonight?

 

Time crunched. What are you going to do about it?

Earlier this week I shared that I'd hit a bit of a parenting wall. Experiencing the "giving fatigue" that so many of us face, I was feeling tired and in need of a little immediate gratification to balance all the one-way street work of raising a family.

As a newly-single parent, some of this stems from not having another adult with whom to share the day. But some of it is just middle-of-the-road parental burn-out.

It was interesting timing given that the very next day The Canadian Index of Wellbeing released findings that 20 per cent of Canadians experience a high level of what they call "time crunch" compared to just 16 per cent in1992. The effects of this time poverty are particularly acute for women, the study found, with 23 per cent of women feeling time pressure compared to 17 per cent of men.

I've got a lot more to say about the causes of our clock-based angst, and will share more on this later. But I hope that, if nothing else, readers took away from the survey results some comfort that they're not alone. There is no failure on your part to weave time-management magic out of your Filofax or Google calendar. There simply aren't enough hours in the day. The only answer is to make choices. Sometimes you can get to all your kids' many extra-curricular activities or all of your PTA meetings. Sometimes you've got to play hooky and lock yourself in the bathroom with a cup of tea (or possibly something stronger).

So on Monday I vowed that I'd do something restorative each day this week. Here's how it's gone so far.

Monday I left the office on time, made something quick for the kids to eat for dinner and practised a bit of benign neglect as they worked out their Lego squabbles on their own (this despite hearing things like "Listen up, cry-eypants," coming from the basement). Later I handed off the kids and found solace with two close friends over a sushi roll and cocktail. Just having someone else make me some dinner lifted me out of a pretty deep funk.

Tuesday I took a walk at lunchtime, failed to get my kids' birthday party invitations because I got distracted by pretty things at the mall and went to BootyCampFitness.

Wednesday I asked my co-parent for an extra day of childcare and hit a movie screening and a media party. Even danced a bit and got a henna tattoo. Silly huh? My kids were kind of impressed.

Thursday. I guess that's today. Well, after work, I'll be getting acupuncture for my chronic shoulder knots (sound familiar?) and then, after dinner with the kids, head to bootcamp again.

I'm grateful that I have someone else to share the load, even if he's not really mine anymore. I know not everyone else has that, certainly not most single mothers. Whatever your circumstances, I hope you can do something to treat yourself well this week, too. Sometimes it just starts with an internal cry of "uncle!" for us to make the psychic leap that things are too much.

It's no admission of defeat. Instead, it's a springboard to a happier existence. And that can only mean happier kids.

The Water is Wide

I know things aren't going well when I start singing Irish ballads. There's nothing about "The Water is Wide" or "Danny Boy" that's particularly spirit lifting.

No, these songs are for mournfully staring across expanses of ocean or their metaphorical equivalent.

But while I try to use this blog not just to inform on parenting issues but to celebrate the efforts we make and encourage others to raise a glass in their own honour, I haven't been doing that myself. Or maybe I've celebrated other people at the expense of my own sleep and sanity. Or listened to the stories of others before listening to myself. Or just plain old taken on too much, like so many busy parents do.

At the risk of absolutely beating the H2O metaphor to death, my well is low. Really low.

If it was any of my friends making this confession, I'd organize some sort of pedicure intervention or night about town. But as is the habit of so many caregivers, we listen to ourselves last. Ignore our own signals and trudge on with the busy work.

So this is me solemnly swearing to do something restorative for myself each day this week. Starting with leaving the office on time today.

I hope you can do the same.

A Mother's Day Cocktail Party

How are things looking for your Mother's Day?

Will you be sleeping in, eating a leisurely brunch and getting a pedicure? Or reading an entire novel while sipping coffee in your favourite chair?

Didn't think so.

You probably have a busy schedule this weekend and at least some of it may involve celebrating your own mom, step-mom, grandmother or mother-in-law. Whether you're putting miles on the car or just wearing out the floor boards in your kitchen, my guess is that the day might not be all about you.

As some may have read before, I host a party for my friends around each Mother's Day. You can see a photo gallery of one of these here.

The party in the gallery looks pretty fancy, but in the last two years, I've changed this event to a low-key Thursday night cocktail gathering in advance of the big day. Food prep is minimal: I put out crudites and hummus, olives, good cheeses and crackers, and serve hot appetizers baked straight out of the freezer (thank you, Mr. President). Friends bring pretty desserts.

The focus is on the cocktails and conversation, and everyone looks forward to dressing up a little and sneaking out after bedtime for a bit of grown-up fun.

Here are a few pictures from this year's event (all photos by Kelly Smyth).

 

Raising a glass with me (left), Tanya Davies, Erin Billowits and Fabienne Moureaux.

It gets crazy if you give guests too many drink options. In addition to non-alcoholic offerings, we made two cocktails, Kir Royales and Sidecars.

Lego picked up? Check. Lights dimmed to hide grubby slipcovers? Check. Tulips purchased for $10 on way home? Check.

With me here from left, Lisa Murphy, honourary mom and expert lemon squeezer Jennifer Wilson-Speedy, and Kira Vermond.

Irene Tashiro (left) and Juli Belliveau.

Sarah Noonan (left) and Tanya Davies.

It doesn't matter what you serve or what your house looks like (candlelight does wonders, though!). The key is to the gather the people you want to see and share a few spirit-lifting laughs.

So go on! There's still time between now and Mother's Day, or even in the week or two after, to do something that's just for you and your people. Budget-friendly options could include chick flicks and ice cream, a pot luck, or a wine tasting where everyone brings a bottle. You don't even have to host: A night out at the movies, the neighbourhood pub or a restaurant would be quite a treat as well.

Happy Mother's Day!

More inspiration:

More Mother's Day coverage

Mother's Day photo gallery

Recipe finder

Yummy Mummy Club

The perfect family vacation?

Please accept my apologies for getting behind on this blog. And for the somewhat misleading title of this post.

I haven't just returned from the perfect family vacation (though I did do some reconnaissance on family-friendly resorts, which I'll share with you soon). However, I do have some thoughts on what would be the perfect vacation for both recuperation and family time.

My mom and I have been on our first mother-daughter holiday to Turks and Caicos. Not since her Switzerland wedding to my step-father, Roy, have Mom and I been away together, and of course that was with other family members. Occasionally we'll snag a night in a hotel when she's coming through town on business, and when I was in university I'd sometimes steal away to Montreal or New York to join her. But during most of my adult life, we've lived across the country from each other and most of our time together has occurred in her city or mine, where jobs, children and household responsibilities have competed with our quality time.

This week of walking the beach and reading novels side-by-side on lounge chairs provided us both with a great opportunity to rest and enjoy each others' company. We'd stumble upon conversations about our family history. The way her mother used to make butter each week using an apparatus that fit into the washing machine in place of the agitator. The tuberculosis status that led my great-great-uncle to establish one branch of our Irish family in Australia instead of Canada. The great-grandfather who went back to Ireland for a wife and brought one back for his brother as well.

Just as importantly, we got a chance to share and reflect on the things currently going on in our lives, hopes for the future, and the seasons of content and discontent that are part of the normal ebb and flow of life. It was the kind of trip we'll always remember.

I've never been away from the kids for more than a few days, and I think the rest I got on this trip has recharged me in a way that will help me keep my cool and be in-the-moment with with them.

But I'll admit that I did have pangs - particularly toward the end - when I saw families playing on the beach together. In my dream world, I'd spend five adult-only days in a warm destination before having Cameron and Alister magically airlifted to my side for a few days of sandcastles. By then I'd have had read a couple of novels and enjoyed a few umbrella drinks, making me entirely ready to ferry buckets of water from ocean to moat, slather crinkled-up faces with sunscreen and coax decent restaurant behaviour from my toddler.

One can dream, right?

Meanwhile, if you're yearning for a family getaway, check out our last-minute travel article. If you're attempting the drive to Florida (brave you!), here are 10 tips to get you to the amusement parks alive. And if it's some adult-time you need, here's how to plan some March break fun for moms.

Find everything else you need to know about March break camps, stuff to do at home, unexpected family destinations and more in our March break section.

An experiment in pack parenting

Last night was an exciting one at our house. That's because our dear friends, the Smyths, moved in with us.

The main floor of Kelly and Colin's house is being renovated for a reality TV show (I don't believe I'm allowed to say which one just yet!), and that meant their family of five - including Ella, 6, Nolan, 4, and Carson, 2, plus golden retriever puppy, Marlowe - needed to be out of the space.

I have a small one-bedroom suite in my basement, bunk beds in Cameron's room and an extra cot, so we're all squeezing in for one epic playdate/sleepover.

Kelly and I met at a Fitmom prenatal yoga class when we were both expecting our first babies. And, along with our other dearest mommy friend, Lori, and her family, we've been sharing childcare, dinners, martinis, tea, sympathy and life's ups and downs. In short, our kids are growing up together, and so are we.

Here's a photo of the gang (the boys on the ends are Lori's Jake, (left) and Davis, who are not staying with us, but this gives you the idea anyway):

We're comfortable telling either others' two-year-old's to "get down from there." We know who likes their spaghetti with sauce and who likes it with just Parmesan cheese. It's not uncommon for us to have a pack of kids in pajamas watching a movie while we try to sip a little wine and eat some dinner while it's still hot warm.

This period is interesting to me in a couple of ways:

First, it's an experiment in what I like to call "pack parenting." (Maybe the phrase that will come to mind for you is that old cliché we use but don't really live: "It takes a village.") In pack parenting, whatever moms or dads are around work together to give everyone attention and move all the kids through routines of meals, outings, bedtime, whatever, invoking an "Everyone behind the yellow line!/Everyone clear their plate!/Everyone brush their teeth!" kind of group think. Any parent who has struggled through the "arsenic hour" feeling depleted and outnumbered knows how much easier that it is when there's another adult around. So these three-weeks-and-a-bit will be, I think, both chaotic and supportive.

Secondly, much of the world lives this way. The nuclear family is really a very modern idea. It's quite a western luxury to have four walls and a roof for just us. And as a person who lives many time zones away from extended family, I've often thought that perhaps multi-generational households have it right, with more people on hand to stir the soup, read a story or supervise bath.

Already there have been some memorable moments! While Kelly and Colin were schlepping things over from their place last night, I was supervising dinner. Everyone got along famously but there was a wee tussle over a stool between the two-year-olds. I caught one child by the footie pajama'd ankles just inches from doing a head plant, but entirely unfazed and still chewing a meatball. The puppy arrived later in the evening and skidded around the hardwood sniffing things and ecstatically wagging her tail before finding some blackboard chalk to chew. And this morning Carson "helped" me mix the orange juice, adding a little soapy dishwater for good measure when I turned my head to make the smoothie.

I'm sure I'll be chronicling a lot of this here and on Twitter, but meanwhile, there are some other things you'll probably want to check out today:

Humour columnist Vinay Menon's take on the CBC documentary Hyper Parent and Coddled Kids, which airs tonight at 9 p.m.

Kris Rushowy's fascinating story on innovative programs that use exercise to help at-risk children pay attention and stay on their best behaviour.

Ann Douglas's thought-provoking take on iPhone Apps for parents and kids.

Susan Delacourt's exclusive interview about daycare with former Prime Minister Paul Martin.

Trish Crawford's interesting article on the link between preschool aggression and bullying, plus the bullying victims who have launched a website to help bullied youth.

What NOT to do when your friend is going through a separation or divorce

When someone in your circle is going through a separation or divorce, it's not always clear how to help or what to say. Here are some "dos" and "don'ts" to make that a little easier.

DON'T act like you know what your friend needs. You don't want to foist a night of dancing on someone who just wants to disappear for a while, and nor should you assume your friend wants to be left alone.

DO ask how best you can help. Everyone who goes through a major life event like the loss of a marriage is going to experience it differently. Your friend may want distraction or quiet walks in the woods or a pair of boxing gloves or a van to carry stuff to goodwill.

DON'T ask "Was it mutual?" or "What happened?!" If you don't already know, you're not close enough to ask. Besides there are no tidy talking points to cover this raw, nuanced territory.

DO make yourself available to chat about the separation if your friend seems to want to share.

DON'T presume you're helping by offering a playdate. Your friend may not want to be without his or her children and may already be missing them when they're in the care of the other parent. Or it could be that by taking the child who is old enough for playdates, you're removing a playmate for the younger, higher-needs child, and a source of conversation and happy interaction for your friend.

DO ask what kind of childcare is really needed, and be open to having siblings over, too. Or ask if you can time a playdate with a younger child's nap.

DON'T assume your friend will feel awkward in a room full of couples. Couples are the world your friend knows, and being suddenly locked out of the circle is very hurtful. He or she is likely grappling with a staggering loss of social status and you contribute to the isolation of single parents when you don't extend the invitation.

DO make your friend welcome, but not obligated, to bring another person of either sex to the party or outing.

DON'T assume a single-parent can't get or afford a babysitter. Your friend may have off-duty nights when the other parent is looking after the children. And in fact, it's possible he or she out-earns you. Not every divorced parent is financially strapped. Maybe your pal has wildly under-spent on entertainment and eating out since finding himself at loose ends!

DO make sure you give your friend the opportunity to decline rather than assume he or she won't want to participate or be able to make it happen. Even if she can't come the first time, be sure to keep asking. Maybe next time that teenaged neighbour or kind aunt will be available.

DON'T waffle on an invitation. When your friend invites you to do something, don't leave them hanging and waiting to see if you get a better offer. Likely she's learning to set things up in advance to avoid loneliness and keep things fun for the kids. And you don't want your friend to feel like the person you call only when your spouse is out of town.

DO what you can to clear your schedule when your friend musters the courage to ask friends to help him or her blow off steam or tackle an emotional closet clean-out. 

DON'T gossip. There isn't anybody that's going to help, or anyone that's going to entertain for more than a minute.

DO be humble. Your friend never dreamed he or she would be in such a position, and you may find yourself there one day, too.

Parenting tip of the day: Partnership parenting

How do you build a true parenting partnership where there's a balance of decision-making and only a modest amount of resentment over who's been taking the brunt of bedtime or unpacking the dishwasher?

Authors Kyle Pruett and Marsha Kline Prett explore that territory in Partnership Parenting (September 2009): How Men and Women Parent Differently - and Why it Helps Your Kids and Can Strengthen Your Marriage.

The husband and wife team - he a child psychiatrist and she a psychologist and professor of social work - emphasize the importance of investing in the couple relationship.

We've all heard before that nag about setting aside time for date night, sending sweet little emails, etc. It's a lot easier to say than do. With budgets tight and extra-curricular schedules demanding, it's hard to cobble together the time or babysitter money. I'm the last to suggest any of that is easy.

But this little tidbit struck me as something anyone could try:

"Banish talk about logistics for an evening."

Hmm. A whole evening without "Oh, you need to pick the kids up at daycare tomorrow," or "Did you talk to your mother about Christmas?" 

That sounds do-able. And kind of nice.