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?

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

We're having ourselves a little St. Patrick's Day gathering tonight. Green milkshakes for the kids, some Guinness for the grownups, and a bit of an old-school menu of mashed potatoes, buttery pan-fried whitefish, carrots and peas. One neighbour is bringing a roasted chicken and another some some sort of Ireland-inspired dessert. If I get home in time, I'll make soda bread (which is really easy - check out the soda bread recipes we have on thestar.com today).

Despite the Norwegian surname, I really am Irish. On my mother's side. And today I'm wearing my vintage Shamrock pin, a gift from my granddad, whom I adored and who - while born in Canada - was very proud of his Irish heritage.

There are quite a few green shirts around the office today, which is nice to see. My theory is that anybody who wants to be can be Irish on St. Patrick's Day. Nothing would make me happier than to see my Pakistani friend wearing green today (he drives a cab, between interviews for jobs where he'd actually get to put his MBA to use). In fact, maybe I should give Amir a call.

What could be more Canadian, really, than to order some sushi or a pizza to go with your St. Paddy's Day beer tonight? And when you've got kids, isn't any occasion a reason to celebrate?

Here's our St. Patrick's Day guide.

And if you're looking for March break ideas to take you through the rest of the week, find some inspiration on our March break guide.

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.

Cute kid quote of the day

Cameron, upon learning that the Christmas money from his Grandpa is actually for his RESP:

"What?! I don't want to waste a whole hundred dollars on my university!"

An honest Christmas letter

I'm a bad person.

Well, maybe not officially. I donate to charities and treat my friends lovingly and adore my family. But when it comes to writing Christmas cards featuring pictures of my kids on Santa's lap (or at least in coordinating sweater vests), I'm an abysmal failure. If I can remember to get some new camera batteries today or tomorrow, I may still achieve a late-breaking email Christmas card, but between you and me, the odds on that are about 20 to 1.

So when I go to the mailbox these days, it's with a mixture of delight and guilt. I love that some of my friends and family have it together to design and print fun Christmas cards - my favourite bears pictures of a whole family making funny faces.

But my personal experience is that as life has gotten busier with more children and more Christmas concerts and some of life's terrifically poorly-timed complications, I've had to pick a few things to do well (this year we baked hundreds of cookies) and let some of the other slide.

Yet it seems there are always one or two families we know who manage to do it all, and if things aren't going wonderfully in all aspect my life, I find their newsletters make me feel a little inadequate. I hope everyone who hasn't given up on me for my poor Christmas-card record will keep sending me their newsletters, while also allowing me to have a little fun with them.

You know the newsletters I'm talking about, right? You took your kids to Disney World. They climbed the pyramids at Giza. You finally got your kids in swimming lessons at the same time. Theirs are flying through Suzuki violin. Your weekends were spent shuffling kids to playdates and birthday parties while just trying to acquire some groceries. They car-camped their way across Canada, or juggled cottage invitations and music festivals.

Their family activities inspire us to get a little busier making memories with our children and not to get so caught up in our to-do lists and responsibilities that we forget to design the family life that we want.

Nevertheless, just once I'd like to read a Christmas newsletter that starkly outlined somebody's really bad year. Because they happen to all of us, so why not share?

So here's my part-truth, part-fiction sample honest Christmas letter:

Dear treasured family and friends,

Hope this finds everyone well and looking forward to a happy holiday season.

It's hard to believe we've arrived again at the time of year when I sit down to pen this Christmas newsletter.

Actually, I've taken my laptop to bed with a giant box of Kleenex. Everyone in the house has had a cold since Labour Day.

The kids are well otherwise, though. While our eldest didn't quite learn to ride his bike this summer, we're sure his baby brother's overachieving performance on the tricycle, along with a dose of peer humiliation about his training wheels, should ensure he'll master the pedal brakes by 2011. Our big boy has also adjusted better to school and is no longer saying things like, "Maybe I'm just slow." We slept in on Parks and Rec tele-registration day so we've been a little light on extracurricular activities this fall.

Our toddler is still hooked on his pacifier and bottle and won't go near the potty, but we're hopeful to tackle these in time for him to start nursery school because man the nanny care is getting expensive. Happily,his all-white food palette has been expanded to include the occasional baby carrot and spinach-disguising fruit smoothie.

As for the extended family, my brother has disappeared into an oil patch since the death of our father a year ago. But we're able to glean a little about his life from the pictures of him partying with his friends that we see on Facebook. My sister has had a bit of a rough go, but this latest diagnosis should help and perhaps keep the rest of us from getting committed.

A little light has come into the life of at least one of us. My husband has finally stopped sleeping in the basement and has moved into a second-story apartment next door. Now that winter solstice has passed, the seasonal affective disorder should subside.

We're both enjoying our work. Well, as much as that's possible under the threat of lay-off.

Wherever you are this Christmas I hope this letter finds you well and looking forward, as I will, to new beginnings in 2010. Oh, and 2009? Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.

Merry Christmas!

Brandie and the boys

Easy wrapping paper you can make with your kids

Here's a lowish-effort holiday craft you can do with your kids while, at the same time, personalizing the gifts you give this year. (The phrase "killing two birds with one stone" comes to mind but just doesn't seem either appropriate to the festive season or humanitarian!)

With simple potato stamps, my boys and I turned some plain kraft paper into cheap, eco-friendly holiday gift wrap.

We started this project during a weekend playdate. As we were about to begin, Cameron's friend asked if I could make a stamp of Indiana Jones on a motorcycle. After I explained that my potato-carving skills were limited to Christmas tree and star, we were underway.

You've may have done this before and it's pretty self-explanatory, but just in case you're wondering, here's how.

1. Cut a potato in half lengthwise. Using a small paring knife or similar, score your design into the potato's flesh.

2. About 5 mm into the surface, begin to cut away the area outside of your design. Your shape should now protrude from the rest of the potato.

(I didn't think ahead and actually take a picture of what this looks like as one carves the potato, but here is what our stamps looked like when we were done. A blue star for Hanukkah would also be great.)

3. Spread kraft paper out on wipe-able flooring, using board books or other weights to prevent it from curling, and keep a wet cloth nearby. Tempera paint is pretty washable, but obviously it helps if kids are not wearing their best threads.

4. It works better and wastes less paint if you use a small brush to cover the surface of your stamp with paint. To share the activity, one person (perhaps a parent, if you're keen on mess containment) can use the paint brush and pass it to the other to do the actual stamping. This is the glory job your kid really wants anyway. You can get 2 or 3 stamps out of one use of the paint brush, particularly if you instruct your kids to press down firmly and then use their fingers to compress different sides of the potato.

It should turn out imperfect but charming, something like this.

5. Let it dry for an hour or so (just to be sure) and you're ready to wrap!

With a little ribbon and some inexpensive gift tags (mine were $2.50 for 16 from Canadian Tire), this low-end, homemade wrapping paper looks pretty good.

(When Cameron was a baby, I painted his foot using green paint and used it as a stamp. It made grandmas and aunties swoon.)

Since I'm on the gift wrap beat today, it seems, here's a story I wrote for yourhome.ca on how to store gift wrap while trying to keep it nearby for the next few stolen moments.