In reading through my posts, I found a common theme- Evan. I rarely just talk about Colin. It isn’t because he’s not as fun or he doesn’t give us anything to talk about. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Our stories about Colin are so hysterical, they’re just sometimes inappropriate to talk about. Things come out of his mouth and it’s not because he’s trying to be funny or shock people, he just doesn’t have that filter. It’s quite funny.

Evan, Colin and I walked down to the grocery store for Popsicles one Sunday and met up with all the kids on our street, so we invited them to join us. All told, our posse consisted of seven boys, one girl, and myself. It was as if this was the first girl Colin had seen. He stared at her for a long time.
“You got a bagina?” he asked this horrified 10-year-old girl. He wasn’t trying to be funny. Colin genuinely wanted to know.
“You’re crazy!” she said hoping no one heard his question.
He looked at me as if to say, “Well, does she?”

One other time we were grocery shopping and he was in the cart facing oncoming grocery shoppers. Yes, I know, that’s frowned upon. We came upon 2 teenage lovebirds who were buying chips, probably for a movie so they could make out (I’m so 1980).

As we approached them Colin yells,”Hey, you, I don’t like your girlfriend.”
In case any of you are not aware, that’s one of the latest Avril Lavigne songs. (I only know that because I’m a closet fan). Of course they laughed, and so did I. I did explain to Colin that he shouldn’t say such things. But I have to admit, I thought his timing was very clever.

And wouldn’t you know it, now that I’m trying to think of all the funny things he’s done and said, I can’t remember any more. I’ll have to jot them down for his wedding reception. I’ll definitely be telling the bagina story!

There is a point, and I don’t know exactly when it is, but kids change. Mine have gone from not caring what they wear and being excited that we have a computer, to refusing to wear the clothes I buy and complaining that our computer is too slow.

We were getting ready to catch the bus one morning when Evan looked very perplexed.
“What’s wrong, Evan?” I asked.
“I want to wear my new skater sneakers,” he replied.
“Then wear your new skater sneakers,” I answered.
“I can’t tie them, Mommy,” he replied back in a stern voice.
“Well, I’ll tie them loosely and you can slip them on and off without having to tie them. “ That solves that, I thought.
“But then I can’t run. They’ll fall off!” He was raising his voice at this point.
You’re lucky you have a choice of sneakers, is what I wanted to say, but instead I simply suggested that he wear his old Velcro sneakers. I’m such a great problem solver.
”That’s a great plan, Mommy, and my friends will all laugh at me,” Evan said on the verge of tears. I snickered at what he said and thought to myself, you can’t tie your laces but you know exactly how to use sarcasm.
“Well Evan, you have a decision to make. Wear the cool ones and not run, or wear the uncool ones and run.”

Apparently running trumps cool, for now.

So now I’m trying to teach this determined but frustrated child how to tie his shoes. Fortunately winters coming, so boots will buy us some time!

I want to thank everyone who is taking time out of their busy lives to read my blog. It has been getting a lot of hits, and lots of fun and touching comments. I have to admit though, as I read them, I’m feeling a bit like a fraud. Let me set the stage:

After 3 crazy days at school, I ran in the house expecting to find 3 boys (two sons and one husband) starved for attention.
“I need a hug from my beautiful boys,” I shouted, as I walked into the rec room where they all were.
David gave me a big hug, the boys barely acknowledged me.
My heart broke, but David explained that they are just playing games with me. He continues to tell me all the fun they’ve had so I ought not to feel guilty. It doesn’t work.
“You brought a surprise, Mommy?” Colin asked.
“Yes!” Now I have their attention. “You’ll be surprised at how much fun we’re going to have tonight with Mommy,” I said with excitement and waited for a reaction.
They returned to their video games.

That night for dinner, we ordered pizza, which I hate doing, but I was exhausted from 3 days of up and back to Halifax and 26 hours of classroom work. Colin was eating in front of the TV, David was watching golf in the kitchen and Evan was on my laptop at the table playing Webkinz. I felt very defeated. Tomorrow I’ll cook a big meal and we’ll eat together, I thought to myself. I was feeling a bit better until I realized that Evan was on YouTube.

What kind of a mother am I, I thought.
I then realized he was watching a video of Terry Fox as he just completed the Terry Fox Run on Friday. I watched it with him.
“He died of cancer, just like Nanny with the dogs, and he raised a million dollars!” he said with excitement. “We learned all about him today. Other mommies were there too, but not you because you had school.”
He really knows how to get to me, and I started to tear up.
“Why are you crying Mommy?” Evan asked.
“The Terry Fox story is very sad Evan, That’s why I’m crying.”

I always like to end my blogs on a happy note. This one I end feeling guilty. But who am I kidding? I’m not the first, and I won’t be the last mom to feel this way. My only hope is that one day he’ll feel guilty for not sending a Mother’s Day card or for not coming home at Christmas. His time to feel guilty is coming soon enough!

All right- I need to boast about my kids for a moment, not because of something they did, but for their reaction to something I’ve done. After 10 years of thinking about it, I have decided to go back to school. It’s only 3 days a month- Thursday, Friday, and Saturday- and about 10 hours a week of project work. We cherish our Saturdays together so it is going to be a sacrifice. I sat down both of my boys to explain the changes and how they will be affected.

As I suspected, Evan said nothing, and looked unhappy and anxious. He wanted to make sure that I was home every night to tuck him in and every morning to give him a hug. Colin just asked lots of questions. “Are there monkey bars at your school? You got a new book- bag? Are you going to Bayview?”

My first day of school was on a Saturday, which hardly seems fair. I went into Evan’s room to give him a hug and kiss and say goodbye.
“It’s still nighttime, Mommy,” Evan said, barely awake.
“No Evan, it’s morning, but just barely.”
Evan insisted on walking me to my car to see me off, but mostly to make sure I had my cellphone.

We hugged on the front steps.
“Have a good day at school, Mommy. Remember to be kind.”
I got an orange in my throat as I heard the words that I say to him every day. They finally took, I thought.
I put my hands on his face. “Evan, as hard as I try, I don’t think I could possibly be as kind as you are.”

As far as my children are concerned, this is the most wonderful time of the year. And it has nothing at all to do with school. It’s because the Christmas Wish Book arrived. When they walked in the living room and saw it on the coffee table, they looked as if they’d seen Santa himself. They both ran for it and started riffling through it. As they turned the pages, Colin’s conversation with his brother sounded a lot like this: “I want dat and dis and dis and dis and dat and- yuck Barbies- and dis and dis”…and it went on and on. So I started to imagine what a Christmas wish book would look like for parents, or at least for me. Feel free to add your own wishes. Here are mine:

All of the toys would come without the hundreds of twists and ties that they are packaged in. You know, the ones that make you say words that you should not be using on the eve of Christ’s birth. They would be already wrapped, without ribbons or tags so they can be easily sorted for recycling. No one wants a fine after Christmas for not sorting properly. There would be an easy button for the turkey dinner. Maybe pre-peeled squash (why is squash so hard to peel anyway?) and already brined turkey. A second dishwasher and two extra burners would be at the top of my wish list, just for that one day at least. I’d love to not have the feeling of forgetting someone, or not getting someone as good a gift as I would have liked. I’d love to not be nervous before opening the post-Chistmas credit card bill. It’d be great to open it and say, “Wow, that’s exactly what I thought it would be.” Or “There must be a mistake. I budgeted for much more than that.” A wish list topper for me would be for my kids to not come up with their most desired item on Christmas Eve. That’s what happened last year. My goal is to do the “I’m done” dance on the 23rd of December. I’d love a night with my husband, just the two of us. Not shopping for Christmas presents, wrapping or going to a Christmas party, just us. Of course the best wish of all for me is to have lots of family and food around me and everyone feeling happy and grateful. Oh, speaking of food, I’d like to come out of the holidays having lost a few pounds and not gained them!

Ok family and friends, here’s my list. Good luck!

School is about to start and it’s so important to make a good first impression. We have to get a new clothes, a new hair cut and some school supplies for Evan.

I came home from work one evening and I find my two boys playing baseball in the yard with their Dad. Evan put his hand over his forehead as if he were hurt. I’m imagining the worst. He got a bat in the head from his brother or he fell and got stitched. Whatever it was, I figured it was bad because his Dad said “go show Mommy what you did”. I ran to him and he removed his hand from his forehead. From a few feet away I see nothing, not even his hair. That’s because he cut his hair and there was about a 2 inch square gap at the root. I was devastated. I had hair appointments for this weekend.
“Oh Evan, why did you do that?” I asked in disappointment.
“I couldn’t see, and now I don’t have to wear gel.” And that was that. No other explanation was required.
I just stared at him in shock.
“Oh Mommy,” David said. “It’s only hair, it will grow back. Just a right-of-passage that all kids do.”

Evan put on a hat and we all walked down to the Saltspray Cafe, one of our favorite places, to see the devastation from the fire. Five families were displaced and even more lost their jobs. It put the whole “haircut” situation into perspective.

That evening, I was looking at Evan as he read at bedtime. He caught me staring at his haircut and smiled.
“Are you mad, Mommy?” He asked about his haircut.
“No Evan, I’m not mad. I was just thinking what a great blog this is going to make.”