The con man.

The victim.

Have I ever told you that my kids are the worst sleepers of all time?  Have I?  Well, they are.  I’m sure they’re written about us in some clinical book on sleep, or in the book, ‘The Baby Whisperer’ with the caption, “This is how NOT to get you baby to sleep.”

I won’t get into all the details as to why their bad sleepers, but lets just say this:  when we eventually do get to sleep, we’re usually met by one or both boys in our bed at about 4am.  And, yes, I know, you don’t need to say it.  We should take them back to their bed.  But see, we’re so  exhausted by that time, that we say ‘hell with it’, and I end up going to their bed.

But no more.  We have a plan and we’re sticking to it.  We have an egg timer where we allow for a cuddle and then it’s lights out.  The past 2 weeks have been painful.  Listen, if someone told me to go to sleep at 8pm, I think I’d kiss them and hop into bed, but not these kids.  You’d swear they were missing a party.

But the other day I was upstair when I heard a ruckus in Evan’s room.  I went in to see David demolishing Evan’s bed frame and I feared that out of sleep deprivation, David finally had enough and was kicking them out.  He explained that he was getting Evan a new bed, because Evan told him that the reason he wouldn’t sleep is because his bed was uncomfortable.  Dude: Please!

So Evan got himself a new bed, and not just a new bed, but a double bed that is three quarters the size of his room.  And let me just say, it’s the most comfortable mattress even more comfortable than ours, his parents, the wee ones that paid for his bed, and the mortgage, the ones that are getting old, quickly.

And now, when I lay for my cuddle with Evan, it’s all I can do to not go to sleep with him.

You don’t suppose that was all part of his plan, do you?

I hate hunting season.  It’s not that I dislike the players, just the game.  And it’s not even that I have a real affection for deer either, in fact, I’ve almost hit several, and the year I had to drive to SMU 3 days a month, and drive back late at night, narrowly avoiding Bambi,  I was the president of the “Open Fire On Deer Season” club.  It’s just that there are so many, and I’ve seen a deer killed by a car, and that’s no way to go.

But I dislike hunting because I live around woods and trails, and at one time I considered that an asset, and, well, hearing a gunshot outside of my kitchen window as my kids are playing soccer, makes my heart leap into my throat.

And then just last night, I peeked outside my living room window and I found 2 little deer grazing in our yard, and they captured my heart.  See how close they got to our back deck?

They munched on grass completely unaware that Colin’s bow, arrow and target lie only feet away.

Then I noticed one was eating a carrot, so I took a closer look.  Colin places a bowl of carrots and a spider man bed sheet in the yard to entice the deer, you can see the sheet in the top right corner of the picture above.

Not to shoot them.  He just thought they might get cold and hungry.

I was cleaning out the boat the other day and emptying out the last remaining drops of beer from the cans while david was driving, and my 6 year old Colin sniffs the air and with a curious look on his face said, “I smell Keith’s.”  I thought, it’s bad when your child can not only distinguish the smell of beer but can identify the brand.

This is one of those times when I shouldn’t admit something, isn’t it?  I was never good with filters.

I was going through my extensive photo library on my computer and thought since this is officially fall, thus the end of summer, I’d post some summer highlights and they are, in no particular order:

We entertained friends, I grew a tomato, we went to see Sidney Crosby, we slept out on the boat, we were in parades, and watched some too, we went to a street dance, sat on the sidelines watching kids play soccer, swam in lakes and many beaches, played in our first road hockey tournament, played washers at Hubbards Campground, roasted 1301 marshmallows, went “camping” at CBL, went fishing, made lemonchillo, played guitar, played tennis and almost beat David, went to the Lumberjacks hockey camp, entertained some more, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Yet when asked what he did this summer, Evan said, “nothin”.

I have learned my lesson.

After putting Colin in summer soccer for the second year and after he announced, for the second year that he doesn’t want to play unless there were real games, I decided that soccer isn’t Colin’s thing right now.  Don’t get me wrong, he’s really good at it.  He’s played with his brother for most of his young life, so he hasn’t had much of a choice.  So instead of insisting that he go, I let him do what he wanted and that was watch Evan’s games and practices.  ”You’ll discover your thing, Colin,” I’d tell him.

Then, after going to Youth Day in Bridgewater last weekend where there was an archery display set up by the Pine Grove Archery Club, we decided to give that a try, just me and Colin.  He has a bow and arrow because he loves the Dukes of Hazzard and his first question upon arrival was, “Where’s the dynamite that we shoot and it explodes?”  Colin loves all things rough and tumble, the dirtier the better, and if there is an element of danger, sign him up.

Colin instantly fell in love with archery and he’s been a different kid since Wednesdays first lesson.  He stands a bit straighter, he’s a little more proud.  And it will take all the strength I have to not let him practice his archery skills on the family of raccoons that have their way with our garbage.

My friend invited me to a pot luck. FYI- there is no meal I enjoy more than a potluck, where everyone brings their best thing.  I had hoped to post pictures of it but unfortunately I couldn’t go, Colin had an ear ache.  Poor little peanut.

Instead I thought I’d post my recipe for the pot luck dish I would have brought, but instead fed my family.  It’s called spaghetti pie.  It’s great for a pot luck but also great to give a new mom or a sick neighbor.  My friend, Anna Anderssen, gave me the recipe and, Anna, if you’re reading this, I’m certain that I have diverted from the original recipe you gave me.  I rarely follow recipes.  But this is similar and it’s a staple in my freezer.

Spaghetti Pie

A box of noodles boiled and cooled.

2 eggs

1/2 cup parmesan cheese

salt and pepper

1 tub cottage cheese (add an egg if it’s not lasagna style cottage cheese)

cooked spinach

4 cups tomato sauce canned or homemade ( for homemade I saute a diced onion, 2 carrots and 2 stalks of celery in olive oil, add a clove of chopped garlic, 2 cans of tomatoes, fresh parsley, dried oregano and a bay leaf.  Simmer for an hour and puree.

2 cups cream sauce (1/4 cup of melted butter, 1/4 cup of flour, cook for 4 minutes, add 2 cups of milk and add 1/3 cup of cheese, salt and pepper.

Add the 2 eggs, cheese and the salt and pepper to the cooled noodles and put in a big tray or 2 pie plates that have been greased.  Top with the cottage cheese and the spinach.  Then the tomatoes sauce and then the cream sauce.  Bake in a 350 degree oven for 40 minutes.

I only cooked this half way, with the intend to bake it until golden brown to take to the party, but that was not to be.  Instead you’ll have to take my word for it or make one for yourself.

Before school started this year, I made a big pot of my version of trail mix. When I say ‘my version’ I mean no nuts and things that my kids will actually eat.  I throw one in their lunch box and there something that they can eat when they get home from school.  

You can use whatever works, but this is what I put in it:

Fishy crackers, pretzels, marshmallows, dried cranberries, raisons, chocolate chips, Cherios, or other cereal. Mix together and put in snack bags.

Easy, affordable and your kids will eat them.  Promise.

I always remember September 11th, thou when I remember it I have to force myself not to think about the people who died and the families who lost their loved ones.   I just can’t go there.   I can’t imagine that kind of pain.

On that day, I was playing with Evan.  He was three months old.  When it occurred to me what was happening, I looked at my baby and I was sorry that I brought him into this.  Can you believe that?  I regretted for a minute having a child, because I thought the world was coming to an end.  And it did kind of.  

In the days after I was glued to the TV and I watched as countless mothers cried for their sons and daughters.  I thought of everyone who has had to bury a child; a child taken from cancer, car accidents, from planes that flew into buildings, children that die in wars over oil, all children.

Today,  I wondered if anything was learned.

I know, I know, I’m freaking too.

I’ve spent the past 2 months (OK three) making late dinners and if we ate at 7pm and the kids got to bed at 9 (OK, ten) I was OK with that.  Schools back in now, and we have to eat at 6, just so they can have a bath, do homework and be in bed by 8 (OK 8:30), and FYI- I haven’t been able to have that happen yet. But I’ve been damn close.

I’ve written before that I make my dinners the night before, and yes, I usually do that.  Sometimes I’m even smarter and I make 3 dinners in one night.  This is one of those posts. 

Behold the ingredients to make 3 different dinners and I did it while I watched Big Brother.  Did I say that out loud? What the hell, yes, sadly, I watch Big Brother.  Add it to my list of vices.  God that list is huge!  Anyway, it’s not so much 3 dinners as it is 2 dinners and a side starch for another dinner, but you get the idea.  And to be honest, from start to finish it took about an hour and a half, but I’m telling you, to not have to stress about dinner for 3 of my 5 working days, it’s time very well spent!

These are the ingredients for:

Sausage and Spinach Pasta

Ricotta and Spinach Lasagna Rolls

Ricotta and Squash Lasagna Rolls

Package whole-wheat lasagna sheets

½ box of elbow macaroni

1 500-gram tub ricotta cheese.

1 container fresh parmesan cheese

1 Spanish onion

1 bag of fresh spinach (you can use frozen drained)

1 squash

1 package of sun dried tomato sausages

butter, milk, flour, salt pepper

2 eggs

This is how I did it:

Melt ½ cup of butter, ad ½ cup of flour, bubble, stir and cook for 5 minutes, pour in 4 cups of milk and cook until thick.  Season with salt and pepper and add ½ container of the Parmesan cheese.  Set aside.

Boil water on stove, throw in elbow macaroni, cook until done but still firm.  Put in a buttered casserole dish. Squeeze the sausage out of their grouse little packages and sauté innards with the chopped onion until done.  Add 2 big handfuls of fresh spinach and wilt.  Put it on top of the macaroni and top with 1/3 of the cheese sauce mixture and mix.  Bake at 350 for 45 minutes.

Split squash down the middle, clean out the innards, place in a baking dish with ¼ cup water, cover in foil and bake at 375 for 50 minutes.  Then remove and scoop of the flesh and put in a bowl.  Boil water in a kettle and pour over a bowl full of fresh spinach.  Over and let sit for a minute.  Then drain and chop.

Then in rectangular dish, put in fresh lasagna sheets and pour cold water over them.  Let them sit for 10 minutes or according to package directions. 

Then mix the ricotta with the eggs, half the container of cheese, salt and pepper, split the mixture between 2 bowls and put in the spinach (half cup) in one of those bowls.   Put the other mixture in the squash mixture.  Remove the lasagna sheets from the water and pat dry.  Divide the ricotta mixtures between all the sheets, cut down the middle (horizontally) and roll.  Divide between two baking dishes and top with the remaining cream sauce.  Bake for 30 minutes at 350.

 Serve the lasagna rolls with a salad, or as a side to steak or chicken.  They’re great frozen, and yes, I can be honest, the white lasagna sheets are much better, but I’m all about fiber.  

**grease baking dish**

**put on a baking tray in the oven**

I went camping.  

I- who does not camp- went camping.  

Why don’t I camp?  I hate the dampness, the lugging, the packing and the planning.  I hate the cold, the bugs and the bats.  So why did I go camping this weekend?  Because I have kids.  And we do all sorts of things that we wouldn’t normally do for our children.

I went to the CBL camping trip which is kind of like camping for dummies.  CBL is Church Boys League.  CGL was there too (church girls league).  I didn’t have to bring food or snacks or even a tent.  And since I have sons and they’ve been begging me to camp, I decided this would be the very best way to get me off the hook.  

So we arrived at the Scout camp with my car full of blankets and pillows and my flask full of Chardonnay, and I–went–camping.  And just like I did when I went to Scotia Glen Church camp when I was a kid, Colin fell in love.  After all, isn’t that what camp is all about?  

The kids made and let off rockets, we watched fireworks, went canoeing, made crafts, shucked and ate corn roasted marshmallows and spider dogs, Evan played guitar and made it to bed before 11pm.  We had a great time.

And no bats!  Well, I think there were some but they didn’t find their way in our cabin, only in my nightmares.  And just when I was about claim this camping trip a success, right around 2 am I had to pee.  I had a choice to wake up a kid to take him with me or to test the limits of my bladder.  The latter won.  

The next day we packed the car after having breakfast and  an outdoor church service and I decided a coffee from Tim Hortons was in order.  I took a bunch of pictures to post here and as proof that I actually did it, in the event that the kids feel shortchanged by having a mother who doesn’t camp.

Today I dropped off my kids at school.  Colin was wearing his signature soft pants and a superhero t-shirt.  Evan in skinny jeans and a golf shirt buttoned all the way to the top, watch on his wrist, and skateboarder belt.  He was wearing his new jockey briefs.  Colin went commando.  I tried.

Their book bags were filled with supplies that I had spent the previous week labeling and packing and sharpening.  I think I got carpel tunnel from the sharpening of the pencils.  After the 210th one I got smart and brought home the electric sharpener from our proofreader’s office.  I actually overheated the thing and I wondered how I was going to tell her.  I decided I’d tell her here.   Fortunately it began working and I continued with the other 300.

The principal, vice, some teachers and guidance councilor greeted the kids and were genuinely excited to see them.  I left anxious and excited for them, and felt so happy that they get to spend their days at Bayview, a school that the kids and David and I take great pride in. 

I wrote this blog in my head on my way to work.  See, like most parents, I think I have great kids, and I will be their biggest cheerleader, I’ll be their advocate and I’ll support them.  But if either one of them find themselves in the principals office, I think it would likely be warranted.  I don’t think even the meanest principals go around punishing kids that don’t deserve it.  When it comes to discipline, teachers and administrators, I’ve got your back.

Now having said that, I’m also acuity aware, that while there is a huge percentage of teachers who genuinely love what they do, and really want to make a positive impact on the kids they teach, there are some who are teaching, not because of their love of kids or because of their love of learning, but they’re teaching because of their incredibly strong union.  I know this because while I have had some unbelievable teachers who made me feel as thou I could accomplish anything, there were those who made me feel smaller that I was.  And I was pretty small.  I won’t talk about those ones, only the good ones.  The ones like Mr. Grant in grade 9, who made me love French, only because I tried to speak it, not because I was very good at it.  Teachers like Mrs. Smith in grade 4, because she embraced my love of talking and enrolled me in the speech festival.  Teachers like Mrs. Sethroom in grade 6 who was just…nice to us.  Teachers like Mrs. Walker, who’d come to get me from my regular class and help me read.

So to the teachers of my boys, you have some pretty special little ones in your class, and while they may not be perfect, they may be disruptive from time to time, they may not always listen, I trust that you’ll be FAIR, and you will have my support. 

But in the event that I find that you are like those not-so-nice teachers I had, I will be the advocate for my children.    I won’t create a scene; I won’t make a fuss. 

I’ll simply write about it here.  

Tell me, did you have a great teacher?