People, I got 12 comments on my last post!  12!  It’s a record!  Awesome, thank you!  And thank you for the affirming advice.  I’ll let you know what we figure out.  But I really appreciate the discussion.

Particularly as this week is just full of suckage.

Mark’s on a business trip until Wednesday or Thursday.

I have an extremely busy week at work.

Mark normally does daycare drop-off, but now I have to, which means I need to bust a gut getting them and me out the door in order not to miss my train.  Our local public transport is very limited so it’s not like I can catch another train 5 minutes later if I miss that one.  If I miss that one, the whole day is shot.

I was sort of hoping Oliver was going to step up and be Mummy’s little helper, which I’ve been prepping him for.

Instead, tonight, he poured his milk all over his dinner (on purpose).  He insisted on sitting in a poo-filled Pull Up for said dinner.  After he finally agreed to be cleaned up, he pee’d into one of his toys and then sat on the couch playing with himself.

I’ve had to remove myself from hanging out with him right now.  Because I AM SO ANGRY I can barely see straight.  I am resentful (when’s MY business trip?? when do I get to go away) and I am so damn frustrated with Oliver.  Callum was grumpy and snotty.  The dog can’t get taken for a proper walk because I can’t leave the house unless the kids are both with me.

I’m trying to focus on the fact that in about a week and a half, I’ll be on a beach with some kind of rum concoction in my hand.  But’s it’s bloody hard to see past the piss right now.

My approach to parenting thus far has been basically stumbling through it.

I’ve been lucky in that neither of the boys really had difficult babyhood issues – like sleep or eating.  I made decisions about things sort of going with the flow (e.g. co-sleeping with both of them for my sanity, because it really did teach both of them to sleep at night, not because I believe it’s a beautiful thing).

I guess I sort of thought we were getting away with it, really, this sort of ‘lazy parenting‘.  I see other people making really informed choices about their parenting styles (whether or not I agree with them, they’ve made a choice and they are sticking to it) and wonder if I am doing my kids a disservice.  What is good enough?  What is too much?  Did anyone worry about this stuff before our generation??

Then a couple of things kind of kicked us in the ass recently.

First is just Oliver’s behaviour in general.  I say ‘just’ because he’s a three year old boy.  As I haven’t parented a three year old boy before, I don’t know what is normal and what isn’t.  I do know that Mark and I are getting increasingly frustrated with him, and angry.  Some nights, everything is a fuss or a disaster.  Potty training is pretty much going nowhere. Dinner time, bed time, play time – sometimes it seems like everything is a fight.

So coincidentally last month I attended a training session at work, one where they’re giving us nice topics of work/life balance rather than technical topics – and it was Alyson Schafer speaking to the topic “why do my children do that”.  I’m so glad I went.

Everything she said made sense.  She is a Alderian psychologist, which doesn’t mean a lot to me since I have no memory of Pysch 101 back in 1996 or whenever (I hated that class, actually, because what I do remember is that it was entirely graded on multiple choice exams which is an evil way to demonstrate learning).

What makes sense is the motivating factors behind his behaviour.  He wants attention.  He wants independence.  That pretty much sums up everything he does – it’s clear.  So I need to read more of the book I just got, and Mark needs to read it too, but I am really trying to have more patience when he does act out, and look at WHY he’s doing it rather than getting into a power struggle or just walking away because in the moment, I’d really like to beat him over the head with a wet fish.  Sometimes.

And without blaming us, a lot of what is happening is down to us and how we react to him or what parameters we place on him.  Not that we are being horrible.  But that we need to support more and more independence (I think, actually, we are pretty good about that) and really listen to him more.  The frantic pace of our week, with work and daycare and so little free time, it doesn’t really allow for this.  So we will need to work hard to make it happen. 

I was looking forward to doing some more parenting learning next week as I had planned on attending a talk Barry Macdonald is giving on raising boys that was recommended by Alyson Schafer, but Mark has to go away on business to New Jersey for two days.  Damn.  I’ve asked Alyson to help me give my ticket to the sold-out show to someone else.

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The other issue is giving me a headache.  Or maybe an ulcer.

We recently switched daycares.  We switched because Oliver will be going to Junior Kindergarten in the fall, and he needed to be at a local daycare in order to get transportation there.  The local daycare was not an option until Callum became old enough to enter as a toddler rather than an infant.

Oliver attended the previous not-local-at-all daycare for 2 years.  He enjoyed it.  I was happy enough with it.  Recently, they had started sending home a workbook for tracing letters of the alphabet as homework.  ‘Homework?!  He’s three!’ I said.

New daycare has no homework.  New daycare has no Spanish or French lessons, like the old one.  New daycare has no lessons, from what I can see.  It’s all play.  Play play play.  Play is good.  But he’s going to school in a few months.  And he can now read numbers and letters.  And I’d like to work on his writing.  And let’s keep developing these skills, right?  Where’s the homework, people?!

Last week, we attended an open house at a local Montessori preschool.  I knew nothing about Montessori, other than my mother pulled my brother out of one almost 30 years ago because, in her words, ‘all he was learning was how to clean a table’.  Mark and I went with an open mind and were initially very impressed with what we saw.

Also completely disheartened when they showed me a workbook of a kid the same age as Oliver who wrote and did math (long addition) perfectly.  Wow, hey, we are failing our kid!

Now suddenly we had these two divergent paths.  Keep him in daycare, all play all the time, be more responsible for his learning at home, and hope that when he starts with the Kindergarten curriculum in a few months, there will be more formal learning happening.  And I have no reason to question this because I do believe in public school.  And Mark and I are both products of public school and we’re okay (well, mostly. Heh.)

Or, switch to Montessori (and this Montessori appears to be a full-on-we-drank-the-koolaid-Montessori rather than a softer version).  Stay with the curriculum there until he’s 6.  No play (15 minutes at recess, that’s it), all learning.  All learning all the time, with their Montessori methods and tools.  Which are unique.  Like the thing where you have to do everything silently.  Wow, that’d be interesting with Oliver.

The cost isn’t really a factor; there is a small difference but not really enough for that to be a deciding factor.

There are also logistical questions – like how Callum fits into all of this.  He would be making the switch, too.  I also have some basic concerns about the Montessori’s licensing but that doesn’t really impact the boys, and that’s the important thing here. 

What impact will a seemingly severe change in their preschool education have? And the range of opinions out there about Montessori is huge.  Teachers say the kids are more prepared for the public school curriculum; then some teachers say they are less prepared.  Parents are happy; parents pull their kids out.  High spirited children do really well; high spirited children get kicked out.

I wish someone could tell me what to do.

I wish I knew what was good enough for him, for them.

You know I love free stuff.  And how could I resist free stuff when it’s a company with an awesome name?!
I am now a big fan of Oliver’s Labels.  Here’s why:

1. My oldest son is named Oliver. Henceforth anything also named Oliver is the best thing ever.
2. Labels are a necessary tool in fighting the battle against lost sippy cups, mittens, shoes, etc., — particuarly important when you have two kids in daycare.
3. Oliver’s Labels have really bright designs – my Oliver loves the ones that he got.  He knows it says his name, he knows it’s a train, and that’s what makes him happy.
4. They have a ‘Found It’ feature so that if your item is REALLY lost, as in, if someone has picked up you kids’ sweater in a park somewhere, if they are nice and try to find you, they can do it through the Oliver’s Labels website.  Typing in a code will enable them to contact you by email.
5. They are Canadian – well, in Toronto actually.
6. They were really super nice to give me a little trial pack that is already being well used on cups, shoes and coats.
7. I really REALLY like the Stick-eez clothing labels, because who the hell has time to iron or sew on a label? (not this lazy lady)

Cool.  I’m happy with these.

Or, more accurately, what does my Amazon basket say about me?

I’m thinking -

• Desperately trying to maintain some semblance of taste in music despite the presence of two small boys, one of whom demands HIS songs, but has thankfully decided that ‘Kids’ by MGMT is actually one of his songs.
• Parent attempting to deal with aforementioned offsprings’ challenging behaviour.
• Parent attempting to keep kids entertained and informed through cheap books.
• Parent needing to spend more time hiding in the basement exercising.
• The last person on the planet to have not yet read Twilight (it’s coming to Cuba with me).

Just realized this morning that in my previous post I managed to completely forget that we all went to England last summer.  When Callum was like 8 months old.  After the trip when he was 5 weeks old.

Further evidence that my current trying-to-juggle-way-too-many-things existence is causing me to lose my mind. Or the pink eye I appear to have has spread to my hippocampus or something. It’s actually incredible how much stuff I forget now, particularly long term memories.  Used to have a mind like a trap.  Now it’s a sieve.

I need an upgrade.  Or to download a whole bunch of other junk going around in my head.  A personal assistant would be nice.  A vacation in a month might help.  Meh.

In a perfect world, we’d live here.  If you don’t click the link, I just created an island in the middle of the Atlantic and named it after our family ’cause I clearly have some kind of kick for imperialism.

Well, okay, it probably wouldn’t be that great because we’d have to import all kinds of stuff and travel costs would always be an issue, and the weather would probably suck.   I mean, look where it is.

But we’d be sort of half way between Canada and the UK, which is where we are often stuck anyway. 

If we live here, we don’t see Mark’s family enough.  If we live there, we don’t see my immediate family enough but do get a good chunk of my extended family.  If we lived there, we’d be super poor now.  If we live here, we are mostly okay.

In the UK, I revelled in Canada Day in Trafalgar Square, in dressing my kid in Roots (that’s from this week – oh look, we are famous!), in celebrating my Candian-ness, in seeking out anything that would reinforce my weird little identity in a foreign country.

Now I live in Canada, I read the Daily Mail online everyday for the gossip, the BBC website for the real news.  I follow Stephen Fry and Jonathan Ross on twitter and listen to their podcasts.  I love the Friday Night Comedy podcast from the BBC.  We often watch the BBC world news.  Some of my favourite television remains Doctor Who, Torchwood, random comedies.  We often tape BBC movies or specials when they are shown on TVO or other channels.    We ensure the kids get exposed to British children’s television.  Last night I watched the Brit Awards and loved it.

Mark of course misses his family and friends.  He’s been back a lot more times than I have, though.  And the last time I went was a haze of sickness and a five week old baby and a two year old.  Oh wow, that was a crap trip.

I miss a lot of it.  The shopping.  The travelling.  Being in London.  Such an awesome city.  Current British television, since what we get is so often behind (Eastenders is 2.5 years behind, which means that soon it will be new to me, pathetically).  And we never get any specials like Comic Relief or all the fun Christmas shows.

And weirdly I do miss being a bit different in another country.   How where I was from and my accent was always an interesting point of discussion at work, and socially.   I still get a little kick in my gut when I see a Canadian flag on a backpack – only to remember, oh wait, I live here now! I’m no longer seeking out those that live on the other side of the pond, because I’m back.

Mostly.  Still got one foot on the other side of the ocean, though.

I really think the Rainforest Cafe should have a sign near the front saying “Please be aware that your children, be they of the preschooler or younger variety, may be completely terrified of our animatronic animals, and we promise not to sit you next to the angry gorrillas.  Also, our food is overpriced but we won’t mind too much if you just come in for a drink and a snack.”

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I can now say it’s been 2 years since we moved in to our house.  And it’s incredible, really, how little we’ve gotten accomplished in renovating any of it.  I mean, I suppose it’s not incredible considering our inability to do anything much other than parent two little kids and pay the normal bills.  But still.  I would like to give this house the attention it deserves at some point.  One day.

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We just booked to go here for a week at Easter.   The reviews are good, the photos look good, the tax return money is paying for it, and most important of all they have a baby club.  So we will actually get a break.  And may be able to maintain a low level of constant rum intake.  Sounds WONDERFUL.

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I could end this weekend update on a note about how frustrating Oliver’s lack of desire to potty train is, or the fact that Callum got all pissy and started hitting me around dinner time yesterday for no good reason…

but I’ll focus on the fact that they are actually playing together for longer periods of time now, so that 10 minutes can actually go by without any crying or ‘mummy mummy mummy’ — but rather there is a low level chatter and toy play noise (chooo chooo) which makes me rather happy.  And coffee gets drunk and newspapers get read and I can see the future that involves independence and all good things.