Things you Learn While Picking up Coins

When you have kids, there’s a moment that becomes very familiar to you. It’s that moment when you go from blissfully enjoying whatever it was you’re doing to full-on high alert, caused by a loud sound. In that moment, you inhabit both states for a split second, and you almost think that if you concentrate hard enough, you can step backward into bliss. But you cannot, because the noise has happened and now you have to deal with it.

I experienced this moment last Saturday, when my son Jacob spilled our coin bucket all over the entryway. In this case, there was no mistaking what the loud noise was. The sound of hundreds (or maybe even thousands) of coins falling on laminate flooring is very distinctive. And just as the noise was clear, the next course of action was also clear. The coins needed to be removed from the floor somehow. And as much as I would have liked to lay that job at my four-year-old son’s feet, since he made the mess, the truth is that he just wasn’t up to the task.

I did my best to swallow my anger, because what was done was done. Jacob knew that spilling the coins all over the floor wasn’t exactly a stellar idea. The look of concern on his face made that all too clear. Lecturing a preschooler does not make the floor cleaner, even if it is a little bit satisfying to vent in the culprit’s direction. So I did some deep breathing and set to work. As I cleared the floor, I learned a few things.

picking coins off the floor

  1. Coins are very hard to pick up. Given how flat they are, and given how heavy they are all put together, it’s hard to really get a good handful. Pretty soon it became clear to me that I needed a better solution than just using my hands. I reasoned that coins are magnetic, so I fetched the biggest magnet I could off my fridge. This led to my next lesson.
  2. Not all coins are magnetic. Based on my experience it seems that most Canadian nickels, dimes and quarters are magnetic, but most Canadian pennies are not. And most of the American change that was hiding in my change bucket was not magnetic at all. The Royal Canadian Mint may be phasing out the penny, but we still had plenty of them in our change bucket, so I had to switch my approach again. Once again, I learned something.
  3. Coins are very hard to sweep up. Once again their flatness and heaviness conspired against me. They don’t pile up on top of each other easily, and they like to slip underneath the lip of the dust pan as you try to sweep them up. This was a little more effective than my previous two methods, but not by much. And it was made even more difficult by my son, which led to yet another lesson.
  4. Four-year-old ‘helpers’ just aren’t that helpful. Little kids lose interest easily. They also lack the manual dexterity and physical strength of adults. Of course, when they make a mess, I insist that they pitch in. But when they focus on trying to decide which penny is the shiniest, picking them out of the pile you’ve managed to actually get back in the change bucket and discarding them on the floor when they decide another is shinier, you may have second thoughts about insisting they help.

I’m happy to report that eventually all the coins did get picked up. I’m also happy to report that the change bucket is now in a more secure location. This is no guarantee against future spills – but it’s something. And right now I’ll do whatever little thing I can to avoid spending another morning picking coins off the floor.

Twas the Night Before Disney

With apologies to Clement C. Moore, this is what I was inspired to write Saturday evening as we prepared to depart for Disneyland.

DCF 1.0

‘Twas the night before Disney, when all through the house
every creature was stirring (though hopefully no mouse).
The suitcases were flung wide open everywhere,
As we frantically searched out clean socks and underwear.

The children refused to remain in their beds,
while visions of Mickey Mouse danced in their heads.
And Jon in his old T-shirt and I in my nightdress,
were wondering just how we’d got into this mess.

Toilets needed scrubbing, and bedsheets needed changing,
bathing suits needed washing, and carry-ons rearranging.
Around the whole house I flew like a flash
searching desperately for my American cash.

The electric lights in the house, each and every one on,
made it bright as midday, though it was hours before dawn.
The lists that I’d written of what I should pack
lay abandoned beneath piles of random bric-a-brac.

“Now Jacob! Now Hannah!
Now Husband, I say!
Pick up all the stuff,
and put it away!
From the top of the house!
To the last fireplace!
Now dash away!
Put it all in a suitcase!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so all around the house our family flew,
with armfuls of stuff, and worried looks, too.

It was later than late, three hours past nine,
and I was thinking of opening a bottle of wine.
The fog in my eye and the twitch in my head
were letting me know that I should be in bed.

Who knew that vacations could be so much work?
And why’d I volunteer, like an uninformed jerk?
Rubbing my temples and blowing my nose,
I carefully stepped over the pile of clothes.

I put my kids to bed, and tucked them in soundly -
while they tried to resist, they were soon snoring roundly.
Then my husband exclaimed, before turning out the light,
“Happy vacation to all, I give up for the night!”

While I’m away, I won’t be publishing regularly here. I hope that you all have a fabulous week, and that your vacations are blissfully stress-free.

My Actual Christmas List

Over the past number of weeks, many of my friends and family members have asked me what I want for Christmas. I do my best to come up with answers for them. I’ve asked for household items and clothes and books and so on. It isn’t always easy for me to write up my Christmas list, though. And the reason it’s not easy? I know exactly what I want for Christmas, but you can’t buy any of it at a store.

Here’s where I issue my disclaimer: I love my kids. I love them so much, in fact, that love doesn’t even feel like a strong enough word. I would rather not die for them, but I would do it in a heartbeat if the situation required it. I entered this parenthood gig knowing that I would be making sacrifices, and I gladly make them. I understand that they’ll only be little for so long, so I try not to stress about it when they act like the normal children they are. I also understand that there are people who would give anything to have children of their own, but are not able to. I wouldn’t change my life for anything.

At the same time, let’s be honest. Parenting is hard. Sometimes it drains the life right out of you. And so, if I could have anything in the world, here’s what I’d really ask for this Christmas.

Anticipation
Dear Santa, please bring me the following …

A Mother’s Christmas Wish List

  1. A good night’s sleep – and more often than once every three-to-six months.
  2. Some of the dearly-loved possessions that my kids have lost or destroyed, to be returned to me in their original condition.
  3. The ability to leave the house in under 20 minutes.
  4. A floor that isn’t perpetually covered in toys, art supplies, and unidentified sticky messes.
  5. No awkward questions in front of relatives or random strangers at the grocery store.
  6. A meal that doesn’t involve any complaints about the food I bought, prepared and served to my family allbymyself.
  7. The ability to swear out loud when the situation calls for it, without running the risk that a child will repeat it and/or chastise me.
  8. The freedom to watch what I want, when I want, on my own television.
  9. Shirts that aren’t covered in unidentified stains left by little hands.
  10. For a whole week to pass without finding rotting food somewhere in my house or car.
  11. Bathroom privacy.
  12. For my hairbrush, knitting needles, dishes, books, scissors, phone bills, socks and so on to just stay where I put them.

As I said, I know that I won’t get any of these things. And really, the joy of sharing Christmas with little children makes up for it. Seeing the magic in their eyes is amazing. But, as I said, that doesn’t mean this mom gig is easy. And so it’s fun to dream, just for a little while.

What’s on your unrealistic Christmas wish list?

Election Night Bingo

I’m writing this post on the day it will be published, which is unusual for me. But last night was election night in the US, and I was glued to my TV watching the coverage. I couldn’t tear myself away to write. It was the culmination of months – no, years – spent watching The Daily Show, reading The New York Times, and just generally taking interest in how politics functions in the US. What are the latest returns in Florida? Have they projected a winner in Ohio yet? When will Obama give his victory speech? I had to see it all.

As I watched, I heard a number of phrases repeated over and over. I am far too straight-laced to participate in an election night drinking game, but there would have been ample opportunity to become completely inebriated. It seems that election coverage follows a very predictable pattern, and with hours and hours of airtime to fill, and new people tuning in all the time who need updates, it’s no surprise that it can get a little bit repetitive.

election night 2012

Election Night Bingo

After last night, I’ve identified a few phrases that would make for an excellent game of Election Night Bingo. I may save them for 2016:

  • Let’s look at the big map.
  • Too close to call.
  • It’s all about Ohio.
  • Let’s go county-by-county.
  • Steel belt.
  • We have a reporter on the ground in [insert name of county where nothing is actually happening]. Let’s go there and find out what’s happening.
  • Red state.
  • Blue state.
  • Demographics.
  • Let’s compare that to 2008 / 2004 / 2000.
  • Reports of long line-ups.
  • Exit polls.
  • We’re just seconds away from another projection.
  • It’s not over yet. and/or There are a lot of votes left to count.
  • Immigration.
  • Health care reform.
  • The women’s vote.
  • The African American vote.
  • Stronghold.
  • Battleground.
  • Electoral college.
  • Popular vote.

I could literally go on all day. But I’ll stop, before the election night flashbacks get too bad.

What about you? Did you watch the election coverage last night? What words or phrases would you add to my bingo sheet?

Scary, Scary Words

Happy Halloween! In honour of the holiday, I thought I’d take a walk on the spooky side. I’m not a fan of horror movies, but there is plenty of scary stuff in the life of a parent. There are some words, for instance, that may not have been at all alarming pre-kids. But now that we have children, these phrases will cause most of us to break out into a cold sweat. Today, I have gathered some of those words here, and the resulting post is not for the faint of heart. Read on … if you dare.

scary words happy halloween strocel.com

The Scariest Words a Parent Can Hear

  • Honey, my work is sending me out of town for three weeks.
  • Double extra bonus points – The work trip overlaps Junior’s birthday party, so I won’t be able to help out.
  • Time to go for a swim, telephone. Cue sound of flushing toilet.
  • Dry clean only.
  • Here, baby brother, let me give you haircut.
  • Daddy, Daddy, I found the permanent markers! (Thanks for the inspiration.)
  • No public restrooms.
  • Oh, Mom, I forgot to tell you, I need to bring cookies to school tomorrow. They can’t contain nuts, dairy, soy, eggs or sugar.
  • Mom, do you really like that blue dress? Yes, I do. Why do you ask? Um … nothing.
  • Overseas flight.
  • Oops, that wasn’t just a fart.
  • Upon answering the door. Hi, I’m your neighbour. I thought you might want to know that your three-year-old is running naked down the street.
  • Daylight savings time.
  • Here, doggy, have some of my chocolate.
  • Some assembly required.
  • We are out of wine.

What words strike fear into your parental heart?

Happy Halloween!

Lessons I’ve Learned from my Kids

Years ago, before I had children, I read a chain email someone sent around at work. It was titled “Things I’ve Learned from my Children (honest and no kidding)”. What followed contained many fun facts, such as how long it takes the Austin, Texas fire department to respond and how a piece of Lego will pass through a child’s digestive tract in one piece. At the time, as a child-free adult, I could laugh without also crying just a little.

Like most parents, I’ve learned a few things since having children. While my own lessons are not as hilarious / terrifying as that chain email, they’re nonetheless extremely hard-fought. Today, as a public service, I am sharing them with you so that you won’t have to learn them for yourself. Although you probably will anyway, because kids just love providing us with these lessons.

My kids
My little teachers – it’s a good thing they’re so adorable

Things I’ve Learned from my own Children

  • In an attempt to “fix” your printer, a four-year-old will completely destroy it. Your protests that it was not broken in the first place will not change anything. A printer that makes that sound is never printing properly again.
  • Printer ink stains.
  • It is possible to find peanut butter in a small child’s hair when that child has not been anywhere near peanut butter in a week, and they’ve had several baths since.
  • Kids can always reach just a little bit higher than you think they can. And their ability to climb is uncanny.
  • The fact that they opened the closed bathroom door, uninvited, intruding on what you were hoping was a rare private moment, will not stop your children from complaining about the fact that it ‘smells bad in here’.
  • Always, always bring a pair of emergency pants for each child when you leave the house. Because if you don’t, that will be the occasion when you really need them.
  • Store employees may say they don’t have a public bathroom, but when faced with a 3-year-old doing the pee-pee dance, one will magically appear.
  • Children prefer to conduct all cooking experiments with your most expensive supplies – good vanilla, free trade chocolate, herbs and spices that you can only find at the gourmet shop.
  • Lego isn’t the only thing that passes through a child’s digestive system intact. So do corn, peas, and crayon pieces.
  • 9-1-1 operators will really put you through your paces when your two-year-old accidentally calls them up. “No, there is no emergency here. Yes, everyone is safe. No, we do not need an officer to come by to check on us. Yes, I will delete you from my speed dial and move the phone out of reach.”
  • When cheap jewellery gets shoved into a power outlet, it makes some really impressive black marks.
  • The genitals that you spend the most time discussing, often loudly and in public when you’d really rather not, belong to a toddler.

Now it’s your turn. What have you learned from your children – whether you wanted to or not?

Questions with no Answers

I am a mother of two young children. This means that many, er, unusual things happen in my home on a daily basis. Kids don’t really understand the consequences of their actions. Plus, they like to experiment. As a result, it’s not unheard of for them to use all of the vanilla in the name of ‘science’, draw on the walls or throw every. single. towel. into a bathtub full of water. They break things. They create laundry like nobody’s business. They make epic messes and waste toilet paper and eat butter straight from the butter dish. They do these things because they’re kids, and it’s what kids do.

Confused Hannah
Hannah’s trying to come up with a response to a question with no good answer

When my kids do things that most adults would consider irritating, I try to keep my cool as best I can. I don’t always succeed, but I try. In seven-and-a-half years of parenting I’ve found that yelling really doesn’t get anyone anywhere, although sometimes it does feel kind of satisfying in the moment. But that doesn’t mean that I’ve mastered the art of responding perfectly in every situation, drawing from my extensive box of effective parenting tools. Far from it. Like every parent, I often flail. I frequently don’t know what I’m doing. And when I find myself staring down yet another epic mess, I start asking questions with no answers.

If you’re a parent, you know that there’s no good reason for why kids do the things they do. They do these things because they’re not thinking about reasons. They don’t flush a toy down the toilet because they’ve thought the whole thing through fully. And yet, I often find myself asking them for an explanation, because somewhere in my adult brain I’m looking for an answer. I want to know why. Why my carpets were ruined. Why the sugar is all over my kitchen floor. Why there are two naked children running wild in my living room. And perhaps, underlying all of it, why this is happening to me.

He got himself up there, but he can't get back down
Jacob loves to climb up there, but he can’t get back down

There are no good answers, of course. No good answers at all. And yet, I ask the question. Something inside compels me. Here are a few questions with no real answers I’ve asked recently:

  • Why is there a crayon in your milk?
  • Why did you give Cookie Monster a haircut?
  • Why didn’t you put that toy away when you were finished playing with it? If you had, you’d be able to find it now. (This gets bonus points as a lecture masquerading as a question.)
  • Why did you take just one bite out of four different apples?
  • Why did you climb up there again, when you know you can’t get down?
  • Why is there a car in my shoe?
  • Why is there cat food all over the kitchen floor?
  • If you didn’t want your toy to be broken, why did you throw it down the stairs?
  • Why didn’t you come and get me, if you wanted to put on nail polish?
  • Why is there peanut butter on the carpet?

I could do on all day. All day. If you have kids, I bet you could, too. So tell me – do you find yourself asking questions with no good answers? Please share!