I like to think that my position on the spectrum of open-mindedness is at least firm within ‘open’, instead of ‘closed’ or ‘judgemental’. Really. Sure, my son plays with firetrucks and pretends that everything is a space shuttle, gun, or a vehicle that drops bombs. Even more, it’s often a space shuttle with guns and it drops bombs.  In many ways he’s a stereotypical little boy. But he also wraps his blanket around his middle and declares it his princess dress, loves to ‘do his makeup’ alongside me, and makes gardens for daisies out of lego. This is all okay.

Tonight we had a lovely girl spend the evening with us – Kate, Leif’s daughter. She’s five, and is ever so sweet. Leif was out playing hockey, his first game since injuring himself in the summer. Anyway, Kate begged me to paint her nails, and since I know Leif’s done her nails before (have I mentioned how awesome he is? How many dads do this?), I figured no harm and pulled out my nail polish collection. It’s a little on the sparse side, as during a purge I recently tossed all the purples and blues, even I think green and orange nail polish that my toes once sported. Now, there are around five shades of pink (I’m cutting myself off) and one dark burgundy red. Kate went for an opalescent pink.

Cameron went for the red. It matches his PJs beautifully.

And my tummy twists up in knots at this sight, and I scoot way conservative on that scale of open-mindedness. It’s coming off before Daycare on Monday, and I can tell myself all I like that it’s because I know the other older crew will tease him mercilessly. But I know the truth. It’s because it just looks WRONG.

Ooohh, it’s a night for a happiness post. I have nothing at all to be unhappy about, and everything to be spinny-happy-blissful about, but I’m feeling rather spun around and dizzy, like I’m one of the orange maple leaves outside being tossed in the wind.  So I just need a happiness post to ground myself.

Most of what’s going on can be summed up with one phrase: hormones are not my friend. ‘nuff said.

The other part of it is asthma. Yay, it’s cold season, and I’m sick. This has me rather sulky, but also,  I’m sucking away on my puffer like it’s candy. Until I’m used to it again, Ventolin’s effect is a little distressing. I feel shaky, twitchy, weak, and a little dizzy. I feel like I did something positively horrendously awful and am just about to get caught. I feel like I’m walking through dense, dark jungle, and I know I’m being stalked by something with big teeth and razor-sharp claws. I know it’s going to pounce, but I don’t know when or from what direction. Lots of fun. Since this is so close to how I felt, constantly, when I was with A … well … there’s a wee part of my brain that’s not dealing so well. So on the one hand I have irrational freaking out going on … and on the other hand I’m aware of its nature and hey, I can walk up a flight of stairs without losing my breath.

Both of these things will pass. It just takes time. Not even a lot of time. A couple more days and I’ll be down to my normal levels of (in)sanity. So I’m taking lots of deep breaths.

And I’m remembering happinesses.

Flowers on my windowsill. It’s been a week, I think, and they’re still vibrant and cheerful.

Leif’s smile. Particularly when it’s directed at me. A whisper in my ear. A wink from across the room. An email in the middle of the day.

Moving. Okay, I treated a couple of friends to a bit of an irrational panic session this afternoon. But it’ll be a good thing. Really. Yes, the actual moving of stuff will be stressful, but then it’ll be over.

Watching Cameron make a huge multi-conceptual leap is wonderful and amazing. He drew a tiger and a lion for me. Okay, they look a little bit like daphnia, but he drew objects with legs and tails, and their identity remained constant. COOL! He made a long ‘slide’ out of lego blocks, with two supports … then adjusted the top to make a horse. That looked like a horse.  He found his Kumon letter-writing activity book, and said sadly, “I’m not very good at that stuff.” When I responded that of course he isn’t, he’s just learning how, that when I try new things I’m not very good at them either and that it takes time, he thought about it a minute. Then he picked up a pen and gave it a try. Then this morning on the bus he started picking words and telling me what letter they start with, with pretty decent accuracy. He’d get mixed up between starts with and ends with, but hey.

The wind on the walk home had a bite to it, and Cameron didn’t have his sweater on under his rain coat, or pants under his rain pants. The poor boy was freezing! So I zipped my jacket around him. Yes, his firefighter rain coat is adorable, but seeing him trot along beside me bundled up in my fleece was heartwarming. I froze, though.

If there’s one thing my neighbourhood does ‘right’, it’s Hallowe’en. Summer parties, easter egg hunts, Christmas caroling, they do it all – but Hallowe’en is the big one. This is the neighbourhood where 130+ kids come trick or treating before 7:30 (my first year here I ran out of treats by then). Where people not only dress up their kids, but themselves and their houses and their cars. Even their motorbikes. Corpses crawl out of gardens, hang from eves, eyes peer out of upstairs windows.  We had an eight-foot tarantula prowling the streets (I’m guessing at the height). Some people own their own fog machines, others rent them … a year in advance. Sadly, the family that used to project old, silent, scary movies on a giant screen hanging from their house has moved on. The streets get packed, clusters form around corners where residents set off fireworks, and there’s an air of a festival.

Maite and Phil next door got in on the action this year – Maite swore they would after experiencing last year. Our block is a little ‘off’ of the main action, but if more people did what they did this year, things would change. Their veranda became a spider’s nest, complete with webbing, giant spider hanging down, wee ones scrambling up banisters and railings.

This year marked a big change in Cameron. Now, granted, he’s not feeling great and is likely a little more apt to be spooked. Last year he didn’t bat an eyelash at the ghouls, corpses, disturbed gravesites, and monsters. The word ‘why’ wasn’t yet firmly established in his vocabulary perhaps. It was all about the festivities, about shaking his little monkey tail in the streets, and the discovery of candy … at people’s houses! And they give it to you!

This year?

Mommy? Why is that foot not attached to its person? Uh … where do I begin with that one. Well you see, kiddo, there’ve been seven feet washed up on shore here in BC and so it’s kind of funny in a macabre sort of way. Perhaps not. Well, it’s not attached because something gnawed it off, from the looks of things. Also not the best explanation. Because it’s sort of scary to look at, isn’t it? That’s part of Hallowe’en my love, getting a little bit scared but knowing it’s not real. That foot isn’t real, see? Yeah, it’s a real shoe, but the foot isn’t. Here, touch. See? Plastic. Not skin.

Maybe a little more disturbing, given that he’s just three and a half:

Mommy, are those people bones? They’re supposed to be people bones? But mommy, if they’re people bones, why isn’t there blood? Shouldn’t there be lots of blood?

Cameron stopped and inspected each and every decorated house, wanting to know why, why, why. He stood by the disembodied talking head on a platter for a good long time, listening and watching, while other kids scampered past en route to filling their bags with more candy. Plastic spiders got poked. Bags got peered into. He stood on the trap door with arms reaching out from underneath it, and appeared to contemplate the situation. Then he wanted to open the door.

Some of it seemed to be curiosity, wanting to see behind the mask of the evening, to assure himself that it wasn’t real. Or maybe just to figure out how things worked. But some parts disturbed him. That foot, the scattered bones, the mist from the fog machines, all set him a little off, which meant that after a bit he became fearful. Thankfully this wasn’t until after we’d encountered the giant spider. Adults in costume can be distressing to him I’ve noticed, but with some encouragement by the spider herself, Cameron was persuaded to run between her legs and ‘escape’ with giggles. But before long, a teary uncertain Cameron was begging to go home. He’d even lost interest in the fireworks, and claimed they were too loud.

Don’t misunderstand – it was still a fantastic, special evening. My little knight in shining armour did boogie around on the streets a bit, and positively glowed when people commented on his sword and shield. He went up to each house on his own, and would occasionally come to grab me by the hand and excitedly show me the decorations. He was again amazed at the idea of people giving out candy from their homes, and continually commented about how much he had gathered.

He’s sound asleep, despite fireworks still occasionally crackling in the sky, and screamers zipping around on the street. For the most part things are quiet again, though. Here’s hoping he doesn’t process the things he saw with the help of nightmares tonight. And tomorrow it’ll be November, and things will be back to un-haunted normal again for another year.

How exciting – it’s time to announce the winner of the first contest on my blog! Many, many thanks to everyone who entered, and also to everyone who popped by to see what was said. This was a neat experience for me, perhaps even an adventure, reading a book with the purpose of sharing my thoughts about it, specifically a parenting book. I’ve got another review in the works, and am trying to work out some sort of a contest with the publisher. So, perhaps mid-November keep your eyes out.

I listed out the entries in order of when they were made, then used random.org to tell me who won by random number.

The winner is:

Nancy!

I’ll send you an email, Nancy!

It’s back to basics tonight – back to happinesses. Not because of a lack of anything to write about. There’s lots! And not because it was a really rough day. It wasn’t. Okay, total meltdown on my part on the walk home, where I let Cameron push some buttons. But the day started wonderfully, and ended peacefully. No – I’m doing a happiness post because sometimes it’s good to recognize the things that make you happy.

Last night. Jumping on the trampoline while the sun set, and the moon rose. Stars came out to Cameron’s delight, and we bounced and leapt in sock feet until our toes were frozen.

A bouquet of purple flowers on my kitchen table – and thoughts of the smile that went along with them.

Fun laughter and good-natured teasing at the coffee shop this morning.

Dry leaves on the sidewalk swooshing and crunching underfoot. It smells like Fall. Hallowe’en decorations are starting to appear – spiders creeping on verandas, skeletons on doors.

Bright blue eyes and giggles as Cameron and I touched lollipops and said, “Cheers.” We’d both gotten our flu jabs, and Cameron hadn’t cried at all.

Playing with trains in the living room after we got home – not just the playing, but also Cameron’s happiness when I said, “Okay, supper’s cooking, let’s play!”

Emails and texts in the middle of the day and evening – they make me smile, feel warm, and know that I’m being thought of. Which is a really good feeling.

Yep, you read right – contest! Read on, the contest part is at the end.

We all, as parents or perhaps future parents, want our kids to grow up with good character. Maybe this is just me assuming that everyone is like me, but I can’t imagine someone saying, “Oh man, I really want my child to grow up to be dishonest, and if they could throw in irresponsible to boot, score!” So we do what we can to raise our kids with what we consider to be ‘good character’.Is raising your child watching shows like “Thomas the Tank Engine,” and “Franklin the Turtle,” with clear and obvious moral statements enough? How about the schools – aren’t they teaching kids perseverance and responsibility through assigning homework and detentions if they’re late? Or can we just talk about integrity and courage with our kids?

If you read here much you know that I’m trying to raise my son with a sense of adventure – which includes such characteristics as courage, initiative, perseverance, and optimism. So when Mom Central approached me about reviewing the book Character is the Key, by psychotherapist Sara Dimerman, I jumped at the chance.

In this book Sara focuses on the concept that teaching children to have good character must be done with intent and purpose. Even more so, she directs the reader’s attention to the fact that kids learn what their parents demonstrate far more readily than they learn what their parents, or teachers, say. Sure, you can read inspirational stories to your kids, or tell them to be honest, but it won’t be nearly as effective as if you yourself model appropriate behaviour and good character. She also identifies ten character elements to focus on, giving real-life examples of what each means. Included in the book is her Family Plan, a series of family meetings that guide your family through identifying and coming to a consensus about what is important, what everyone is doing right, and what could improve.

The book does present options for not only ‘intact’ families, but also co-parenting situations. However, in my case as a ‘solo’ parent the Family Plan is something for me to set aside until Cameron is older. Yes, it is encouraged that very young kids, who aren’t old enough to really do the exercises detailed in the Plan, are included in the meeting. But when there’s just one person actively participating it doesn’t make for much of a meeting. A little one-sided.

The Big Thing that I got out of reading this book was a reminder of something that I – and probably just about everyone else too – already knew. Parents often give their kids some seriously mixed messages. In the first place, the characteristics that are often encouraged in small children are not ones that serve an adult well. However, a slight shift in perspective, expectations, and language can make a large difference. Second, parents often encourage their children to have good character, but then turn around and model exactly the opposite behaviour. How often does your child see you let a responsibility slide? Show disrespect towards someone at work? Although the Family Plan part of the book wasn’t useful right now, this reminder was. After all, the byline of the title is, “how to unlock the best in our children and ourselves.’ That’s the first step – to consciously and purposefully model good character for your kids, which has the end result of not just helping your kids to be their best, but also you too.

I would say that this book is a good resource for any parent raising a child, as well as educators. It’s emphasized frequently in the book that teaching children to have good character works best if school and parents work together. The concepts are universal, and the approach can be modified easily to fit different families. Even though the meeting part wasn’t the most useful section for me right now, solo parents of young children can still benefit from the rest. It’s a relatively easy read, in that it’s organized into three sections. The first section introduces the concepts and framework as well as the author, the second details the Family Plan with meeting-by-meeting worksheets – exercises that illustrate clearly to family members the meaning of the character traits and how they are important, and the third focuses on each character trait. Also included are current online resources for more information.

Now, are you interested? GREAT! Care to win a copy of the book? EVEN BETTER. Because I have good news for you. There is a brand new copy being held for one lucky reader here. How to enter? There are lots of ways, and you can get multiple entries to boost your odds.

Post a comment here telling me that you’d like to win. Ta-dah, there’s an entry. Share with everyone in that comment what you consider to be a good character trait, and I’ll give you a bonus. (be sure you enter your email address in the comment form. It won’t be shared … and then I can reach you!)

For additional bonus entries (one each, and you should post a comment to let me know what you’re doing just so I don’t miss it!): follow me on twitter; tweet about the contest; post on your blog and link back here about the contest; use any other social media (facebook, whatever) to tell people about the contest.

I’ll use random.org to determine the winner, and the contest will close at 9 pm Pacific time on Thursday October 29th and I will announce the winner that night.  Good luck!

I wrote this review while participating in a blog tour campaign by Mom Central on behalf of Character Is the Key: How to Unlock the Best in Our Children and Ourselves and received the book and a gift certificate to thank me for taking the time to participate.

I’ll be back soon, I will!

I made a promise that I would review a couple of books here. One is due Sunday and I’ve barely thought about it! So … yeah. Reading reading reading reading.

(and that gets set aside for a date tonight. Wheee! Priorities!)

Ahhh, Fall. Crisp dry leaves crunch underfoot as you wander through a pumpkin patch in the autumn sunshine, right?

Maybe somewhere else. Welcome to the Pacific Northwest. We do things a little differently around here.

Around here you have to be prepared to embrace the idea of “no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing,” if you wish to be sure of having a good time. Or at least have the philosophy of, “I can put up with anything if there is mulled cider to warm up with after.”

Why?

It rains here. A lot. So a trip to the pumpkin patch means slipping around on soggy leaves, squelching through mud, and remembering to wipe the mud off the pumpkins to be sure they’re not smooshed on the side.  Now, we’ve been lucky this year and had a very dry fall, but still, it was pouring on our weekend trip to the Apple Barn in Abbotsford. This is a combination pumpkin patch and apple orchard – two awesome places in one! Actually, there was a third thing, a giant play structure that included slides, climbing stuff, and a tennis-court sized pillow to jump on, but the weather meant these were closed.

Even in a location where people are used to the rain, the pumpkin patch was a pretty lonely spot. But this meant we had ample opportunity to find good pumpkins. Carly had her ideas as to what constituted the perfect pumpkins for her purposes, so I amused myself by watching the small ones get muddy.

We had fun!

Of course there was hot apple cider to warm up with once we’d selected our pumpkins, a shop with honey, apples, and pies, and a cider press operation to peer at. There were also the obligatory hay rides (we passed – needed to keep the kids more active than that would’ve been) and pumpkin wagons for photo ops.

Then home, to create wonderful things.

There was a hurried goodbye on the veranda on a chilly morning,  hugs and kisses, then we went opposite directions down the street. Dad and Janice headed for the Canada Line to get to the airport, and Cameron and I headed for the coffee shop, then the bus to start our day.

I had a fantastic time while they were here. I feel regretful that I didn’t take more time with them, though. I seemed to be zipping here and there – working, going out with Leif, seeing the new apartment, taking two nights away. Scattered, and often not ‘there’, even when I was. But with moving coming up, I’ll probably need to take some of my holiday days for that, so I couldn’t really take time off work. One of the reasons they were here for so long was so that I could go away and have a holiday on my own, and when you’ve only got two weekends … well, one weekend is half of that time.  I know they came not just to visit, but also to give me a break, to care for me a bit – not just in taking over dealing with the day-to-day hassles like cooking and cleaning (which they did, giving me a heavenly break).  Part of it was letting me have some me-time for a change. A life outside of being Mama. I’m ever so appreciative that they were there to look after Cameron, so that I could see Leif without the nine o’clock limit I have when I’m doing a babysitting trade with the neighbours. They pretty much took all pressure off of me, so that I could just be for a while, which was an incredible gift.  We did have some time together. Thanksgiving dinner, a few evenings, they came to campus with me on a couple of mornings to go swimming, a trip up the Capilano, that sort of thing.

I also know that they had a great time with Cameron, and he positively thrived spending so much time with them. The nonsense daycare-isms in his speech and behavior waned, his speech became more clear and he had more to say. They took him on adventures!  The excitement that I came home to at the end of a workday was incredible – they went to Van Dusen Gardens, to Granville Island a few times, shopping, to playgrounds … all over the place. Cameron would jump up and down, haul me to the living room, chattering away a mile a minute with details about what they did.

It’s a matter of balance, I suppose.  This time I swung a little too far into territory I don’t usually go, or perhaps it just feels that way because I’m not accustomed to it. Now, it’d be silly to stay in regretful-mode for long. It was such an exciting, cheerful time, and that’s what I want to focus on!

They’ll be very much missed – thankfully, it’s not long until Christmas, when we’ll see each other again. I love them both ever so much. The apartment is going to seem empty and quiet without them!

So there’s this thing I’ve been tying myself in knots inside over. Okay, let’s be honest, several things … but that’s nothing new. This however is a good one! A happy one. I’ve been uncertain about how much to say here, how much to reveal and when. That’s the idea that was getting turned over and twisted up and tied into knots until nearly unrecognizable in my head. So when I finally got tired of listening to the somewhat less-than-rational internal discussion going on in one remote corner of my brain, I opened my mouth and said something along the lines of, “Sooooo … about my blog … is it okay if I talk about you?”  Knots and twists unraveled, like magic. Hopefully I’ll learn from that experience. So, here’s the result. I can post about this.

I’m sure you’ve noticed a few of my happiness posts include things like … ohhh… a sunset walk along the seawall, and a moonlit walk on the beach? Time spent with someone who makes me happy? A beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and lilies? That sort of thing?

Yes. I’m seeing someone. Someone who I think is really quite amazing and wonderful.

He makes me smile, and laugh, and I feel good when I’m with him. Or even just when I think about him. I feel comfortable around him. He emails me in the middle of the day, and I’m grinning from ear to ear for the rest of the day. I’m … thrilled. And excited. And happy.

Oh, he reads this blog. And still wants to be with me. I’ve known this for a while, and it’s still incredible.

I can’t wait to see him again. I like him… a lot.

I’m pretty confident he feels the same.

His name is Leif.