For the Love of Milk

Mom's of toddlers, past and present, I need your help. My almost two year old loves her milk, so much so that that seems to be all she wants. When she asks for a bottle, I try to offer her something else first. Sometimes she accepts it, but most often she says no and insists on having a bottle. I can't even get her to eat at meal time most of the time. And then out of nowhere she will eat two or three helpings and I will think "Great, she likes this stuff" and then a day or two later I will feed her some left overs and she will refuse to eat it. I've come to the conclusion that she isn't a picky eater. When she does eat, she will eat just about anything. The problem is that she just doesn't eat most of the time. I know she must not be suffering much because the kid is solid. But lately she has been waking up once or twice in the middle of the night asking for a bottle. We had got out of that habit a year ago. But she just will not go back to sleep until she has had at least half a bottle of milk....I'm talking weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I know she's got to be hungry because she didn't eat anything through out the day but milk. Has anybody else had a kid like this? What did you do? Any great food and snack ideas that your toddler loved?

sincerely,
One Tired Momma

Out of Our League and Victory Without Winning.

My daughter plays on the school's Tier 2 basketball team. The team consists of 7 players, 6 of them are in grade six, Kathryn is the only Grade 7 on the team. They struggle, they are new and inexperienced, and little, both in size and numbers. Most teams they play have double the numbers and more experienced grade 7 and 8 players. They haven't won a game yet...never even came close. But they keep at it and for the most part with a good attitude.

This weekend they played in a tournament in Raymond. The other teams participating in the tournament were Stirling and Gilbert Paterson. We knew we were playing teams that were way out of our league. The first game was against Stirling. The final score was something like 57-6. Our girls were exhausted after a lot of running down the court after the other team. Not much game play was really going on. Our girls were really struggling to get their passes through, most of the opposing players were quite a bit taller and could easily snag almost every over head pass. Rebounds were next to impossible. It was a rough game.

The second game was a few hours later against Gilbert Paterson. Once again the faced a team that was bigger, in numbers and size. This team was a pretty skilled team, and at first it started out like any other with our girls running down the court after the other team and no real play happening. But then something changed. The Paterson coach started make his girls work their plays. Even when they easily beat our girls down the court and could have put up an easy basket, they would stop in their tracks, pass the ball back out to the top of the key and set up their play. It even looked as though they may have been told to make a certain number of passes before they took a shot. But it gave our girls a chance to actually play the game. To try and defend against the plays the opposing team was setting up. Our girls were still struggling to get their passes through. I don't know a whole lot about basketball, but one thing I do know is that a bounce pass is more likely to make it to it's intended target than on over the head lob...especially when the opposing team is significantly taller. Late in the game when we did manage to put in a basket, the entire gym erupted with cheers. The boys running the score clock had been cheering for our girls the entire time. With every shot put up there were "OH"'s at the near misses. The final score was something like 47-2. But it really could have easily been double that. I really appreciated what the Paterson coach had done there. And wished that I would have had a chance to tell him so, but didn't see him after the kids came out of the dressing room.

Even with the change in the way the game was played, our girls left feeling completely defeated. Kathryn was in tears on the way home, she was exhausted and sore and discouraged. I asked her about the bounce passes and why they weren't doing that, explained about how I knew that a bounce pass was better than an over the head lob and encouraged her to try to use it more in the game the next day...A game that I was afraid was going to be the worst one yet. But I was wrong.

We were scheduled to play Raymond. A good nights sleep seemed to do the girls good. They were cheerful and ready to play. The first quarter was the same as every other game they have ever played. But then, once again, it changed and Raymond started to play the same sort of game that Paterson had played the night before and our girls were clearly all using the bounce pass instead of the over the head lob, and guess what? Their passes started making it to their intended target. I wondered if all the parents had given their girls a talking to the night before about the advantages of the bounce pass. In the second half the game changed again. I noticed Raymond relax just a little bit under our own net and not fight for rebounds quiet as hard. And our girls started putting baskets up...and making them...after a couple of rebounds. You should have seen our girls faces. They were over the moon. And ever so slowly our score started to creep up. And with every basket the crowd cheered. The boys at the score table cheered. The opposing players sitting on the bench cheered. The Raymond parents cheered. We cheered. It was awesome. With less than 3 minutes left in the game we were at 16, and I said to Tansley, "wouldn't it be great if they could make it to 20, but I don't think they can do it in 2 minutes". The final score, 44-24. It honestly brought me to tears. Then the girls came out of the change room looking like they had just won the tournament. Kathryn told me that the Raymond team had crashed their change room and they all had a little celebration.

Hey Comets! You guys rock! Thank you for giving our little Novas a little taste of victory! That is honestly how they felt. Kathryn said to me as she drank from her Powerade that had been awarded to her as player of the game "This is the taste of Victory!" They left that tournament on top of the world. What a difference from the night before. Thank you for the wonderful show of sportsmanship! That is true class. You made a difference in these girls lives this weekend. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Christmas Miracles

What a Christmas we've had! We had a very eventful and busy December. One night when returning home late, we discovered something had been left on our door step. It was the first of twelve pixie gifts that we would receive for the twelve days of Christmas. This was all very exciting. We have plenty of pixie-ing but never been on the receiving end of a pixie. The kids loved the anticipation every night wondering what the next gift might be, when it would come, and who was doing it.

We also played the roll of pixie and found a Christ Centered 12 days of Christmas that we used to pixie one of Tansley's friend's family. We included the scripture to read and the challenge for the day. We thought it would be a wonderful way to share our faith in Christ with another Christian family. The girls had so much fun being stealthy. On the last day, we delivered the gift in person on Christmas eve. 

Christmas eve was spent at my sisters house in Barnwell with most of the Forsyth clan. Oh what fun to sit and talk and laugh for hours. So much fun was had, the highlight of the evening was of course the cousins nativity pageant as Grandpa read the Christmas story. As my brother put it, equal parts Christmas and crazy.

When we got back to Milk River late Christmas Eve, we had one more pixie task to take care of. We had gather some fun and meaningful gifts for the family of Kathryn's classmate that passed away last June. We had planned on just leaving the big red sack full of gifts on the doorstep to be discovered on Christmas morning. That was the plan. We did not plan on the neighbourhood full of dogs sending up an alarm when we approached the house. We did not plan on the Father coming out to check out why the dogs were all in an up roar, and finding Kathryn and I crouched down behind their truck. So we handed the sack of gifts over, told him we had hoped to leave it on the doorstep for a Christmas surprise. Wished them a Merry Christmas, shook hands and headed home. Didn't go as planned, but satisfying in a different way. 

Christmas morning was wonderful. The kids were up at 7am, which is earlier than usual, but not anywhere as early as I remember getting up and trying to wake up my parents. Kids were thrilled with their gifts and everybody was satisfied. 

Christmas feety pajamas, except James, he doesn't like that sort of thing.

Here are a few highlights:

James super hero monster trucks

Baby doll carrier for Ella

Car mat that I made to fold into a messenger bag for James

Doll house made from an old dresser for Ella from Kathryn and I

Dino finger puppets for James

A chair that I recovered for Ella with awesome fuzzy purple fabric

Platypus pillow made by Kymberly for Tansley

A warlock cape I made for Kathryn

Fancy pillow cases I made for Tansley

A night cap and slippers made by Tansley for Kathryn

A super huge insulated slurpee cup for Daddy from the girls

A cat stuffy/neck pillow I made for Kymberly

After presents were opened and played with, I got to work on our breakfast feast. We always have pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, whip cream, fruit, oranges, chocolate milk, eggnog, orange juice, and hashbrown patties. When I was finished with cooking the bacon and sausages, I started to drain off the hot grease into a tin can. I paused when the kids crowded around me and told them all to step back because if the grease  splattered it would hurt a lot. "what would happen?" one asked. I told them it would burn them really bad, the kind of burn that hurts for days, the kind of burn you don't ever want to feel. So the stepped back and I continued, but when I set the pan down, the handle knocked the tin can of hot grease all over both of my hands. I ran to the bathroom and put my hands under cold water. Luckily, this time of year the water comes out of the tap ice cold. I held my hands there until I couldn't feel a thing and then twice that long again. I had no idea, what was burnt and how badly. My hands were completely numb and hurt from the cold but I was afraid to take them out of the ice water to find out what the damage truly was. After some time I took my hands out long enough to discover that the palm of my left hand and the back of my right hand were both burnt. I wrapped a dish towel with ice around my left had because it hurt the most and then I held that hand on top of my right hand and sat through breakfast like that, every once in a while using my right hand to feed myself. Later my the pain in my right hand far surpassed that in my left, I wonder if my babying the left hand because at the time it hurt more could have made that much of a difference. Later in the day Brother Ken Brown came down to assist Daniel in giving me a Priesthood blessing. I was told that my hands would heal quickly, in the Lords time, that the Lord needed my hands to do the work of mother and wife, but also that He had a work for me to do.(Healing comes at a price, a price I am willing to pay). I spent the day with my hands wrapped in ice. By bed time my left hand was only a little tender, but my right still hurt. I went to bed with ice wrapped around it. I woke up in the middle of the night and got rid of the ice pack. This morning my left hand doesn't even look like it got burned, and my right hand has a funky colouring and is a little tender, but I can use it with out discomfort. It is seriously a miracle. These burns should be excruciatingly painful. When it happened I thought for sure that my hands would be wrapped and out of commission for the rest of the Christmas break. 

I full of gratitude for a fabulous Christmas day, for all the gifts that have been given this Christmas season. For the gifts that we were able to give to others. The gifts that others gave to us. But most especially, for the gift of  His Son, our savior Jesus Christ. I am grateful for healing and a Heavenly Father who is aware of me, and cares for me. Because none of this could have happened with out Him. 

Merry Christmas!

Remembering

I attended the Milk River Elementary school's Remembrance Day Ceremony today, and as usual, I was brought to tears as I watched these young kids "Remember" people they have never met and events they have never witnessed.

I was brought to tears as I listened to the Grade 5 class share parts of the book "Highway of Heroes" (by Kathy Stinson) and watched a slide show of the hundreds of Canadian citizens line the highway and bridges to pay respect to our fallen soldiers. I was moved to tears as I listened to Tanslely's Grade 4 class sing "Let there Be Peace on Earth" and thought about her note that she left for me on that tragic day in October. Tansley sang out with all her heart, and that class sounded like they really meant it.
I was brought to tears as I listened to the Grade 2 class share their own thoughts on how they feel peace inspired by the book "What does Peace Feel Like?" (by Vladimir Radunsky). Some that I remember were, "Peace feels like sand running through your fingers", "Peace smells like fresh flowers in my living room", "Peace sounds like children being quiet". Kymberly made me proud when she stood with her picture and said "Peace feels like tears falling down my face when I think about my Great Great Uncle who died in the war." And as always, I was moved to tears as I listened to the Last Post played and watched what few veterans we have left stand at attention.

It seemed to me that the children felt a little more connected this year. I know they have been talking about the loss of two soldiers on our very own soil this past month. And maybe that is something that is a little more real to them because it happened in their time, in their country. Whatever it was, it felt as though those kids sang out with a little more heart, and a little more feeling than I have ever heard them before.

I'm glad these kids are "Remebering" and that we haven't let them forget. And on a very personal note, that my own kids know the stories of our own families war Heroes and that that means something to them.

Let Peace Begin With Me

Today was a horrific day for those living in our nation's capital. For me, it wasn't personally horrific, but I was so saddened by the senseless violence that took the life of a soldier, here on home soil. Cpl. Nathan Cirillo stood guard and the National War Monument when a gunman shot and killed him as he honoured those who have fought and died so that we could live in this free and magnificent country.

This news is everywhere. I can't keep my kids from hearing about it. So when they ask if I have heard about it, and start telling me the versions they have heard, we have that hard conversation. First task is clearing up the rumors and the stories that naturally are blown out of proportion by teenage kids talking about it. Next comes the question "why would anyone do something like this? How would they like it if somebody did it to them?" These are hard questions to answer. We talk about evil. And how people just don't just wake up one day and decide to do these horrific things. It starts with one bad decision  and if corrected quickly, you can break that thread or repair that bad decision, but if left unchecked it becomes easier to make another bad decision and then another and another and another without correcting them, and those bad decisions just keep happening until one day they are wound so tight with the thread of bad decisions that they can't break free.  Nobody is born evil, it's a choice they make, but not all at once, but a series of choices that lead you down that path.

They asked me about the shooter. I told them that he didn't matter. Who he was or where he was from, don't mean a thing. The only person that matters today, is the soldier who died. I wanted them to see him, to know his name and what little there is to know about him tonight, so I found these pictures on facebook and showed it to them. The one on the right is from earlier that morning.

This is the young man that matters. He is the one I want my kids to remember when this day is talked about in social study classes in the future. Because Cpl Nathan Cirillo is who really matters in all of this chaos.

After an emotional conversation, I sent the kids to bed and headed down stairs to get some sewing done. Later, when I came back to the computer I found this note from Tansley

I smile. How perfect. Her class is learning this song for the school's Remembrance Day Ceremony. Thank you Tansley, for the reminder that peace begins with me.

Kidnapped

September 25th marks the day the man I love the mostest entered this world. Last year I made a cake and surprised him at work with it. This year I wanted to do something a little different and since the kids didn't have school that day, I decided that we should kidnap him. The forecast was for a beautiful 27C day. Originally I had wanted to steal him from work and then go on a drive through Logan's pass and along the Going to the Sun road, but the road had closed for the season for construction. So instead we would just take him out for a picnic lunch at Indian Battle park. When I told the kids about it they started talking about getting all dressed up in disguises.

I laughed at them and told them they could go right ahead. I had simply thought that we would show up unannounced and take him away, but the kids had something bigger in mind. So we made fake mustaches and beards, and they came up with their accessories and a plan. They would put a paper bag over his head and tie up his hands and we would "throw" him in the back of the van. When we entered the store, we all went different directions so that we would come at him from different angles.

 Tansley took his cake to his office and left it on his desk. James ran up to him and roared really loud "scaring" him, and Kathryn came up behind him and put a pillow case over his head(we forgot the paper bag and scarf to tie him up with, but happened to have a pillow in the van), and he was successfully captured and taken to our awaiting get away vehicle. We were terrible at keeping our identities a secret as we kept accidentally using our real names in conversation. I think he may have been on to us. We headed down to Indian Battle Park and set up  our portable BBQ and did up some home made burgers(which I neglected to take a picture of, but they were amazing!).In our haste to get on with the kidnapping, we neglected one very important part...the giant slurpee from 7-11. So our poor hostage didn't have anything to drink with his delicious hamburger, but he would survive. The weather was terrific and we enjoyed a delightful fall afternoon at the river bottom. And it is very possible that they kids had way more fun than dad did through the whole kidnapping event. They kept commenting on how AWESOME it was.

We then took dad back to work and surprised him with his cake at work and left if for him to share with his co workers. However somehow that entire cake ended back at home...now who is going to eat all that cake? Somehow I think there are a few ruffians that will be able to take care of the cake problem.

After we took dad back to work we headed back down to Indian Battle Park to take advantage of the beautiful fall day and walk along the paths covered in crunchy leaves...and to grab a few geocaches. It was super hot, but I loved being out with the kids and was reminded as to how much I love spending time at Indian Battle Park. It may be the thing I missed most about living outside of the city. And yes, miss Ella is walking barefoot, you can thank her older sisters for that one...terrible examples that they are. What a great way to spend dad's birthday!

One year older and wiser too

Here is to a new school year, back to regular routines and off to new adventures.

Kathryn is off to Grade 7. She turns twelve next week. HOW. IS. THIS. POSSIBLE? She likes her clothes and has her own style. She likes to be dressed up and doesn't have any qualms about wearing a skirt or dress to school. She is enthusiastic, and a bit sassy...but show me a 12 year old that isn't. She is your typical big sister, in that she is great at keeping her younger siblings in line...well great at trying, they don't like to listen very much. She is definitely a leader, both at home and in her class at school. She is excited to be playing volleyball again this year and looks forward to playing basket ball in the new year. She is super excited to be joining Young Women's. I love this kid. She is my best helper and I can count on her to get things done. I just can't believe she is twelve.

Tansley is off to Grade 4. She is super excited to have a male teacher in the school this year. MRES got a new principal, Mr Allan Rancier, the first male teacher the school has had for a long time. Tnasley gets to have him teach her half of the time. She thinks that is pretty cool. The first thing she told me about him was that he always wore awesome shoes. Tansley is an awesome big sister. She loves to take the younger kids for walks or up to the park. She loves math class. One day when I asked her what the worst part of the day was she said math class, because it was too easy and that she liked it better when it was trickier. She's growing up and I just can't slow it down. I love her, each and every bit of her.

Kymberly is in Grade 2. She loves school. She loves to learn everything. She loves everybody and everything. She is an excellent reader and loves to read every day. She wants very much to be like her big sisters and do everything that they do. This sometimes doesn't go over very well with the big sisters. If only they could understand what a huge compliment it is too them. Kymerbly has a tender heart and often expresses concern for her classmates when they have had a hard day at school. She is often making cards  to hand out to make people feel better. She honestly just wants everyone to be happy all of the time. I love her to pieces.

Oh my boy James started pre-k this year. He was so excited to start school. The first day was just an orientation day and only 1.5 hours. When it was time to go he was disappointed that it was over already. They have changed the rules this year and a parent doesn't have to sign him in in the mornings, so he is free to walk to school with his big sisters and I'll still be picking him up at lunch. As much as I love the idea of not having to look presentable at 8am, the idea that he doesn't need me to walk him to school, was a little heartbreaking. How can he be old enough for this? I worried that he would be OK on that first day, but I knew that he would be, I mean, look at him? On his first full day when I picked him up, we walked home hand in hand as he told me about his new friends and the toys he had played with. He never holds my hand. Like never ever. He has always wanted to run out on his own. That day, I wished we lived more than just two blocks from school so that moment could last just a little bit longer. My little man is growing up, soon he'll be a young man and heading off to new adventures at the big school....oh man. Just. Stop. Now.

Little Miss Ella is my only little one at home all of the time. I can't believe how fast she is growing up. Her words are just exploding right now and she thinks knows that she is cute. She loves shoes and is always stealing everybody's shoes. When she gets them on her feet she'll say "pretty?" She also LOVES to be outside. and when it is cold and wet and mommy is too much of a wimp to get all dressed up to go outside too play...she gets very very mad. She loves babies, and puppies and kitties. In fact, yesterday while we were outside and I was working in the garden she followed our cat, down the driveway, down the sidewalk, across the street and down two houses and into someones yard, all in a matter of just a few seconds. I had called after her as she walked down the driveway, and when I went to get her, she was nowhere to be seen, I gentleman driving by saw me looking and calling her name and told me he had seen her following a cat in to the neighbours yard. What a turkey. But even so, I love her and love watching her learn so many new things every day.

I seriously have the best job in the world, being a mom to these 5 rascals is amazing. They make me smile, they make me cry. They challenge me, try my patience and test my limits. They love me, encourage me and never give up on me. They hug me and kiss me more times in a day than one could possibly count. And even though they are growing up, I know they still need me...at least to read them stories at night.