ContestHound.com's Life With Kids Anthology

The Trouble with Boys ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 16:45:00 +0000

My 10-year-old daughter told her 7 1/2-year-old brother that boys get "stupid" when they turn 13. Clearly she heard this from a friend with an older brother. So I explained that, while they don't become stupid, puberty can often make them do stupid things.

Satisfied with my explanation, the two went off to play hide and seek. Within minutes we heard a big crash from the bathroom.

I ran upstairs to see if anyone was hurt and Milo emerged with a goofy look on his face. He'd jumped into the bathtub to hide, but tripped and knocked all the shampoo bottles off the ledge.

"Or," he said with a laugh, "maybe we just get stupid at 7!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Look it Up ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 15:15:00 +0000

Bob and I were discussing the future of bound books with a college professor friend of ours. With the availability of so much on the internet, there seems to be no use for "old-fashioned" reference books like the thesaurus or an encyclopaedia. In fact, The Oxford English Dictionary will no longer publish new print editions, only online versions. So it's no surprise when students these days need to be taught how to properly reference sources when writing essays and papers.

Knowing this, however, doesn't make it any less frustrating for the parent helping her 10-year-old daughter with homework when translating comes into question.

"Mommy, I need to go on your computer to do my French homework."

"Why don't you use my French-English dictionary," I said, pulling out the one I've had since high school.

"No!" Uh-oh. Here comes the protest. "It's too confusing. I just wanna do it online!"

"How can it be confusing? The front half is English to French, the back half is French to English."

"But, there's too many words!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Dog Tired ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 14:55:00 +0000

Our 10-year-old daughter Neva has many friends at school and we've become aquainted with most of their parents. We were talking in the schoolyard the other day with one mother when her daughter approached and asked about their neighbor's dog.

"You can go to dog training with them tonight," our friend said. "And we can take the dog for a walk when we get home from school."

"No don't take him for a walk now," her daughter protested. "He'll be too tired for training and he'll sit on the Chihuahua again!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Home Sweet Home?

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 20:06:00 +0000

We have been house-hunting the last few months and this past weekend we found one we liked enough to go back a second time. Since the house was vacant, and our agent is a good friend of ours, we brought the kids with us. They ran excitedly through the house, designating rooms as "mine", "yours", "office", "TV room".

Next was the backyard where they ran laps around the perimeter, testing out its kid-worthiness. The shed would hold their bikes, the garden could go here, a swingset there.

Finally we showed them the "secret" entrance to the loft, through the closet in the master bedroom. This was the height of excitement and they could no longer contain themselves. They started to run around and bump into each other. This turned to falling on each other, then tickling and wrestling and, finally, kicking and screaming.

Once I got them separated and downstairs, one at a time, I told Bob it was time to go. He asked, "Well, do we like the house? Is this the one?"

"It must be," I said, "they seem to fight in it just like home."

We'll let you know how we make out with the house...

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

"As Time Goes By" ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 17:35:00 +0000

As our kids grow up, we often think of times gone past. "Remember when...?" we wistfully ponder. Here are a few things I miss about my kids "younger" years:

I miss the lamb-like cries of a new born.
I miss the toothless, full-body smile of a four-month-old.
I miss the sumo wrestler thighs of my six-month-olds.
I miss sleepers. With feet. Is there anything more lovely than hugging a baby in a one-piece sleeper?
I miss the newly-walking toddler who drags the favourite stuffed animal behind them.
I miss how stacking tins of tuna can amuse them for an hour.
I miss how they readily ate every new food I offered.
I miss how perfectly they fit in the contours of my body, feet tucked into my tummy, when snuggling in bed.
I miss their peculiar "dialects" as they learned to speak. Like how Neva used to say "all by my Neva's self". Or when Milo, at two, would call Willa "La-la-beela". And how Willa always said, "that feel me better".

Now the lamb-like cries have been exchanged for ear-splitting shouts from the hormonal pre-teen or her saucy 5-year-old sister. The newly-walking toddlers are now riding their two-wheeled bikes faster than I can keep up. If only tuna tins were as enthralling as the 24-7 cartoon channel or Super Mario. New foods only push out old favourites, as if there is a finite number permitted in the repertoire. And don't get me started on chubby thighs!

But every new stage has its own rewards, like Neva's sincere and hearty laugh when she's with her best friend; Milo's toothless grin when he lost his two front teeth not too long ago; now I get to watch Willa learn to read, Milo whiz through math and Neva put her creative imagination to paper. And, best of all, they all still like to have me lie down with them at bedtime and climb into our bed early in the morning.

I know in 5 and 10 years' time I'll be lamenting the loss of the days I'm living right now. So here's to the present. And to snuggling with your kids -- at any age!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

October is Breast Cancer Month

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 15:41:00 +0000

Last Sunday was The Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation's 18th annual Run for the Cure. In 56 communities across the country, more than 170,000 people ran, walked and wheeled their way to raising $26.5 million for Breast Cancer. Among those people were me and my girls. I first participated 10 years ago when Neva was just a toddler. It was a way for my mothers' group to get together and give back, but at the time breast cancer hadn't touched any of our lives yet. In the years since, I've met more women than I care to count who have been diagnosed with, suffered through, conquered, survived and succumbed to breast cancer. One of those was Bob's sister, 8 years ago.

So Sunday morning, Neva, Willa and I dressed in pink, donned our Run shirts and joined thousands of others in a downtown park to beat a disease I hope never effects my girls. And as I wondered who to include on my "I'm running for..." message bib, I decided I'd run for those closest to my heart. My message:

"I'm running for MY GIRLS: the two I gave birth to and the two who nursed them and their brother for 6 years!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Coming of (r)Age

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 15:32:00 +0000

Our children grow up in all different quirky and wonderful ways. Some milestones we embrace warmly -- the first steps, the first lost tooth, the first crush. Others we don't even like to touch with a ten-foot pole. Like, for instance, make-up.

This morning I was reminded it was picture day at school. No problem, I thought. I just did laundry yesterday and most of it was even folded. So everyone had good clean clothes to wear. All done, right? Wrong! Okay, Milo was easy: throw clothes at him and make it a race to see how fast he can get dressed. No different from any other morning. I suspect the same will be true when Willa goes to Kindergarten after lunch. However, not only did I have to send Neva back to change out of the seasonally inappropriate outfit she had first picked out, but I had to deal with the thorn in every "tween" mother's side: make-up.

She came to the kitchen looking like she had Fifth Disease, cheeks as red as beets. I did my best to gently tell her that you need to learn how to apply make-up before you can wear it and to please go clean up. I also did my best to gently tell her that I didn't think it was either appropriate or necessary for 10-year-olds to wear make up other than for play.

After she stormed from room to room, yelling about the likelihood that I'd never let her wear make-up, that she was going to look ugly in her picture just like every year, how I was the worst mother ever, and she wasn't even going to school anymore, the only thing I could do was pull her into my arms and love her. She cried. She yelled. She hurled insults. But we could discuss it all later, when everyone's calmer.

Sometimes you just need to hold your kid. And your tongue!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Cookie Capers ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 17:40:00 +0000

We have a rule in our house: no sweets or treats until you've had a piece of fruit or a vegetable. For the most part the kids are good about following this rule, even to the point of letting their friends know when they come over. Going to a friend's house, on the other, is different entirely. They still know my rule, but if another parent doesn't care, my kids certainly aren't going to insist on a piece of broccoli before accepting a cookie. Would you?!

This morning, Willa was playing at her friend Marc's house. Marc's mom baked cookies with them and made macaroni for lunch. I picked Willa up after lunch to take her to school.

I just a call from Marc's mom. She was cleaning up after we left and noticed two cookies left on the plate of four she'd put out for Marc and Willa. She asked Marc if they'd only eaten one cookie each.

"No," Marc replied, "I had two. Willa didn't eat hers."

"Why not?"

"You told her she had to eat her apple first and she wasn't finished it when her mom came to the door."

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Back to School ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 17:56:00 +0000

We're half way through the second day of school and it is only now, as I sit here, that the house is finally quiet! Milo missed his first day of Grade 2 yesterday due to highly contagious pink eye. And Willa doesn't go to school in the mornings. But now that all three are gone, I think I can finally concentrate on work for more than 3 minutes at a time.

Working from home while all three of our children were home for the summer is challenging at the very least. While 7-year-old Milo kept himself occupied for long periods of time (if a very noisy time), our two girls seemed to be at a loss if they didn't have a playdate or an activity planned.

My youngest daughter, Willa, typically started asking if she could call a friend about 17 seconds after she'd finished eating her breakfast. It was like that every day for the 9 weeks of summer holiday. (No, really, I'm not kidding.) One day last week, I had to endure what seemed like hours of "who can I call now?" before she finally found a friend who was available to play that afternoon.

"Marc's coming over," she told her dad.

"Is that a good thing?" he asked.

"Yes! Cuz now I won't be following you and Mommy around all the time!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

A Story By Willa

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 16:21:00 +0000

One day there was a Dad walking in his garden. He was harvesting vegetables from his garden for his Granny. And then he went off and found a basket. And he found a big bad wolf in it. So he took the wolf out and put his food in. And then he went through the fireworks and he stayed for a little. When he was sitting down he found a ginormous toilet. [Here she snickers] So he sat on it.

Then he went off to the woods. And then he started walking again and found a college school. He went behind the college school and found a big ginormous tower. At the top there was a toilet. [more snickering] And he sat on it again. And then he started walking again.

At the end of the forest, he found his Granny's house. They were in the back. He went behind Granny's house and said, "They forgot about my birthday!"

When he sat on the toilet, they all jumped out and said, "Surprise! Happy birthday!" And they had a wonderful picnic birthday.

The End

Happy sweeping!

Willa Gunther, as told to Kathleen Gunther (Ed).,
Most Junior Writer in Residence, ContestHound.com

Swimming, Swimming ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 17:48:00 +0000

All three kids have been taking swimming lessons again this summer, something we believe is not a matter of sport or fitness as much as it is a matter of safety. Luckily, none of our three have ever had a fear of water, preferring to spend more time under it than above it listening to their instructors.

During one class last week, the instructor had the long rescue hook in the water, the pole touching the bottom of the pool. The kids were supposed to hold on to the pole and swim down as far as they could. At the end of class, Milo approached me on the pool deck, a suspiciously huge smile on his face. The kind of look that almost screams, "guess what's different about me!"

"What?" I asked.

"Do you notice I'm extra wet today? That's because I had to swim to the bottom of the pool!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Stuck ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 15:35:00 +0000

I find myself wondering sometimes whether kids forget to plug their brains back in when they wake up in the morning. After a good night's sleep, my 7 year-old son Milo was getting dressed when from his room, I heard him calling for help. It wasn't a pained cry but more of a "what have I gotten myself into?" one.

We met halfway between my office and the bedroom and I was struck dumbfounded by his predicament. It seems that he had pulled up his pants as high as he could get them without having unbuttoned and unzipped. They were stuck around his thighs. Laughing, I suggested he undo the button, but to no avail. They were too tight. Okay then, how about you try to pull them down, I offered. Still too tight.

As I was busily trying to explain to a very frustrated Milo that we weren't laughing at him but rather at his predicament, I just couldn't find the right words. Meanwhile, there he stood, pants stuck halfway up forced to listen to me toss out nothing more than "word salad".

It wasn't until my wife Kathleen came to his rescue -- and pulled his pants down for him -- that his suffering ended. Turns out that maybe my kids aren't the only ones whose brains are not up and running first thing in the morning.

Now, where's my coffee?

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Innocent Until Presumed Guilty ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 17:28:00 +0000

Bob was taking apart the old computer to retrieve any reusable parts. He thought it might interest the kids to see what a computer looked like inside so he called them all to come see.

Milo took one look at all the parts all over the floor, some of them (deliberately) bent out of shape, and said, "I did NOT do that!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Teacher's Jar ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 17:29:00 +0000

I don't know if it is customary where you live but here, we give our children's teachers a little gift to thank them for putting up with our children and not running away in a mad frenzy months earlier. Some parents give gifts that can be used in class next year, while others give something the teacher can pamper themselves with.

This year, our oldest daughter Neva, with the help of Mommy and her little sister Willa are making "Do-it-yourself" Muffins. To me, it seems such a great idea that I thought I'd share it with you. You simply pack all the dry ingredients in a mason jar, add a tag that lists the wet ingredients the receiver needs to add and cooking instructions.

Now we can't take credit for the idea, it in fact comes from a book called Gifts in a Jar: For Kids by G & R Publishing. You can find it at Amazon.

Amazon.com
http://www.contesthound.com/jump/link.php?id=6270

Amazon.co.uk
http://www.crazycompers.co.uk/jump/link.php?id=6271

Amazon.ca
http://www.contesthound.ca/jump/link.php?id=6272

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Chairwomen of the Bored ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 17:26:00 +0000

It's less than two weeks before our kids are home from school for the summer. Maybe we're getting a little taste of what it might be like this year as both girls are home sick today. It's interesting that once they decide that they indeed are sick, they become rather easily bored. I certainly hope today doesn't foreshadow the holidays.

Our oldest, Neva, has already done some reading, played on the computer, had a couple of snacks, watched TV and she's only been out of bed for a few hours.

Willa has done pretty much the same but she has liberally peppered her down time with countless questions ... "Can I go outside?", "When's lunch?", "Do I have a fever?", "When's Mommy home?"and on and on.

Kathleen would say that I'm the same way when I'm sick. It's a funny helplessness that comes immediately after being officially labeled as "sick" by Kathleen. As with the kids, I too get bored and eventually, almost miraculously, start "feeling better", at least enough to start doing things for myself ... really, I do ... honest!

Happy sweeping!

Bob Gunther
Webmaster, ContestHound.com

Winter Break or Winter Broken?

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 16:01:00 +0000

It was quite an adventure, our first big family trip. The kind where parents earn a merit badge for survival. It started the week before, when Willa was home sick with a terrible cough and then a bladder infection. I got a sinus infection, which made packing a laborious task. The night before we flew out, we drove through a wee snow storm, complete with cars in the ditch and a tractor trailer spun the wrong way on the highway. Then Milo threw up his entire dinner all over the van ("Happy Meal"? I don't think so!), and our two-hour drive became a four-hour one. Luckily the flight the next morning was uneventful, even exciting, and we arrived in Florida safely and on schedule.

Despite the weather being, well, not entirely Florida-like (it was cold and windy), and despite Neva getting Milo's flu mid-week, we did have a wonderful visit with my mother. We celebrated Willa's 5th birthday; Neva and Milo lost teeth and were visited by the American Tooth Fairy; the sun shone every day but one; we visited the Salvador Dali Museum and the Clearwater Aquarium for rescued marine animals; we had lovely weather the last 2 days; the kids did get to "swim" in the ocean the day before we left (it was freezing) and we had one good swim in the pool. Best of all, there was no snow, no computer, no work and no morning rush!

I can't wait to go back next year!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Head Over Heels ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 20:12:00 +0000

I don't know what it is about my daughter Willa, but ever since we enrolled her in gymnastics this fall, she's been flipping an awful lot. She'll hang from the slats of the upper bunk bed and flip her feet through. She'll hold my hands and back-flip through our arms, hanging upside-down for as long as my arms can hold her before flipping through and landing on her feet.

And in the last few weeks it has been taking us much longer to walk to school than usual because she stops every house or two to do a somersault. One cold snowy morning this week, as I was returning home from dropping the kids off at school, I walked past our neighbors' long side yard. And there in the fresh snow was the evidence of Willa's earlier passing: 4 or 5 footprints and one full-body Willa print, 4 or 5 footprints and one full-body Willa print; 4 or 5 footprints and one full-body Willa print...

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Let Me Tell You a Story ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 20:19:00 +0000

Last week when I wrote about my youngest daughter Willa just beginning to learn to read, I mentioned my oldest daughter and her struggle to learn when she was in Kindergarten. Looking back at it, I suppose she didn't struggle much more than any other average 4- or 5-year old, but she also didn't "take off" the way most of her classmates did in the few years that followed.

In Grade 2, it was very difficult to get her to sit down to read to me, much less on her own. She hated the books her teacher sent home and the ones she chose from the library proved too difficult. It was discouraging for both of us. Then Grade 3 brought her an understanding teacher who introduced Neva to a collection of books the teacher thought would be good for her. The night Neva brought the first of the series home she was anxious, having taken a good three weeks to complete the last book she had read. But she went far beyond any of our expectations when she read the entire book in a two-hour sitting! She has since been devouring the rest of the series and has branched out into different authors and longer, more involved stories.

Although I love to read now, I wasn't an avid reader when I was young, other than during the summer months. (This has always surprised me since my parents and my older sisters were never without a novel on the nightstand!) So to see Neva beg to read "just one more chapter" before bed has me thrilled. It helps to remind me that, at her own pace, Willa too will become a good reader.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

M is for ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 18:19:00 +0000

The kindergarten teacher at our school has a special reading program for her students. Each Tuesday, a book bag is sent home with an easy reader, a story book and a duotang that holds poems they are learning in school. Our youngest daughter, Willa, who began Junior Kindergarten this fall, has seen her sister and brother bring these special books home all her life. So she was thrilled the day she brought home her first book bag.

Now, Willa wasn't old enough to remember Neva struggling to learn to read. But she has been aware of Milo's intuitive ability to read, sound out and spell. Naturally, she believed that being in possession of the revered book bag would magically turn her into a proficient reader. Thankfully she doesn't get frustrated with the reality of it all. But she will quickly cover my mouth if I'm helping her with something she remembers from the last time we read.

Still, she has begun the exciting journey through letter sounds and words, particularly the initial consonant sounds: "Duh-duh-duh...Daddy". In fact, the other day we were looking at things on my desk and, thinking of marker, I asked, "What begins with M?"

"Muh-muh-muh ... muh-muh-muh ... PENCIL!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Fair Trade?

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 20:23:00 +0000

The kids had a great time trick-or-treating last Friday. Part of what made it extra special was going out with their friends. It was fun for me too, because as I was left to organize the get together of the neighbourhood kids and parents, I volunteered all the dads to walk with the kids and invited the moms to have a glass of wine with me! Good times aside, at the end of the day, as always, I was overwhelmed by the indulgence and waste of Halloween candy. My three kids brought home 16 pounds (more than 7kg) of candy! (There's the indulgence.) Who can eat that much sugar?! (Well, the Halloweens I was pregnant with Milo and Willa, I took one for the team and plowed through all the chocolate bars. The things we sacrifice for the betterment of our children.)

So, first off Bob and I remove all contraband: hard candies, lollipops, toffees that get stuck in their teeth and things that are just gross to look at. That all goes in the garbage (there's the waste), but there still remains a copious amount. So a few years ago we adopted a deal our friend makes with her kids. I ask them to get rid of (ie. give to me) half of their loot in exchange for a small toy. In the past, it was like pulling teeth to get them to do it -- perhaps the same teeth that would have been pulled after eating it all? But this year I was really impressed with their will power. Neva, our oldest and usually the hardest sell, was particularly keen.

It had finally occurred to her that, "I got all this for free, but you had to buy the toy!"

Ah-ha! Very astute observation, I agreed.

So, just how long do you think I still have until she realises that the $3 toy I got at a half price sale is worth only a third of the value of the candy she just traded in?

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

In the Eye of the "Snow-holder" ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 17:26:00 +0000

We had our first snowfall overnight and it was a doozy. I awoke at 3:30am when the power went out. There was thunder and lightning, wind and a blanket of heavy, wet snow. Four hours later, when the kids woke up, we went out to survey the damage.

Six inches (15 cm) of slush covered the autumn-coloured leaves still hanging on the trees; large branches lay all along the street and the sidewalks, and several power lines had been downed. The pear tree we planted just after Neva was born was almost completely destroyed, as was the old magnolia tree in our neighbour's front yard.

But as Bob and I looked at the morning with our grown up eyes, seeing only damage and clean up and messy driving conditions, the kids had an entirely different outlook. All three put on their coats and boots over top of their pyjamas and ran outside. What they saw meant snow forts and snowmen, tobogganing and snow angels. And it was beautiful.

Later today, after I've recovered from the shock of winter's early arrival, I think I will go out and have a snowball fight!

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Running With Scissors ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 22 Oct 2008 19:24:00 +0000

There is a lot of very sage, motherly advice that gets passed from generation to generation: don't talk with food in your mouth, never talk to strangers, always wear clean underwear. I'd like to focus on an oldie but a goodie: don't run with scissors.

I'm not sure that my 6-year-old son actually runs with scissors -- certainly I've never witnessed it. But there are plenty of other things that can go wrong with a pair of blunt-ended safety scissors. Like cutting your perfect spelling test into tiny pieces. ("I want Granny to pick a word and ask me to spell it!") Or cutting your bangs to the scalp when the teacher's not looking. ("Owen did it too!") And then there's snipping "vents" into your shorts. ("It was an accident!" he claimed. An accident? All thirteen times?!)

Milo always talks with food in his mouth, not only talks to passers-by but tells them all our names and ages as well, and as long as he's wearing underwear at all we're good. But I think I'd just rather he not have the scissors at all, thank you very much.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

What a Turkey …

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 15:12:00 +0000

Editor's Note: Because Canada is north of the United States, its harvest comes earlier in the year. As such, Thanksgiving in Canada is the second Monday in October.

This past weekend, Bob and I sent the kids to my mother's cottage to spend Thanksgiving there while we got away for a much needed break. Although we've each had overnights away from the kids, it was the first time we'd been away together without them. And as I suspected, they were so well occupied by all their aunts, uncles and cousins, they really didn't miss us much at all!

On the drive back home, we caught up on their weekend, which they praised as they best time of their lives. They went on a long hike, they played cards, they went fishing, they stayed up really late. And they had Thanksgiving dinner.

"And Mommy," Neva told me, "Milo ate almost everything on his plate!"

I had my doubts, knowing my veg-a-phobic son who also refuses pork and poultry. Time to dig a little deeper. "So, what exactly was on your plate?"

"The teenagers served him," Neva continued to speak for Milo. They had given him turkey, potatoes, carrots, gravy and a piece of bread. I was incredulous! Maybe we should have sent him away on his own years ago.

"And you ate everything?!"

"He ate almost everything on his plate!" Neva was excited for him.

"So Milo, you ate turkey?"

"No," came the reply, in an excited tone that was almost begging me to go on.

"Did you eat potatoes?"

"No."

"What about the carrots?"

"No, but the gravy was awesome!!"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

Parenting Paradox …

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 15:24:00 +0000

I find myself struggling with something I never thought would be an issue. The thing I want most for my children is self-confidence. We are always giving our children positive attention for jobs well done, from the first smile to the first step, the first stick figure to the first bike ride without training wheels. They are rewarded with smiles, hugs, encouraging words and, yes, sometimes even chocolate!

So why is it that my 9-year-old can complete a near-perfect math test but the next day be frazzled by the very same homework? Why is it that she doesn't believe she is capable? Have I not praised her enough? Have I praised her so much that she is unable to trust her abilities without encouragement? Perhaps I have not taught her to look within and see it for herself.

It's a frustrating paradox that something so positive can backfire and become a negative; that some children must always seek the approving nod of their peers or parents before believing in themselves.

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com

One of those ...

noreply@blogger.com (ContestHound) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 16:54:00 +0000

If your'e like me and approaching 40, you will understand what I mean by having a "senior moment". It's when you start the coffee pot without adding the coffee; or forget where you left your glasses only to discover, after searching for an hour, that they've been on your face the whole time.

Well, similar to the "senior moment" is a phenomenon I like to call "pre-schooler moments", although it can happen to any child up to about age 10. These are purely innocent distortions of a lesson learned or a comment heard. Like when Neva, now in Grade 4, mentions the United States of Ontario. Or how Milo thinks everyone is as knowledgeable about NASCAR as he is and offers to "bump draft" the 2-year-old at the top of the slide to get him moving.

Or, like today, when Willa asked, "Mommy, how do you spell TV?"

Happy sweeping!

Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com