Kids Say the Durndest Things

Whenever we walk into a store, my four-year-old asks if we can head to the 'kids ection.' I always tell her that we will if we have time, to which she always inquires, 'After the grocery ection?' I never correct her speech or her pronunciation of things, as this kind of cute doesn't last, and it amuses me so. I also have never told her that the princess' name is not actually Jazzbert, and if you tell her, I will cut you.

My older daughter, just turned seven, is clear and concise in her speech and easy to understand. An enthusiastic storyteller, she spends much of her time writing missives, drawing pictures and narrating her dolls' actions. She also comes up with some classics, both in her eager attempts at spelling, and her plot devices. For instance, according to her recent Mother’s Day card, my favourite food is ‘brownees’ and she loves me best when I am ‘baking cockees.’  I’ll take it.

So of course, when I read this post at Bunch, I almost fell over laughing. And then I totally stole the idea, ran downstairs with a notebook, and quizzed my own kids. It was a fun experiment, but I did initially make two mistakes while conducting my experiment: Number one, I tried to talk to them while The Wild Kratts was on. I actually prefer the Kratt brothers in non-cartoon form, but my children are smitten. I had to wait until the show was over and their eyes became unglazed before they would really play ball. The second mistake I made, was to allow my seven-year-old to answer first, as it meant that the four-year-old would just parrot whatever her big sister said. So I wised up and asked the four-year-old first, knowing that the seven-year-old would never want to give the same baby answer.

The results were nowhere near as eloquent as in the Bunch post, but amusing nonetheless, and motherhood is about nothing if not getting your children to amuse you.


Kids Say The Darndest Things

Where there's smoke, there's ...
(7) Fire. 
(4) Fire. 

A penny saved is ...
(4) A baby elephant?
(7) A letter. Definitely a letter. 

Two's company; three's ...
(4) A freezer.
(7) Two plus one.

Strike while the ...
(4) Baby elephant is eating leaves. 
(7) Whatever you're trying to strike is not moving.

It's always darkest before ...
(4) The sunset.
(7) The stars come out. 

Never underestimate the power of ...
(4) Electricity.
(7) Why are you doing this, mom? This is too hard. I don't even know what 'underestimate' means! 

You can lead a horse to water, but ...
(4) You can't go under its butt. It will kick you.
(7) I don't think you can lead a horse mom. I think you have to lure it to the water, then tie it up.  

Don't bite the hand that ...
(4) You eat with. 
(7) Could bite you back. 

A change is as good as a ...
(4) Baby elephant.
(7) Barbie. 


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New Naot Shoes and a Giveaway for Canadian Readers!

This weekend, me and the huz celebrated our tenth anniversary with a four-day mini-break in Chicago. Just us! Without the kids! It was the longest we had ever gone away without them, and it was really good. We ate at some superb restaurants, looked at some gorgeous buildings, learned about the local history, and walked around historical neighbourhoods. And when I say, we walked, I mean, we walked.

I'm guessing we clocked 25-30 km a day, literally from sunup to way beyond sundown, through neighbourhoods and museums, over bridges and rivers, stopping to check out cute stores, eat or take refuge from the intermittent rain. And I walked it all in brand new, never-before-worn shoes.

I know! It's a gamble, right? Well no, not when your brand new shoes are from Naot.

These are my new Jennifer Flip-Flopsicles(tm) - cute, huh? They were unbelievably comfortable, thanks to Naot's renowned footbed engineering. Featuring cork over a layer of natural sponge latex, these shoes absorb shock, moisture and, as I already said, over 25 km of daily pavement pounding. My foot probably hasn't had time to yet become moulded into the cork (seriously one of the best features of Naot shoes - like a footprint in the sand), but that did not make my little Jennifer's any less comfortable.

Because I am a lucky, lucky girl, Naot also sent me another pair of shoes that were perfect for our  evenings in Chicago. Going through the Naot catalog is an exercise in pure joy for me, but choosing my shoes can be a painful exercise - I want them all! So usually I browse for a few days, constantly changing my mind about which shoes I'll pick, and in the end, it is the shoes that I simply can't get out of my mind that win. This season, I went for these beauties:

Gorgeous, right? These are Naot Prestige sandals (I got them in Brushed Black/Slate). They looked amazing with everything I wore, from skinny jeans to flowy skirts, and, according to my husband, were quite sexy. I was a little bit worried at first, as I am not a very graceful woman and to me, these qualify as high heels, but I had to pick them. I needn't have worried - they're Naots! Of course they are comfortable, and of course I could walk in them. They are dreamy to wear, thanks to a pillow-like footbed, super-soft leather upper and adjustable straps. I love wearing these shoes. They make me feel amazing, and I think women should always feel that way about their shoes.

I want you to feel that way about your shoes as well, so I have a pair to give you! I chose a pair that I absolutely love, and I think are the pretty darn close to the perfect summer shoe.

These are the new Panama sandal, featuring everything I love most about Naots - the cork and latex footbed, real Italian leather upper, adjustable straps for a perfect fit, and adorable styling to ensure that you never mix up your comfortable shoes with your grandma's. These would look cute with pretty much any summer outfit, and I guarantee that they will be comfortable from day one, whether you are chasing a baby or catching a bus.

To enter, simply leave a comment telling me where you'll wear your new Naots this summer! 


Contest details:

- The winner will receive a Naot gift card for the full retail value of the Panama sandals. This gift card must be redeemed at a Naot Footwear Retail Store, with locations in Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal and Calgary. 

Winner must have access to a Naot Footwear Retail Store. 

- One winner will be randomly picked.

- Contest closes Sunday, May 20 at 11:59 EST. Winner will be announced on Monday, May 21, 2012.

Disclosure: This contest is being offered in cooperation with Naot Canada. I am a proud partner of Naot, and receive complimentary product from Naot in exchange for my partnership.


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I finished a craft! [Alternate Title: Holy shit! I finished a craft!]

So, you all know that we moved out to the cornfield so that I could quit my full-time job and do things like take care of my kids afford a house that has a craft room.

Lo and behold! I have a house that has a craft room! And I actually did a craft in it! Like all the way, from start to finish!

One day, I know I will finish writing a novel. That does not blow my mind nearly as much as the knowledge that I have finished a craft, in my craft room. True, this was not a very ambitious craft, but it is a very ambitious craft room. It has all sorts of possibilities tucked away on shelves strategically built, and drawers strategically filled. I even have a futon in my craft room, as you all know how fatiguing crafting can be.

The craft I completed has an environmentally-friendly aspect to it as well, as it began as a hand-me-down from my husband's sister. Holy shit - I crafted and upcycled! That futon better be a fainting futon, because I swear, I'm going down. Being a Renaissance woman such as myself is all. too. much.

Back to the craft. The craft that I finished. Here it is!

It once was a lonely, discarded old bulletin board, but I finished the shit out of the thing, and look at it now:

Purty, ain't she? She's up on the wall in the playroom, now festooned with all manner of participatory ribbon and perfect spelling test. You know, the stuff that will hopefully ensure that I have confident children who know their parents are proud of them, but not children who think the world revolves around them and that every breath they take must be praised. It's a fine line, made all the finer when they have such a handsome place to display their accomplishments.


So, here's how I did it:

First, I painted a ratty old bulletin board that my sister-in-law didn't want, with some leftover white house paint. Cork absorbs like a mo-fo, so I probably did five coats before it was generally opaque.

Next, I laid my word stencils out along the top, squirted some pretty Martha Stewart acrylic paint into my kid's little snack bowl thing, and taught myself how to apply the paint with those little squishy-dabby sponge applicators (also Martha brand). Since I had never done this before, I began with the wrong size squishy-dabby thing, and got paint all over the edge of the frame. Be sure to keep some towels or a cat handy to wipe the mess off.

(Yes, that's a sewing machine on the table. Think I've ever used it? As if. But doesn't it make me look ambitious?)

Next, I used the squishy-dabby to stencil on a decorative outline.

I would like to say that my four-year old helped me do it, explaining away the very uneven-ness and general effed-upedness of my decorative outline, but my four-year old was sitting at her own little table in the craft room, making a birthday card for her cousin, and doing a much better job at her craft than I was doing at mine. 

Once I had finished three sides of the border, then realized that I should have started with the border and not the words, as I had left no room for the border at the top, I called my four-year old over for her professional help and advice. I abandoned the role of creative director, and let Cassidy call the rest of the shots. Here is her final design:

Placement of most images correspond with the exact spots under which my four-year old left her tiny blue fingerprints. Related: there is no point in telling a four-year old not to touch something because the paint is still wet. That, foolish reader, is simply an invitation to get little blue fingerprints all over your craft.

So there you have it - a finished craft, finished by me, art directed by Cassidy as I am not to be trusted with such things.

Stay tuned for my next craft project, which should be done in time to offer to my eldest daughter as a gift upon her graduation from university.


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My personal NaBloPoMo

In an effort to reignite my blogging juices, I am taking part in my very own NaBloPoMo. My goal, like anybody that has ever foolishly partaken in such an endeavor, is to blog every day for a month.

But I know I won’t do that.

For one thing, we are going away for a 10^th anniversary mini-break in one week (yay!) and I will not be bringing my laptop to Chicago. I suppose I could pre-write a few posts and set them to publish on the days that we are gone, but you all know that I am not that organized. Then, a little further along in May, my eldest daughter is turning seven, and although I have not yet organized anything for her in terms of a party (see previous sentence), we will have a houseful of house guests and I doubt I will post anything while they are here.

But that’s not the point.

The point is, I have been neglecting this little corner of my world, and the more I neglect it, the more daunting it seems to return to it, and yet, the more affection I seem to have for it. I love this little space. I miss it.

I want it back.

Let the games begin.

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The Great Divide

This Friday is Good Friday. For my husband’s family, I think it is simply the gateway to Easter, as they are not Catholic and do not go to church or really celebrate Easter until dinner on Sunday. And by celebrate, I mean, we get together and eat.

But Friday is also the first Passover Seder. For my family, it is simply the gateway to Passover, as we are not religious and we do not stay kosher or go to synagogue or really celebrate Passover except for dinner on one of the first nights. And by celebrate, I mean, we get together and eat.

Easter and Passover often intersect, but not usually by beginning on the very same weekend. For the past 13 years, me and Chris, and then me and Chris and the girls, have spent the Passover Seder with my family, and gone to the cornfield for Easter with Chris’ family. This year, we can’t really do both.  So this year, we are not going to be with my family for the Passover Seder.

I have written before of my struggle to maintain a Jewish identity, and what maintaining a Jewish identity even means to me. I have written before of honouring the past and of eroding traditions and the hope of beginning new ones. I have written before of our choice to move to the cornfield and the many ways it will impact our family.

But here I am, once more, struggling with it all.

Not being with my extended family does not mean that I cannot prepare a Passover Seder for my immediate family. I can; I will. We will eat whatever traditional foods I can find the ingredients to prepare (it would have been impossible had my mother not brought matzo meal with her on her last visit to us.), and we will read a simple version of The Haggadah, and of course, I have my bag o’plagues - always the highlight of the Seder.

But a humble storm of locusts cannot compete with the Easter Bunny. Chocolate-dipped matzos – were I even to find them here, which I won’t – cannot compete with cream-filled chocolate goodies. And finding the afikoman for a loonie reward doesn’t hold a candle to an easter egg hunt yielding stickers and toys and enough candy to fill a little tummy to bursting.

It’s not a competition. I know it’s not. But as I’ve taken my children away from every cultural essence of being a Jew that I could have possibly provided for them, I still feel woefully inadequate. Easter – and Christmas, and Christianity in general – they will be exposed to, in spades. But I have removed all possibility of peripheral, atmospheric Judaism seeping into their life. They won’t drive past synagogues or homes with mezzuzas on their doors; they won’t see Orthodox Jews walking down the street in traditional garb or hear Yiddish or Hebrew being spoken at the table next to us at the dairy-only restaurant. They won’t even know why there is a dairy-only restaurant.

I was not raised with much religion, but I was raised with much tradition, much culture, much understanding of who I was and what it meant to be Jewish. And when I really wanted to know what it meant to be Jewish, I went to Israel and lived among people that had fought for the right to be free and Jewish, and then I really found out what it means. And one day I’ll write about the answer, which will surprise you.

But for today, I will try to decide if I a can only be Jewish among Jews; if I can raise children that value the traditions from both sides of their family; if I can make the blood of a lamb as important as the chocolate treats of a bunny. And if I can stop myself from feeling a traitor, a failure, if I can’t. 

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