March was fun!

I have every intention of updating this blog more often but I'll often log on to do so and then lose motivation ;) Which is why I am extremely grateful for the very detailed calendar I keep!!  I can easily look back and remember all the months have entailed!!  And my gazillion iPhone pics also helps!!  So what have the Cameron 5 been up to in March??  Well, let's see ...

- the month started off with Teachers Convention and a trip to Sunridge ski hill for the Cameron's! All 3 kids skied and LOVED it!!  We decided we definitely need to plan a trip to the mountains! 

- We attended the annual Veeteretz Family Fun night!  A night of perogies, sausage, volunteer bartending and dancing!!  One of Em's most favorite nights of the year and this year did not disappoint :)

- I wrapped up my curling lessons!  I learned a lot and am so glad I took these lessons!  I'd love to do more curling in the future!

- lacrosse evaluations began!

- the Crusaders wrapped their playoff run and attended a year end tournament in Millwoods, winning silver and then celebrating on Sunday afternoon with a NERF war wind-up party :)

- The black kittens wrapped up their season at the Sherwood Park Jamboree!

- The blue dragons wrapped up their season with a few more practices and an awesome year end party at Jumpy Things!

- Cal and Blake attended an Oilers vs Bruins game, Blake's 2 favorite teams!!

- We attended Demo of Learning in the kids classrooms and are super proud of their growth and progress this year :) 

- Cal and I went out for St. Patrick's Day for the first time in maybe ever?!  We donned green and had fun with NP friends, listening to Cal's buddy Jerold and his jazz band!

- the end of the month brought Spring Break!!  We were looking forward to this week off for a very long time :) Cal started the week in Victoria and the kids and I relaxed at home and had a few playdates with friends!

- I ended Spring Break with a girls night out - we attended a 90's concert and had a blast!

It was a great month!!

~Tracy 

Demo of Learning

Oilers vs Bruins

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Skiing at Sunridge on Teachers Convention

Veeteretz Family fun night!

It's Been Forever. And your point is?

I know. It's just that I've been busy. And happy. And Facebook, it seems, has taken the place of blogging. Kitten and I have been getting into trouble. The above picture was taken on a cruise in October, a trip I had gifted Kitten for her birthday. I'm not sure this picture was taken the same day of the story I'm going to relate, but you get the gist.

This particular boat had an adults only area on the stern. Not a buck nekkid adults only area, just a place where kids weren't allowed and there was nice lounging furniture. And a bar. And a small pool. And cheap drinks.

We grabbed a spot pretty early in the morning. The sun was warm and the place filled up very quickly. Kitten is a bit of a social butterfly, so while I was reading, she was back and forth to the pool making friends. The drink special of the day? Two dollar bloody Marys that not only had plenty of alcohol, but giant honking olives in them. A delicious breakfast.

I quickly lost count of how many drinks I had imbibed, but I was in a fantastic mood and in my mind, only swayed a little bit when I walked. I managed to keep reading for the first couple of libations, but soon had trouble focusing, so I just joined Kitten in the pool and occasionally mumbled something every now and then to give the impression that I was sociable and paying attention to the conversation. Eventually, I had to use the facilities and being a good cruiser, I got out of the pool and headed to the bathroom.

This is where things took a turn for the worse. As I came out of the bathroom (I think. At this point, my recollection is mostly what Kitten has told me happened more than what I actually remember.), Kitten grabbed my by the arm and said something like "We have to go back to the room." When I asked why, she told me that she didn't know, she had just been instructed by a crew member to take me back to our cabin. I didn't argue. We packed up our gear and stumbled back to our cabin where I promptly passed out on the bed. This all happened pretty early, around noon I think.

Have you ever been power drinking and been perfectly fine until you stopped ingesting alcohol? That's what happened to me. I woke up, the room was spinning and I was getting that familiar feeling of rebellion from my stomach. Kitten gave me a trash can and soon I wasted about fifty bucks worth of liquor. Actually, I think I had absorbed all of the vodka, but there was plenty of olives and tomato juice that made a break for it.

Generally, I pride myself on my vomiting etiquette. I hit the container without fail. I don't spout the "I'm never gonna drink again" cliche. I don't ask anyone else to clean up for me.

Not this time.

Most of it hit the bag lined trash can, but a significant about splashed on the dust ruffle of the bed and onto the floor. So now the smell of sour tomato juice permeated the small cabin, which was only about a hundred square feet. Ewwww. I felt better soon enough and now it was getting time for dinner. We got up and I tried to bag up the debris I had left behind and wipe down the dust ruffle and carpet as best as I could. Soon we noticed a piece of paper on the floor by the door. It was a message from boat security notifying us that I would no longer be allowed to drink alcohol while on board the boat! This was day two of a seven day cruise! Who in the hell drinks so much that a cruise line cuts them off? I mean, that's how they make the majority of their profit! We debated a while about what I could have possibly done to have deserved such a punishment, but our minds kept coming up blank. I had an excuse, because I was still pretty much drunk, but Kitten seemed sober to me and she could find no fault with my behavior.

We decided to stop off at the pursers before dinner and see if we could get an explanation. Once we got there, they called security to come explain it to us. Our basic questions revolved around trying to find out what I had done. Nobody could tell us. Eventually they caved in and reinstated my alcohol privileges, salvaging the rest of the cruise.

My apologies go out to our room steward. He spoke very little English, but always had a smile and a good morning/good evening for us, even after hauling away my bag of vomit. He had our carpet cleaned and and I think worked on the dust ruffle, but the scent of sour tomatoes hung in the air for the rest of the trip. He got a large tip. I think I apologized to Kitten as well, but she just shrugged and said that I didn't do anything wrong. She never complained about my emesis and never mentioned the smell. What a trooper! I owe her one.

Reflecting and A poem not by me

JUN

17

I spend each morning with several friends who share with me their wisdom. Sometimes the wisdom originates with them. Sometimes they point me to another friend. Such was the case with my friend Sarah ban Breathnach who talked about secret anniversaries in her book, Simple Abundance.

She begins the page with a quote from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, then she ruminates on the secret anniversaries.

Here is what she wrote.

"'The holiest of all holidays are those kept by ourselves in silence and apart, the secret anniversaries of the heart'.... It took a secret anniversary of the heart to remind me that there is always enough time to remember. But there is never time enough to commemorate what we cherish, unless we pause to observe, when they occur, the holiest of all holidays."


I looked up the quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, found the poem, and promptly fell in love.

Would you like to fall in love, too?

Okay, then. Here is the poem.

Holidays

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1807 - 1882

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;—
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;— a Fairy Tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.

A grieving Manchester mother shows the way

I wrote a post about alliums here yesterday and then deleted it, it suddenly felt too soon and weirdly inappropriate whilst all the horrors in Manchester were still sinking in. I tried to drag my mind to something simple and beautiful but it was too soon. I can't seem to order my thoughts and words around what has happened.

Atrocity on this scale is difficult to take in. It is bewildering to try to understand it, but to the actual families involved the trauma must be utterly unimaginable and life changing in the worst possible way. The thing that is going around in my mind is the outrage done to the parental instinct to protect - all we ever want to do is keep our children as safe and happy as possible. That those poor mums and dads were rendered helpless in keeping their children safe is everything I think parents dread the most. We know in our heads that there are no guarantees that our children will remain free from harm, but we do everything reasonable to keep them so, it is our most basic function and instinct. I have found that having older children, this protective urge has to segue towards a willingness to give them space and opportunity to stretch their wings, carve out their own independence and responsibility. It has been the hardest thing I have ever done. It causes me sleepless nights, anxious thoughts and the occasional splitting headache - but is my job and responsibility to keep letting go, I can't allow my fear to fail them this right of freedom. I have often filled the growing spaces between us with too much advice and words, unsure if my letting go is not enough or too much. I have had to grow up a bit with them, show some spine, take each day at a time and trust both my and their wisdom.

My parents were and are amazing at this job of parenthood, the keeping safe and the letting go, the offering of roots but the encouragement of growing wings. It was my pa's birthday recently and I wrote him this little poem about a real summer's day when I was about four years old when my dad scooped me onto his shoulders realising a friend's joke about monsters in a nearby creek had got out of hand. He took away my fears that long-ago day and his solid, steadfast love continues to strengthen me to this day. But he can't protect me from everything, all he can do is be there for me. And likewise, all of us for our children.

Pa, you lifted me high, so high that day,
When slimy critters lurked, they said, 
In salty creeks and under bridges.

You put me on your shoulders,
You scooped me up and out
Of stories I didn't understand
But feared.

Just like you did that summer's day,
Still now you raise me up,
Still now you march me home, aloft,
Back home to who I am, what I can be.

So, when such heinous acts of terrorism or calamity occur, it is heartbreaking to think of the impotent longing they must feel to scoop their loved ones back to safety. The callous outrage inflicted upon the natural desire to keep their children from harm could not be more offensive or obscene.

What can we can possibly offer them? Our absolute solidarity and witness to their pain, our kindest thoughts and most heartfelt prayers? Practical dedication to try and bring more compassion and love to the world? It doesn't seem enough right now does it, because it won't bring their children back? But, this morning I heard the courageous words of the mother of Olivia Campbell, (of one of the children who lost her life), and her one message was to stay strong, and above all to not let the evil beat us:

"As a family we are united and standing strong. I ask her friends, strangers, relatives, to do the same. Please stay together and please, don't let this beat us. Don't let my daughter be a victim."

So, that brave voice is my guide - be united, be strong and stand together, be defiant against evil, keep going. Just keep going. We have to keep the hope alive that love is stronger than hate. The people of Manchester have been a stunning, tangible example of that over the last couple of days.

Winter of Insanity

Well. This winter is...really something.

We thought we had it bad then!

It's been snowing on a daily basis (DAILY) for a month now. Noteworthy news happens when it's NOT predicted to snow--which happened this weekend! A snow-free 7-day forecast (the 10-day forecast included snow, because come on, this isn't OVER yet!) meant we celebrated and some of us (me) got out our planners and started optimistically looking toward March. Yes, it's still in the teens all the time, and all memory of temperate weather has been erased, but no snow! Hallelujah!

And then this morning: four inches predicted overnight. That total has since been reduced, but the wind taken out of everyone's sails was just palpable. Oh. Snow.

The logistics of five kids under seven in this climate are pretty overwhelming. There are a few factors.

1. With every single baby I had, after the first few months there was an upward trajectory toward "easier." The next month was easier than the last; the second year was easier than the first. With twins (and having asked around, this seems to be with twins regardless of birth order or number of children total), the line goes back DOWN on that "easier" graph. This is what my friends with twins looked like when I asked if their second winter with twins was basically as hard as their first:

Soooo...that's a yes, then?

From carrying them in their inexplicably slippery snowsuits up and down our front steps to getting them in and out of strollers while fat snowflakes fall on their heads and the stroller's wheels hardly churn through the slush while you force your way into the Y...it ain't pretty. And because I thought this winter would be easier, it's a harder pill to swallow.

2. Bridget is a toddler. A potty-training, temperamental almost-three-year-old with a penchant for mind games, to be specific. She's also so cute that I've become one of those moms who laughs when her kid does something mischievous. No! I swore to never be one of those moms! But sometimes I can't help it. Like when she was playing instead of napping and she ambled over to her closet and donned two dresses--a long-sleeved dress over her play clothes, and a short-sleeved wool jumper on top of that. When I came in to sternly reset her nap clock, she shot me a dazzling smile and said, "Mama, I put these dresses on all by myself! Yaaaaaay, Bridgie! I'm so proud of Bridgie! I hadda put this on, Mommy, because I'm so warm and cozy!" She will do one thing in the potty, 100% of the time as of a week or two ago, but the other thing--while she has complete control over its timing--still happens in Pull-Ups. I know we will get past this and I won't even remember stressing about this, but right now I just want winter to give me a break and have my kid magically and perfectly potty-trained in every aspect. So that I can level up to only changing two children's diapers. Wow, my bar is set low these days.

  

3. Past the logistics, twin emergent toddlers is tough. I'm so lucky to have these small fries, trust me that I feel this every minute of every day. But. These are two very different babies who happened to share special womb time for nine months. Hadley will probably want to nap twice a day until she is six. Bags appear under her eyes an hour after she wakes up--no joke. Anders is like my other boys and could power through with maybe a catnap in the car all day.

Okay, I can't even complain about them anymore because they are so intensely adorable. They've started making each other laugh, which is the most shockingly awesome thing I've ever seen. Anders gives Hadley hugs and kisses, which she mostly tolerates (although it's a little scary to have your significantly taller twin brother swiping at you with his still-developing motor skills on full display). He throws everything he can get his hands on, mostly while emitting a giant bellow that is what I imagine testosterone sounds like when it gets fired up for the big game. And Hadley is a people person. She looks expectantly at everyone she sees as if to ask "What will you do to make me laugh? I'm so ready to laugh, always. Give me a reason!"

Well, this was supposed to be a rant about winter and a commemorative blog post so I'd always remember having survived, but I guess it's devolved into sappy love stuff. Speaking of which, take a gander at my big boys:

  

 I especially miss them when they're sleeping. Here's to no more blizzards and temperatures in the twenties until spring! (I told you I set the bar low.)

Calamity Brook

 We entered the high peaks region of the Adirondack Mountains from the southern corner, an hours drive around from our regular starting point, Keene Valley.  The little town is, from the point of view of this city slicker, an ideal trail head town.  It has one main street, the Ausable Inn with plenty of beds, excellent food, and microbrews on tap, The Mountaineer outdoor gear store, a good hipster-ish coffee shop and multiple entry points to the back country.  We chose a different corner to access Colden Lake, the frozen lake saddle within the highest peaks of New York .  As it turns out, two of the brooks we hike up and around are headwaters to the might Hudson River.  The fallen house is a remnant of the iron mill town that existed for a very short time much more than a century ago.  It was operational for two years, was shut down because of an economic depression nation wide and then a few years later was destroy by a big flood event.

 This memorial sits in a marshy clearing about five miles from the road.  There is a good chance the name of the brook, Calamity, is tied to the event that happened in 1845, when this area was being cleared for logging.

 We stayed the night at the Livingston Point Lean To.  It sat on the edge of a frozen marshy little tributary to the the dammed lake.  Down the trail a half mile the spectacular Hanging Spear Falls dropped in multiple steps some 500 feet, the largest waterfall more than a hundred feet.  The river is named Opalescent and combines with Calamity to start the Hudson's journey to the Atlantic Ocean.

Term 2, Week 8

Hello folks,

Here's what's going on for the week!

Golf - This week Golf will be on TUESDAY MORNING!!!  Please remember to send your child along to school in their sports uniform.  Rug them up with some merino too as it can be cold at that time of the day!

FYI - Golf is practised on the tennis courts at school so we won't be anywhere near the sandpit!

Wednesday Mass - This week Room 5 will be running the Parish Mass.  On Monday/Tuesday we'll be preparing for this.  Please feel free to come along to the mass and see how capable your senior students are at knowing what to do, when to do it and how to participate in the mass.

Report writing for me is finished now.  I've had a busy two weeks getting those written.  You can expect to have these posted to you in Week 10.   Interviews will be next term - either Week 1 or 2.

Eisteddfod - POETRY.  Your children should be at the stage where they are choosing and learning their poem for the school eisteddfod.

Assembly this week will be led by Rooms 1 and 2 in the hall on Friday afternoon - 2:10pm.   Feel free to come along and join us all.

Have a great week,

Mrs Lyon