Life in the hutch

The early part of last evening was a rough one for Goose.  She has just started to develop a cold, and was at that stage where everytime she tried to breath through her nose she found she couldn’t, freaked out and woke up crying.  The evening was long, and as Willy and I headed to bed, she woke again.  We settled her, but she stayed in a semi-awake stage and half played, half freaked out with the nose breathing thing.

It is our usual habit to read in bed before we go to sleep, but with Goosie in a fragile state, we decided to shut the lights out early. This was in part because we figured that we were in for a long night, but also because we knew that the lights would alert her to the fact that we were still up, and that we would answer to her demands. We can’t have her believing that we are here to answer to her every beck and call!

So we lay in the dark, not yet ready to sleep.  We listened to our lil girl as she shuffled and snuffled, sang, talked with, and played with her baby.  We listened to the lil boy as he murmured in his sleep. We listened to the cat as she ran around the house in her crazy post-bed escapades.  We listened to each other, as we talked about the day that was, the week that is coming, the lils and all they do to brighten our lives, and we listened to what each other was saying. More and more I find that our messages to each other get lost in the noise of our house, left half said or even unsaid, or misinterpreted because we get interrupted or distracted. It was nice to have these moments to whisper in the dark, just the two of us.

When we bought our house, mail was probably one of the furthest things from my mind. Whether or not we had home delivery or picked up from a super box was not going to impact our purchasing decision in any way, so I never thought about it. I don’t think that it actually really registered with me that we have home delivery until we moved in. I love home delivery, so I was actually glad that we don’t have a super mailbox to go to.

I grew up with home delivery, and have fond memories of knowing the exact moment that mail was delivered. My siblings and I would race to the door to try to either say hi to the mailman, or be the one who got to bring the mail to mom. We had the same mailman for long stretches of time so there was some familiarity. They each got to know us a little, and we got to know them. Mail carriers, especially back then when EVERYTHING came by postal mail, are trusted with the timely delivery of both bills and cheques, and also personal mail. Even though many things are sent electronically these days, I still count on the mail for cards, magazines, online purchases, and the occasional bill or cheque.

For almost the entire time we have been in the house, we have had the same mail carrier. He was a no-nonsense kinda guy, who took his job seriously. Always friendly, he was never one to stop and chat, just tossing us a quick greeting whenever we were out front and he swung by. I got used to his patterns, and could always tell when the mail would be in the box. He reversed his route mid-week, so it was early early on in the week, and late towards the end of the week. I liked the predictability, and I liked knowing, if even a smidge, who was trusted with my mail.*

Our regular guy was transferred early this year. Because it was winter, I didn’t see a new carrier, I just noticed that there were differences in our delivery. The predictable routine was gone, and our mail was coming at wildly different times of the day. Some nights it was even after dinner when it landed in the box. We also started getting our neighbours’ mail. Our direct neighbours’, the house on our street whose house number is ours transposed, and the people the next street over who share our house number. I figured that it would stop after a couple of weeks when the new person settled in, but it didn’t, and it made me start to pay attention to our mail.

Once I started to look at things, I started to get a little ticked at our new mail carrier. I am all for the evolution towards a paperless society, and, as such know that there are generally a couple of days here and there when there is no mail… but we frequently miss 2-3 days of mail at a time, then receive a pile of mail all at once. Then she started to do things that ticked me off. We’d get one magazine, but it would be tied together with 15 elastics. She doesn’t always wear her uniform, or if she does, it is hidden under a coat. We continued to get the wrong mail, months after she’d taken over the route. I felt that she should have gotten it after a few months, but she didn’t. She also didn’t pick up the misdirected mail that I left hanging out of the box, even though I confirmed with the last mailman that this was the accepted protocol. She just ignored it for days on end, or worse let it drop out of the box onto the step and blow away. It irked me.

The kicker, and the thing that actually upsets me is that she drives our route. I didn’t believe it when I first noticed the car going up the street, stopping in every second or third lane and the driver running up to the door. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, but then one day she drove up while I was out front with the lils. I was too shocked to say anything, but next time I will. I don’t know what her story is, if she has an injury, is trying to fit in two or more jobs, if she is lazy… I just know that it has burst my bubble about home delivery, and that makes me sad.

*I realize that there are many others who are trusted with my mail, but he brought it directly to my house.*

Today was election day in Canada and I voted. I voted because I don’t like what is happening in my riding, but more so because I disagree with the way the country has been governed for the last five years. I voted because not is not only my right, I feel that it is my responsibility. I voted because I have no reason not to vote. People all over this country overcome far greater obstacles than I did to get to the polls. People like my grandfather who, at 97, voted at the advance polls to ensure that his vote counts. He voted at the advance poll because he wasn’t sure he would make it to election day (he did). Democracy came to Poland long after he fled with his wife and twin boys, so he knows how significant it is to vote. People around the world die fighting for the right to vote, so I can figure out how to fit voting in between naps and dinner. I voted because I have never not voted, and I firmly believe that you have to vote to be able to complain about the results.

Most importantly, I voted for my children. I want them to know that they have a voice, that what they think and believe in can be heard, and that they can make a difference. They have accompanied us to every election that has taken place in their short lives. They are starting to ask questions about the process and about the candidates that we are considering electing, and I love to talk to them about the process and how important it is. I’ll continue to teach them about democracy, until I can watch them go and vote for the first time. They are the future, and teaching them about the electoral process ensures a better future for them.

Here is my voting buddy Goose, just after she made the “X” on my ballot. Eyes wide open!

Both of my children are questioners. They start the first thing in the morning and don’t let up until they go to sleep. Both, in fact, have been known to lie in bed and ask many a question to themselves, their stuffies, the air… all overheard on the monitor long after we have left them for sleep. They know that these questions are not going to be answered right then, but feel the need to get them out anyways. We frequently get asked the questions in person the next morning. I love that they are both so curious, and hope that I never tire of answering their questions.

Woo is a master questioner. He has never asked just “why”. Since he started talking, the questions have been very specific, pointed, and non-stop. Our wonderful daycare provider frequently tells me that he asks more questions than the other four children combined! This may be because the others can’t get a word in edgewise, but any way you look at it, there are a tonne of questions.

Our answers frequently always lead to more questions, and more questions, and the discussions either end with me turning the question back on him (ie “why do you think that is happening”) or promising to go ask the internet what the answer to that question is. I do have to go to the internet a lot to find out the right answers for him, which makes me think that school will be a learning experience for us all.

Tonight at dinner Woo asked us if it was less dangerous to get smoke only in your ears. We both sat in silence for a few minutes, not sure where this was coming or going, and then talked about how it would likely be less dangerous to get smoke in your ears, that it would be hard to only get smoke in your ears, and that the fact that smoke was getting in your ears meant you were close to fire, so eyes/nose/mouth would be in danger too. He didn’t seem satisfied with our answers, but dropped the line of questions.

It was my turn to put Woo to bed tonight, and he was very deliberate in his choice for books, one of his favourite Sesame Street books. He chose this book because we clearly had not answered his questions at supper, and he knew that the story would let me see where he was coming from. I didn’t know that yet. I started reading, but didn’t think anything of his book choice, or determination to have it read, until I saw this picture:

One of the things that we have tried to foster in our children is a positive self image and a healthy dose of self confidence.  Most days I think that we are doing a decent job.  Neither of them is what I would call overconfident, they know their limits, and they aren’t cocky. We know they are young and things could change, so watch them to see how they develop.

It seems of late that Woo has become aware of how he can sway opinions and get his way if he projects confidence.  I noticed it at first with Goosie.  He can get her to do or say anything, so long as he is confident in his delivery.  He delights in getting her to be naughty, knowing full well that she will get in trouble for her misdeeds!  It only took me half a dozen or so such misdeeds to realize that they were immediately preceded by Woo saying “Goose, do this…”.

Now that he gets in trouble for leading her astray, he has focussed his attention on getting her to back up his rich fantasies.  I frequently get these awesome tales about the completely implausible things that he they saw or did.  His latest is that he sees eagles everywhere.  Not just birds that he thinks are eagles, imaginary eagles.  Each sighting is described to me in detail, and verified by Goose.  “It landed in the back yard, RIGHT Goose?!” or “It flew by our window and looked in, RIGHT Goose?!”.  She blindly agrees, regardless of whether she was looking in the right direction, or even in the room with him.

At first I passed this off with a little bit of hero worship from a little sister to big brother, until I started to notice that he’s doing it to others too.  Last night Willy came downstairs and told me that Woo was having a quiet time before he slept.  I knew that this should not be so as woo had not had a nap yesterday, and usually face plants at 7:00pm on “no nap” days, but Willy he reported that Woo insisted he was not tired and told him so.  Fast forward twenty minutes and Woo is melting down because he so tired, and I am wondering how he ever convinced Willy, who is pretty good at detecting tiredness, that he wasn’t.  It’s not the first time that he has gotten his way with Willy in this manner.  He also does it to his babysitter, who he regularly gets to let him do crazy things, or have special treats by saying, with authority, “My mom lets me…” I keep telling them and myself that he is only four!  What happens when he starts to work it on me?!

We buy a lot of secondhand everything for the littles. Usually what happens is I bring the stuff home and sort it. Stuff that can be used now gets put into circulation, and anything that is too big or to be saved for a gift is packed away and stored. I bought one of these items shortly after Woo was born. It was a little tool box that was filled with play doh toys, or so I thought. It was tied together and I trusted that was what was inside. Woo was about six months old at the time, so I packed it away until he was old enough.

Fast forward two and a half years, his third birthday is approaching. So I go and get this little box and opened it up just to clean it out. I really wanted to make sure that there were no old hard old play doh bits inside and, and that no toys that were too sharp or not really pay doh toys. I then wrapped it up and we gave it to him at his party. He loved it and played with it pretty much nonstop for several weeks after he got it. It still gets dragged out on a fairly regular basis, and he and Goose now play with it together. We’ve never had to add anything to it, the toys inside were perfect for their play doh play. It really is one of my best consignment finds!

One of the toys inside was this little tree…

It’s really not a great play doh toy as there is not much that you can do with it. The lils seem to play with it often enough, but it is pretty much an accessory to their other creations. We really thought nothing on it until one day Willy held it up like this:

Then took it apart and I really looked at it…

We’re dirty birds, so we laughed and laughed, and then laughed some more. We are now thinking that maybe it should have been taken out of the tool box on that initial cull. Of course it never fails that either Goose or Woo go looking for the “tree” whenever the box gets brought out, and as they play, it never gets assembled anymore.