Posted by: Hannah | 09/17/2017


I really thought I was doing better.

I’ve been sleeping and not waking up feeling like I never even closed my eyes. I’ve been snacking less and moving more. I’ve signed up for skating lessons and gone to scary movies and taken on a new client and not gone down an “I-don’t-deserve-this” spiral when Michael insisted that I should have a laptop that isn’t quite literally held together with Tuck tape and swearing.

I took on a new client. I made eye appointments without needing to steel myself for days first. I even took the kids to their end of season baseball party and was able to successfully make small talk with other parents and I didn’t need to nap when I got home.

So I guess I am doing better, now that I put all of that down… but today felt like a big step backward and right at the moment I am awash in guilt.

When I was a kid we rarely played with our parents, you know? A whole-family activity was a rare and treasured thing. And while I’m not saying I necessarily want to go back to those times, there are days when I look at the waiting faces of my sons and wish to Christ that they would just go find something to do, some tree to climb or mudpit to dig or bike to ride or something that would take some of the pressure off of me for once.

Today was one of those days. I kept smiling through teeth clenched ever-tighter as I did laundry (none of it mine) and dishes (why must they take out a new cup every single time they need to moisten their mouths?) and vacuumed (mostly hair from the dog I never wanted) and at every stage they were there, waiting for me to be done so they could bring me new requests.

Just after lunch (which I cooked and cleaned up from) they lined up in front of me and announced that they wanted to go to a friend’s house. All three of them. Right now, please. Because said friends have all kinds of Nifty Gadgets and Cool Video Production Capability and they are working on a movie, like duh, they’ve been working on it for MONTHS and they want to finish it, mom. And I just… I couldn’t. The notion of calling up this other family and saying “hey, take my three kids for the afternoon because they’ve decided the only thing that will bring them happiness today is screen time at your house, aren’t you lucky?” just broke me, in a straw / camel’s back kind of way.

And so I lost it. I didn’t scream, I didn’t yell, but I was extremely insistent that they need to go find a thing to do in this giant house full of toys and activities or the giant yards full of same. And the more I talked the worse I felt until finally I fled the room in tears.

The thing is… my kids are good kids. They do amuse themselves a lot of the time. They play all kinds of imaginative games. They dress up and rampage through the woods behind the house. They invent board games. That movie they’ve been working on with their friends for months? is actually a real thing with a written script and a score composed by 9 year old Ron. They didn’t deserve to hear me telling them that they need to stop looking to me for entertainment just because I am having a tough weekend for reasons I haven’t yet identified.

And so… guilt. Only partly assuaged by ordering a new winter coat for George and some shirts for Harry (who has grown enormously in the past few months and thus basically needs a whole new wardrobe).

I tried playing a board game with them and now I’m trying to write. Of course George is still hovering on the fringes because he really does seem to be incapable of playing alone but soon it will be time for supper, and then evening and then bed, praise jesus, and hopefully tomorrow things will look better.



Posted by: Hannah | 03/22/2017

in which March once again kicks my ass


And every year this lasts until about mid-March, when I simply cannot take it anymore.

The fact that my annual meltdown coincides with March Break is almost certainly not a coincidence.

The last couple of years I have pushed through March Break with a combination of daily outings, ample screen time for my own kids, lots of treats and fun dinners in the evenings, and a general air of “it’s a vacation, let’s treat it like one”. It works, mostly, but it’s still exhausting.

Then on Monday morning… school was cancelled. There was a snowfall overnight and the forecast was calling for freezing rain, and so the decision was made not to send them.

It was a long day.

I had nothing planned to keep older kids amused. The weather was too crappy to play outside. The youngest dayhome kid had a streaming head cold and should have been at home resting. I had completely redone my living room the day before and just wanted a little time in the afternoon (hellooooo, naptime!) to sit quietly in it with a cup of tea but alas, it was not to be.

Then last night Ron started vomiting right before dinner. And Harry grew out of all of his clothes basically overnight so I had to take him shopping – and all the stores had summer gear only. And I woke up with a throbbing migraine and HEY GUESS WHAT NO SCHOOL AGAIN TODAY.

(Yes, it’s a previously-scheduled PD day. Yes, there is one every year the week after March Break. Yes, every year I think it’s bullshit even though I am usually #teamteacher. There is always bad weather in NS this time of year and the kids end up with one week off and then a second week all broken into bits).

So my point here is that March sucks. It suuuuuuucks. Yes, there will be the odd day – like today – when the sun comes out and the temp goes just above freezing. You can tell when it hits 5C because Canadians ditch their gloves, hats, coats – even their pants – in a desperate attempt to A) pretend that 5C is warm and winter is over and B) to soak up all the sweet sweet vitamin D they can because deep down we all know it’s just a tease. Yes, the birds will start to come back and the tulips will start poking their little green shoots up through the snow. The time change will happen so the sun doesn’t set until 7PM. These are all good things.

And yet.

This is the time of year when I could vacuum three times a day and not even make a dent because the dog & cats are all shedding their winter coats. Mittens are getting lost. Boots are getting too tight. There is enough snow on the ground that the kids need to wear snowpants but there are also mud puddles everywhere so they really ought to be in splash pants instead, and guess how waterproof snow boots aren’t? We are all tired of root vegetables and hearty comfort food but the fresh veggies are only *just* making an appearance in the stores, and those at extortionate prices.

We are just all bloody damn tired of winter, is what I’m saying, and after doing my best to jolly everyone along during January and February (and half of March) I have nothing left in the tank.

Wake me when it’s April.



Posted by: Hannah | 02/03/2017

in praise of naps

Naps are the best.

I say this as a person, a parent, and a professional childcare provider. Nothing – NOTHING – is a more effective tool in your arsenal than a nap. A nap for you will help you to be focused, patient, and productive. A nap for your kids is developmentally-necessary, plus it makes it easier for them to be pleasant and fun little people.

Ask a cat. Naps are the shit, yo.

It’s one thing I really miss about my pre-child years – the ability to just curl up on the couch with a blanket and have a nap. Last night, for example. I got off work a little early and the sun was shining, so we bundled the kids up and went sledding for an hour before dinner. We had a very simple meal (grilled cheese and Campbell’s tomato soup) and afterwards I felt so sleepy and relaxed… I plopped down in the recliner and grabbed a fuzzy blanket. I could feel that lovely heaviness spreading through my limbs. My eyelids drooped. My breathing slowed…

… and George shoved a foam dinosaur in my face while he yelled MOM I MADE A QUETZALCOATLUS, THAT’S A KIND OF PTERANODON.

… and Harry and Ron started squabbling in the kitchen about the correct way to load the dishwasher.

… and the dog started to whimper because he needed to go to the bathroom.

… and the cats started play-fighting because it’s winter and Mad Max is getting shack-wacky.

… and I knew I had to go out in the cold over icy roads to take Ron to violin lessons.

And thus I shook off the blanket and got up, and in the end I was awake bloody late again, because at bedtime I can’t stop my brain from fretting about the tangerine shit-gibbon to the south of us and end up watching TV far too late.

This of course then means that come the afternoon I’m ready for a nap again.

It makes it that much more infuriating when the littles fight their naps, lemme tell you.




Older Posts »