Goodbye Freedom

It's official. School is over for another year.
It has been more than 10 years since I have sat in a classroom, longer since June signalled the end of another school year and the beginning of summer freedom.
Yet here I am, saddened school is over, not for the kids who will enjoy a summer of fun, but for the idea that in eight short weeks - we all know how fast summer disappears - my guy will be heading off to school.
How did this happen? How did my baby turn into a school-age boy already?
Time has had a funny way of speeding up since my guy has appeared in my life and while I have embraced - and enjoyed - all the ages and all the stages, I am scared and sad about this new chapter called school.
The part of me who still mourns the end of summer at the close of the Labour Day weekend is sad for the start of school and the end of freedom for my son.

How Did this Happen?

Friday we register our son for kindergarten.

How is it that our little guy is at the age where he is going to school?

When I first realized our three-year-old will be getting on the school bus like the “big kids”, I was so sad. While I acknowledged he was likely ready to go mentally, there were a list of things he still isn’t able to do and a whole bunch of things I hadn’t yet taught him.

While he can get dressed himself, he can’t zip up his coat and he still puts his shoes on backwards. While he knows to stop at the edge of the road and look both ways before he crosses, we still need to work on letting other people talk despite having something important to say.

He still likes to nap. We leave the house at 6:10 a.m. This works out because he has at least a two-hour nap during the day. His kindergarten is all day every day. My poor guy is going to be tired.

And then there is school itself.

When my stepdaughter lived with us, it seemed like each week she was asking for money – school trips, fundraisers, pizza lunch.

My guy doesn’t get a lot of stuff. We don’t go to the grocery store and buy him a treat. On our recent Belleville trip, we went into many stores – toy, hobby, book – and he saw many things he wanted but he didn’t get anything.

But the school system seems to not only want your money, but makes you feel pressure to give your child everything because everyone else is doing it.

I suppose I will cross the money issue when it comes but I am feeling better about kindergarten readiness as two friends both told me the children don’t have to be completely self-sufficient, that there are parents in the classroom who help out.

So while I will be a little sad that my guy is starting a new chapter in his life, it will also be exciting to watch this little boy grow up to be an even bigger boy.

Nighttime Ride

Last night my husband and I went for a quick motorcycle ride after the baby was asleep.

For the record, his 19-year-old sister was at home listening for any sound from his bedroom.

I really haven’t been on the Harley since the summer before I was pregnant. My husband tells me he thinks of that summer often.

We went out almost every weekend and did several great trips. He figures my motorcycle riding days are done.

They aren’t done, they are postponed until after the boy decides hanging out with friends is more important than mom and dad or when mom and dad can leave the boy to hang out by himself for a couple of hours.

Or when mom is able to leave baby in the capable hands of the Nana and Papa or for the weekend. Sadly, for Nana and Papa at least, I am not there yet.

Happy Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day to my Dad, who always put his family first.

My Dad worked long hours to ensure his family was provided for, but always was there for us.

My Dad was the 6 a.m. hockey practise guy, the scout leader, the science project helper, the times table man (damn those times tables), the tobogganing hero, the camp master, the marshmallow roaster, the mosquito catcher, the spider killer, the eating-in-front-of-the-TV champion, the bike teacher, the motorcycle rider, the confidence booster, the apartment mover, the thinker, the devil’s advocate.

My Dad was never afraid to show how much he loves us. I have always known my Dad stood proudly by my side. And I stand proudly beside his. I love you.
Love Lisa


To my husband who has returned to diapers 18 years later.

Happy Father’s Day. I love that our son lights up when he hears your voice and sees your face. I love when you play together in the bathtub, wrestle on the bed and laugh over meals.

I am excited to watch our son grow together.
Happy Father’s Day.
Love Lisa