October 21, 2009 by Barbara.

Reid has been waking up early for the last while. Not earlier than me but earlier than I want to be out of my cocoon of blankets and before I want to think of more than the implications of the first sportscast of the day or the Frugalista’s latest report. One morning Reid said that she wanted to count and wanted my help. My assistance hasn’t been required for Reid to count in English in more than a year but it was early and so I played along. Reid said “1″ and pointed at me and I supplied “2″ and then she said “3″ and signalled me. We continued like this for a few more numbers and then Reid asked if I knew that it was a “patteren”. I had noticed the pattern, I said, and that she’d been saying the odd numbers and me the even ones. Reid asked the difference and I said that even numbers were divisible by 2. She nodded and said, “There are two sets of 2 in 4,” before I’d even decided how to explain “divisible” to her. I’m in such trouble if Reid grasps math concepts so much better than me.

But Malcolm Gladwell, in Outliers, taught me that math success is a matter of hard work not talent. There’s still hope for me, if I work hard enough. Of course, he also said that 10,000 hours are required to master something. Maybe Reid is the only one for whom there is real hope.

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October 19, 2009 by Barbara.

f you’d been in our house, at 6:07 this morning, you’d have heard:
Reid: Mama, I smell something. Something gooood.
Mama: Oh, what is it?
Reid: Curry sauce. (I could hear the grin and anticipation in her voice.)

Several exchanges later about any number of things, including an extended period with the bathroom lights shining directly into Ken’s eyes…

Reid: Can I wake Daddy up?
Mama: I think he is awake but you should kiss him. (When a guy has his space invaded by chatter before he has listened to the news, a kiss should be offered. Don’t you think?)

Reid had left-over curry for breakfast and was a happy camper. I hope that the smell has dissipated ’cause I don’t think there is any more and it’d be sad to have her get excited for nothing tomorrow.

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October 15, 2009 by Barbara.

A few weeks ago, Ken and I went to the parent information session at Reid’s school. Reid went to Aunty Amanda’s house for supper and the evening, a very good trade-off as far as Reid was concerned. She asked if Nam’s mom and dad would be there, too, because they make very good rice and noodles and “not-Canada” food. I supplied the word, “Asian” since she seemed to need it and assured her that Nam’s mom and dad would be there. Reid responded, “Woo hoo! Rice and noodles and rice-noodles are the best food ever.” I made a point of telling Amanda that I hoped that she wasn’t planning to have non-Asian food on Reid’s account because Reid was anticipating Asian.

At the school presentation, we were among only five (out of 16) families that turned up for the Junior-Senior Kindergarten session and were the only parents of kids in Senior Kindergarten. I never understand how people can resist the opportunity to learn more about what their kids do all day and about the people with whom they do these things. There wasn’t any earth-shattering information given, though they did tell us where to find the kids’ workbooks if ever we wanted to see what they’re doing. There were other tidbits of information and then the meeting ended.

On the way out, one of the other dads stopped us to tell us that Reid was a sweet girl who took very good care of his son, who was having trouble adjusting to JK. He said that Reid was like “a little mother hen” and he wanted us to know that he appreciated her. Sometimes Reid takes the “mother hen” role over the line to “bossy” but it’s good to know that it seems to be what is required in many situations. Ken and I decided to take it as a compliment. And a lovely one at that.

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October 12, 2009 by Barbara.

I’ve trying to think of something profound to write about for Thanksgiving but what keeps coming to my mind is the feel of  soft, polar fleece, footie pajamas, especially when worn by a certain sleepy five-year-old who cuddles into me as she sleeps. But I wouldn’t be writing this if not for Ken, who prods me to do what I love - write - even when I’m dragging my feet about getting started or re-started. Reid and Ken are at the Museum of Science and Technology for their Wheels, Wings & Waves: A Lego history of transportation exhibit and he suggested that I’d best reassure folks that I’m still alive.  Alive, I am, and grateful to him and Reid for being the fabulous people that they are.

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October 1, 2009 by Barbara.

My drafts folder holds some gems. I wrote this last October and the skies lately have brought it back to me.

One day recently, I drew Reid’s attention to the sky and said that I thought the sky was a beautiful shade of blue, just like her eyes. Reid responded, “Your eyes are the same colour as mine.” Well, that is true but it seemed a little conceited to mention that in the same breath as a statement about the beauty of the sky.

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