This is what a feminist writes like:

I have the weirdest flu thing going on.  I am headachey (you know, I don't quite have a full on headache but my brain hurts and my skull feels creaky), and my stomach feels like I drank too much tea, and I can't sleep (like I need less sleep!). It sucks.

I have been addicted to Ian Foster's CD Through the Wires lately.  It's driving me nuts, but in a good way. You know how some music is good for background, other stuff is good for keeping your monkey mind occupied so you can concentrate on the task at hand, and then other stuff crawls in your ear, fills up the grooves in your brain and makes it impossible to do other things while you are listening to it?  Yeah, Ian's CD is the last kind.  It's superfantastic but I've gotta listen in small doses because everything is a multi-task these days.

I'm reading Shannon Patrick Sullivan's The Dying Days , and I LOVE IT!  Usually I dive right into books but I'm wading in slowly because the ideas are so new, and the premise so interesting that I can't bear to think of reaching the end. - Isn't it funny how some books it is a compliment to finish them as quickly as possible and others it is a compliment to savour them?  Different kinds of good, is all.

I'm hoping to find a lot of writing time tomorrow, so if you happen to find some lying around your house, could you email it to me? Thanks!

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I mean, otherwise I have no explanation for missing the past two weeks entirely.

Seriously though, I picked up some unexpected contract work last week and it just ate my whole week. Then this week I was playing catch-up. And I'm still playing. I've decided I hate catch-up.

And I don't have a lot to say right now either, but the longer I don't post the more of a THING it becomes and the more I feel that I have to make some brilliant revelations when I do get around to posting. So this pathetic little post is actually a gateway drug to posting again daily.

For various reasons (having little or nothing to do with personal motivations, frankly), I have signed up to both facebook and myspace this week. If you are on either of those services and you want me to add you as a friend, email me. If I know you, I'll add you. Apparently I am an anti-social social network participant.

I've hit on the exact thing that drives me craziest about my current gig.

My kids are unreasonable.

So you're reading this and thinking, 'that's not news!' Ah, but the details, the specifics, that's what makes it news. Or at least news to me.

Some days, wrangling the two of them is like the kind of job evaluation that makes me pull my hair out, there's no grey area, I'm either getting a pass or a fail and I get no credit for work in progress, for what I am trying to do. Not getting any credit for the stuff I'm working on is crazymaking for me under any circumstances, but in this one it is even tougher because once I *do* complete the task at hand, it is likely to be the wrong thing.

Witness Wednesday as I'm making supper. TLG is saying, 'juice, juice, juice, please' over and over again as I am trying to get him juice, hold him on one hip (the last request was 'up, up,up, please - at least he is polite) and make supper at the same time. Then The Boy flops into the kitchen (5 is all about the floppiness around here - oh, floppiness and frustration, don't forget his frustration with the incompetence of the universe) and starts asking for a snack. I tell him he can have three crackers, but that I have supper on and it will be ready soon. The frustration kicks in and he squeals 'but I want to eat now', I remind him about the crackers, he squeals again and says ' I just want something to eat' in the manner of a person who has been trapped in a cave for weeks.

So, there I am: Offering one child a snack, and the other some juice but the snack kid is distracting me from a) getting his snack and b) finishing making supper, the juice kid is sitting on my hip, which is keeping me from getting his juice speedily and slowing down supper preparations. And they are both annoyed at me, even as they impede me from helping them. And once I do get the juice, it is the wrong kind. And the crackers are NOT what TB was hoping for. If you had a boss like that, you'd quit. Or make a voodoo doll.

I just want some points for trying, I want them to notice that I am working on their requests and give me enough time to complete them. Of course, I would also like a beach vacation and that's not happening either.

Meanwhile, they're lucky they're cute, or some days I'd have them sold to their grandparents (I've promised the grandparents first dibs if I sell the kids - wouldn't want them going to someone who wouldn't take care of them, after all).

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It bugs the crap out of me when people ask me why Women's Day exists, when they say we live in a post-feminist world, that women are equal so we should shut up whining.

For the most part, I am happy to use this day to celebrate women, how far we've come, the achievements we've made, the difference we make. And I always host a celebratory dessert party around this time, just for that purpose.

But that doesn't mean I think all is good now. No, Ma'am.

Some points:

When my husband cuts someone off in traffic, he's one asshole. If I do it, I'm a typical woman driver. A lot of people still make individual women carry the flag for the whole gender. Denying us the right to be individual assholes - that's a women's issue.

When I tell people that I am home with my children, my opinions are often dismissed (or I should say, people TRY to dismiss them. It's best not to attempt to dismiss me, it ends badly for you.) A lot of people still can't equate mother and thinking person and that's a women's issue.

When my friend went to her doctor for her 6 week postpartum appointment, the doctor told HER HUSBAND it was okay to have sex now. He didn't say it was dependent on how she was feeling, or direct the information to her, he told her husband. Because this sort of crap is not uncommon - that's a women's issue.

Women who are blogging about their lives are dismissed as having nothing important to say while men who are listing their conquests or complaining about their jobs are called edgy and interesting. Women's experiences are apparently less valuable - that's a women's issue.

Teenagers are being taught that sexuality is the only real social currency. They're all being reduced to body parts (boys AND girls) - that's a women's issue.

There are places all over the world where women are seen as less. Less deserving of care, less deserving of jobs, less deserving of protection under the law. Just less. That's a women's issue.

And I'll tell you what I want. I want the right to not feel afraid to walk alone after dark. I want to know I have been heard. I want to be free of the burden of representing my whole gender. I want my opinions to be as important to the world as my husband's. I want my sons to be free to explore things traditionally seen as feminine. I want the idea of 'women's work' to disappear. I want the definition of a 'real' woman (and a 'real' man) to expand to encompass whatever an individual woman or man wants to do. I want fairness, and real equality, in a run-of-the-mill, garden-variety, everyday way - not just in a formal on-paper-but-not-in-practice sort of way.

Like the saying goes 'women's rights are human rights'. And by extension 'women's issues are human issues' - stuff for us all to be concerned about.

Here's the real thing, the crux of the whole issue for me and feminism and Women's Day: Women aren't special cases. There's not 'average' and then female. Women are people and until we are ALL treated as such, we need feminism and we need Women's Day.

For more information on how far we have to go, click on "New Federal Policies Affecting Women's Equality Reality Check" at the CRIAW website. Or look at this information from the National Association for Women and the Law. Both of these links are culled from a December entry on Ann Douglas' Mother of All Blogs.

PS - Happy Birthday to Kevin, a man who gets it. I can't think of a better man to be born on Women's Day.

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So, I said I would put up an entry unless there was a crisis. There was a minor crisis, but it was not personal, it was something I had to help someone else with but it still drained my energies as crises tend to. But anyway, on with the show...

I've really been feeling crowded the past couple of days. In my former life, I was rather claustrophobic and I still dislike being surrounded by a crowd, breathing in warm air, or having strangers sit close to me (I have so much fun on the bus, can't you tell?).

Naturally when I became a mother I had to get over a lot of my claustrophobia - babies do like to invade your personal space - and most of the time I'm fine. But there are still times when I desperately need a few inches of space or I fear that my head will explode, and TLG is not so big on the concept of personal space.

And for the last couple of days, he has been sleeping poorly (yes, even MORE poorly than usual) and he has been cranky and he has wanted all Mommy all the time. Even when he is sleeping.

Normally he just falls asleep with me holding him or nursing him * and then I can put him in bed and go on with my evening. The last few nights he has woken up upon being placed in bed and would only go back to sleep on my lap. And the same goes for naps. And if I try to get up in the night to use the bathroom, he wakes up and protests (apparently there are many situations where Daddy will JUST NOT DO!).

Soooo, basically, since Sunday, I have had very little time away from The Little Guy, and I am not referring to TIME AWAY as in me out of the house. I mean there have literally only been a few hours when he has not been touching me. It's like having a newborn! I'm all touched out.

So if you happen to see me wandering the streets encased in a plastic bubble, you know why.

*Don't waste your breath telling me that that is my problem, that he doesn't know how to put himself to sleep. I've tried other stuff and this is my only workable solution, I do need *some* sleep after all.

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For some reason the other day I dug out my copy of The Ghosts That Haunt Me, the first Crash Test Dummies album (ahem, CD) and me and the boys have been listening to it a lot. *

The whole album brings up good feelings for me. The Man and I listened to it a lot when we were first going out. We took my sister Neece to see CTD in concert at the Thompson Student Centre in 1992. I loved to listen to the CD when I was studying because it kept the squiggly parts of my brain busy so I could concentrate on the material at hand. And the colour of that CD is still referred to as 'crashtestdummiesgreen' in our circle of friends and it is how we identify one of the categories in this singing game (called Encore) that we play sometimes .

The lyrics of the title song bring up the best feelings though, because they belong to the past and the present.

As you may recall, right before The Man and I started our unholy union I was going out with a troglodyte who treated me badly. And it took me a long time to get past the damage that relationship did, especially the damage to my self-esteem because I blamed myself for not escaping sooner, for putting up with the garbage for so long. And I can remember driving to university with The Man, singing along with The Ghosts that Haunt Me...

'Cause you're so kind
I know you would not mind
You'd send away the ghosts that haunt me now
And the things I fear
Just wouldn't seem so near
And when I stroll out late at night
There would be nothing rattling at my heels

And demons come to plague me as I lie in bed
But I know if you were sleeping there beside me then
That you could fend them off and they would let me rest

Thinking that if I did get to sleep beside The Man it would definitely rid me of my demons, that he could save me from beating myself up over the past. I mean, ultimately I knew I would have to heal myself, but I knew that The Man was going to be a crucial part of the process.

And listening to the song this week, when I have been lucky enough to have The Man sleeping beside me** for over 10 years now, I remembered thinking about how nice it would be to have him there. And it is every bit as wonderful as I imagined it would be.

No ghosts dare haunt me now.

*By the way, if you like to keep your brain un-bent, don't try to explain to a 5 year old what the phrases 'there's a skeleton in everybody's closet' and 'the ghosts that haunt me now' mean. It's just too convoluted.

** Well, not beside me, that's where TLG sleeps, but The Man is there too.

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A while ago I found my MA thesis online. It was about gender and use of household space among the Thule and in September it will be 8 years since I finished, earning myself the right to use M.A. after my name. It seemed really important to me at the time, but now it just seems rather pretentious. Even though I worked damn hard for those letters.

When I was struggling with the enormous project (my thesis is 244 pages long including my references cited and appendices etc and it took me 4 years from starting the program to submitting my finished document)and totally unable to break it down into workable pieces (that whole forest and trees problem I keep bringing up) it seemed like I would never finish, that I would spend my life feeling like a failure because I couldn't manage to wrap my brain around a to do list. Then a lovely woman in Ottawa named Lynda Gullason sent me some references that I had asked for and a little note that said 'this too shall pass'. I clung to that like it was the last piece of my ship.

This too shall pass.

And you know, it did.

Now it seems like it was someone else who lived in Winnipeg, and struggled with her thesis, and finally wrestled it to the ground (and quickly had it bound - ha!). And that feels good.

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Dr. Seuss* would have been 103 today. In honour of his birthday, I am not just going to whine about only getting 2.5h sleep last night (damn 2 year molars!) - I am going to whine in the style of Fox in Sox.

Night and dark comes.

Night and sleep comes.

Night with dark and sleep and rest comes.

Look, sir. Look, sir.

Little Guy, sir.

Let's not wake all night and day sir.

Night's not time to fight or play, sir.

First, let's try a neat deep sleep trick.

Then let's try a neat deep nap trick.

You can learn a neat deep sleep trick.

You can learn a neat deep nap trick.

And here's a new trick, My Delight…

Nights we sleep

And sleep so tight.

Nights we might

just sleep, that's right!

Sleep 'till light!

That's right for night.

*Did you know that is supposed to be pronounced Soice (like voice)? Me neither! Oh, what's that? YOU knew? Fine! Show-off!

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Thing the first: Check out my new column at The Whole Mom, it's called Infiltrating the Ranks ('cause I'm a spy in the house of boys, baby!*).

Thing the second: I am going against every piece of goal setting advice I have ever received or given and I am trying to overhaul my life for the next month. I have a number of things that I have been trying to get going with but I keep stalling out. So I am going to knock myself out in March and make some real progress.

One of these things is writing in my weblog more. Sooooo, that means that barring disaster, you are going to see an entry every day this month. Yes, you read that right - every day. I've only managed that once before, in November of 2003 and if I remember correctly, it was a lot of fun. But the entries were pretty short, not my usual think-y pieces. I'm not sure how this is going to pan out this time, if I am going to do a mix or a lot of fluff but let's see how it goes, huh? I have a lot of things I want to do with this website and I'm hoping to make some real headway over the next couple of months, and getting back into the habit of writing here should help.

And in the interest of making this more like a real entry, I'll tell you a story about The Little Guy. I'm trying to wean him completely (he hasn't nursed in the daytime since October - but he still asks!) so our rule is that he can't nurse until he is in his pajamas and ready for bed. Yesterday, while I was making supper, he came over with his pajama pants in hand and said he wanted to put his pj pants on (well, he doesn't talk that much, he said his name and 'mants' - his word for pants). So I unwittingly helped him on with his 'mants' and then a few minutes later he brought his shirt, and I put that on for him. Then he smiled his killer smile and shouted 'MILK! YES!'.

For the record, I didn't fall for it. But I have to commend his efforts.

Oh, and in other news, I'm a jerk. I should have included Jen from MUBAR in my list of thinking bloggers. It's just that she, like me, doesn't post as often as she once did, and she hadn't posted in a while when I made up my list. Anyway, Jen is a lovely sort of think-y blogger, passionate, and caring, with just the right amount of edge. When she is on the case with an issue, she is ON THE CASE.

*Bonus points to anyone who has Was (Not Was) stuck in their head right now.

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The lovely and talented Dani, of Postcards from the Mothership has named me as a Thinking Blogger. Calling me a thinker is paying me the highest kind of compliment. I am both thrilled an honoured to be included in her list.

And I am supposed to pass on the honour by naming 5 blog posts that really get me thinking. Boy, that's kind of a hard one. Especially since Andrea has already been nominated. I read a fair number of blogs, but I usually read them for company rather than for the challenge. And I don't want to insult anyone, or anything like that. And the posts that make me think might not be the type that make other people think. And now that I've said think so many times, I'm going to say it again. I think I'll follow Dani's example and pick blogs that make me think, in general, as well as picking specific posts.

So here we go, in no particular order:

1) Ann Douglas' One Woman, One Blog. I usually manage to be out of the loop on politics in general but Ann keeps me informed on the issues I really care about. Reading her blog makes me wish I had more time to devote to more causes.

2) Dawn Friedman's This Woman's Work. First off, how could you not love a blog called This Woman's Work? I mean, really! The entry I've linked to here is typical of Dawn's thinky-ness, she's just pouring her brain onto the screen and figuring it out as she goes. In this case she is describing how she reconciles a bad experience from her teenage years in which she wasn't exactly a victim, but not at all capable of making a good decision to participate.

3) Trudy Morgan-Cole's Hypergraffiti. Trudy's blog is a rocking melange of scenes from her family's life, balanced with thinky entries about huge questions about life, the universe and everything. I don't know how she keeps all those big thoughts in one brain.

4) Marla! Marla! Marla! Marla pretends to be all casual, fun blogger-dame, but her posts are always jam-packed with meaning and her photos are so beautiful and I just feel like she is really, really, really LIVING, you know? She always makes me think, even when she is posting about 'cat issues'.

5) Tina. Betcha didn't think you'd make this list, didya, my self-deprecating friend? Tina is always thinking, thinking about everything from Entertainment Tonight, to personal development, to politics. She's just so damn well-informed, I feel like a bumpkin when she starts talking current affairs.

Hmm, that wasn't as hard as I thought!

Tune in later this week for a post called 'On the clock' - see I *am* trying to post more often!

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My friend's father's funeral was this week. He was a lovely man, lots of fun, and even though his teasing was annoying when I was a kid, I can now see how incredibly clever it was. He'll be sadly missed, even by me, and I hardly ever saw him these days. But the story of how lovely he was is not mine to tell, his story belongs to him and his family.

My mom and I went to his funeral on Thursday and, as usual, I was horrified by the lesson of one of the stories the priest used to "comfort" the grieving family.

Detour: I don't usually like church weddings or funerals because the churches I've been to can't seem to strike a balance between the rites of the church and the needs of the families. I recognize that there are specific things that need to be done within the church rites, but I fail to understand why those ceremonies cannot be elaborated on to comfort or celebrate the families involved*.

And I also recognize that the church ceremonies are there for the church, not the families, in that they are designed to be acknowledgements of a birth, a marriage or a death in the eyes of the church (and god) rather than a customized event for the specific families. But that being said, I think there is room to include both. I don't think it would be difficult to allow people who want just the church ceremony to have that and to let people who want a eulogy at a funeral, or a reading from a favorite author included in their wedding to have those things without denigrating the church rites. I think that being open like that would help more people reconcile their modern lives with the more traditional aspects of the church's practices. End Detour **.

Back to the story of the story:

One of the priest's stories was lovely, about a writer in the early 20th century who was watching a lamplighter do his work in the distance. The writer couldn't see the actual lamplighter himself, but could see the trail of lights he left behind him as he worked, and the writer commented to his friend that that was how a Christian should be, that even if the Christian wasn't seen people should know he or she had been there by the light he or she left behind. And the priest then said that my friend's dad was like the lamplighter, that we could see the lights he had left behind him.

The point of the other story was horrible. It was about a priest in a concentration camp who was surrounded by grey and then early one morning, on the distant horizon he saw a light from a farmhouse and he was reminded of scriptures about how god sometimes puts us into darkness so we can see that he is the light. And while I could see that the priest's faith that he was undergoing a test of sorts would help him in his situation I could not understand what the funeral priest said next: that god had put my friend's family into grief so they could see that he was the light.

Leaving aside my issues with the gender of a divine being, and even the existence of same***, I think that was a horrible thing to say to a grieving family. I can't imagine that a being of divine goodness would behave like that, tearing away a beloved father and husband just to test his family. And even if you believe that, I don't think telling a family that at the funeral is a comforting or strengthening thing to say.

My mom and I disagreed on the story, she felt that it wasn't meant to be taken literally. She's anglican and was taught that stories told in church were meant for interpretation. I was catholic, and I was taught that things were as they are written. Add to that my belief that words have incredible power, so you should choose them carefully, and you end up with a person (me!) who thinks that churches and ministers need to take more responsibility for what they are saying to families in their grief and in their celebrations.

My dismay with the priest doesn't even begin to cover the frustrations of this funeral for this family. The organist at the church they chose got all uppity with them and switched carefully chosen music around, dismissed their cousin who was supposed to play for the service, and then to make matters worse, she flounced around the church in a snit during the service.

This sort of thing does not bring families into the fold, it alienates people who, if they had been given comfort, might have joined this church community and helped it thrive.

Rest in Peace, G. You will be remembered.

*Perhaps the church leaders here are a little too hung up on the specifics rather than the spirit of the rites, perhaps this is less true elsewhere.

** Added on Feb 27 - I said segue originally, but I didn't MEAN segue, I meant detour.

***I believe there is a power greater than us, but I don't want anyone to tell me how to define it, and I'll do you the favour of not telling you how to either. I have a huge respect for people's personal relationships with religion, and with the good work that churches in general do, but I hate the 'you don't believe because you don't know any better' thing that some people espouse. Personally, I think people should follow Trudy's example. She demonstrates gracefully how religion can be central to your life without having to condemn others for their beliefs.

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My parents gave me a much-desired heart rate monitor for Christmas this year, but between illness and busy-ness, I haven't had a chance to use it until today. And that's how I discovered why the exercise I do hasn't been helping me to lose weight (and let's not even discuss my lousy eating habits - that's a different matter entirely). I apparently suck at 'perceived exertion' because I have hardly ever been exercising in my target heart rate zone. I might hit it for 3 or 4 minutes per exercise session - when I get around to exercising that is. And that is no way to lose weight or get in shape.*

I think this is part of my bigger problem with judging how hard I'm working. I can't seem to tell when enough's enough, so I either drive myself batty trying to get stuff done, or I slack off entirely. I think my trees and forest problem** is chronic, I can manage it for a while, but it eventually comes back. So I'm either gleefully hacking away at trees left right and centre, and planning to hack more tomorrow. Or I'm lying under one of the trees bemoaning my fate, eating salt and vinegar chips and longing to watch some Stargate.

I wonder if they make brain-rate monitors so I can judge when I'm working hard enough at the rest of my life?

*And it is actually the get-in-shape part that matters to me, since I'm not really caught up in the numbers on the scale. But I do know I need to lose some weight to get in shape.

**It's not that I can't see the forest for the trees, it's that I forget that the giant, looming forest is made of individual trees.

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...and even though I'm Canadian, I feel the need to comment on it.

Lots of bloggers seem to have posted on the topic, but for me the most moving is a post from Julia at Uncommon Misconception. A few years ago, Julia had to make the difficult choice to end her pregnancy when she found out about a condition her son Thomas was suffering from, one that would cause him constant pain for the short life he would lead.

I'm not going to discuss circumstances like hers, because I don't think there should be a debate there. Her choice was agonizing, and only she (and her husband) could make it. Anyone who thinks they have the right to oppose that decision are terribly, terribly wrong, and, in my opinion, cruel beyond measure.

The ab*rtion debate I'm weighing in on is the one concerning unwanted/crisis pregnancies. Where it is *possible* for the woman to carry to term, but she may not want to, for whatever reason.

I recognize that ab*rtion is a complicated issue. And, luckily, it is not one that I have had to face personally. But because it is such a complicated issue, the choice needs to remain, always, in the hearts of the people facing it. A woman faced with an unplanned pregnancy needs to have the ability to make the choice that is the best for her.

It cannot be decided by governments, nor by her church, nor by any other governing body. And ideally her choice should be made in agreement with her partner. But if agreement with her partner is not possible, then the choice should be hers. Pregnancy is hard work, even a healthy, easy pregnancy takes a huge toll. No one should be forced to undertake that work if they do not choose to.

It is easy to speak in the abstract, to say, 'Well, it's his baby too' or 'But all babies deserve a chance' but on the ground it is a lot more difficult. We are talking about a woman having to turn her body over to someone else for long time, and having to deal with the hormonal and physical changes of pregnancy, and childbirth. And even if she decides to give up her child for adoption, there can be longlasting psychological effects for both mother and child.

People may say things like 'Ab*rtion stops a beating heart' but I think that is only one aspect of the issue at hand. A while ago, I read something on Judith Stadtman Tucker's Mothers Movement Online that really summed things up for me. To paraphrase, it said that while the embryo/fetus is alive, the woman is living and that the author would choose the living over the alive.

So,for me, the whole situation, the needing to make a choice, is incredibly sad. But if a choice must be made, control over that choice needs to be in the hands of the woman who will be affected by the consequences of that choice.

Ideally, I'd like see the development of better birth control, and increased access to that birth control for women of all economic groups so the issue of ab*rtion regarding unwanted pregnancies could become essentially moot.

And like the bumper sticker says - "Opposed to ab*rtion? Well, don't have one!"

Yes, I AM wimping out here by putting the asterisk in ab*rtion. I don't want to attract any crazies. And NO I don't mean that people who disagree with me are crazy. But this topic tends to attract real nutbars.

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I want to write more, but I don't think I'm ready to prioritize it enough to be hugely successful. I do okay now, I have a few contracts and a few articles here and there, but I know I could really do well if I just focused on my writing. But in order to do that I would have to sacrifice some other things and I'm not really prepared to do that.

I'm not even sure what I would give up. More of the time I have with the boys? Time with the Man? Work with my theatre company? Work on AAMP? My extremely limited time off?

I know lots of people can pull it off, they can make time for their writing and honour that. And I know I won't get too far with it until I can do the same, but I'm not ready. And I'm not ready to enter writing contests and have my work judged, and I'm not ready to seek out funding for my writing. That time is coming, but the time is not now.

I think of myself as in a sort of cocoon right now, working on all the things I will be and will do, but now unfurling my wings just yet. It's not just a matter of confidence either, I know I will have to learn to accept more critique of my work, and I know my work will be better for it. And it is not a matter of procrastination, I'm not putting things off for no reason. I honestly feel that now is not the time to immerse myself in my work to the degree I need to in order to be a success.

So I'll just keep plugging a way at it in my own small way, balancing it (with moderate success) with my other commitments, and trust that I'll know in my gut when the time is right. My gut rarely steers me wrong, so I'll leave this with it too.

What does this mean for my blog and my articles and my plays and my stories? Not much. I'm still going to plug away at them (with moderate success) when I am so inclined, but I'm not going to worry too much about it. I'm just going to sit with my various projects for a while, take them as far as feels right and just be at peace with that.

Oh, and for a change I have a couple of "my kids are cute" moments to share:

1) Yesterday, The Boy, who is a reading maniac, read the cover of the book I was reading as 'Kids, Parents and Power Snuggles'. I think we would all be better off with some power snuggling, don't you?

2) The Little Guy's vocab is moving in leaps and bounds and this morning he sat on the floor and patted the carpet next to him, asking me to sit down (I can't begin to transcribe the sound he makes for sit down) and then said 'Ma? Play?' Resistance was futile. Play! What a great new word for him to have today.

Oh and in other news, it is Trudy's son Christopher's birthday! Happy Birthday, Christopher! I hope it's a great one.

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Thanks to Marla's marvelous - wait, I'm coining an new expression here - Thanks to a Marlavelous suggestion, I've been reading Kids, Parents and Power Struggles by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka and it is brilliant. Not only does it reaffirm my belief in my own parenting style (i.e. listen to them, try to figure out where they are coming from, and figure out a solution that works for everyone) but it has given me some insight into my own temperament.

See, I have always thought that my reluctance to try new things, my need to preplan for a variety of possible outcomes, and my struggle to balance feelings and facts were all character flaws, or things I should just get over. Now that I've read Kurcinka's book I realize that these are just character traits, preferences based on my temperament. Sure, I need to 'get over' them to some extent so I can function more easily in the world. But I should also honour those aspects of my personality, to say 'I prefer to stick with what is comfortable, but I want to try this new thing. How can I increase my comfort level enough to try it?'

One of the things that I find interesting about parenting is how much it has taught me about myself, how it is not just my sons who are developing as we go along, I am too. I wasn't a bad person to start with, but being Mommy has made me into a far better one.

I am a lucky dame.

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I had planned on writing an entry of New Year's resolutions on January 2nd (see how reasonable I'm being with myself? No plans to be all industrious on the New Year's Day.) but that didn't work out.

Instead, I've been sick since the new year. I've gone through a mild cold, the flu, a massive throat infection and a week-long headache. The Man had strep throat and went to Colorado for the better part of a week. The Boy was sick from Xmas to New Year's then went back to school and caught a cold. The Little Guy is on his second illness of the year.

Anyway, I'm crawling out from under it all now and I should be back to writing and commenting and thinking any day now. Hopefully tomorrow.

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I'm sure I'm supposed to have some pithy summary of the year, perhaps encapsulate the whole thing in a few charming, witty sentences and be done with it. But this has been a challenging year and it is going to take more than that.

I had huge plans for this year. Well not huge. Relatively large,but still perfectly reasonable. Perfectly reasonable for someone who doesn't have two kids.

That's where I falter, see? I know what I am capable of personally, but I still haven't figured out how to account for the interruptions and changes of plans that are inherent in raising two small boys. Often those interruptions and changes of plans are lovely in themselves but it can be disheartening to see how few of my ideas I was able to bring to fruition. And to make matters worse, I think I am getting less sleep now than I was last year. That makes it hard to keep a positive spin on things.

Yet, when I think back on this year I'm not struck by all the things I didn't get done, although I am aware of them, I am struck by all sorts of wonderful moments.

- The huge grin that TLG puts on when he climbs where he shouldn't,

- TB's look of pride when he demonstrates his new-found reading abilities,

- the sound of The Man's voice in the dark when we happen to both be awake enough for one of those late night conversations I enjoyed so much before sleep became such a valuable commodity,

- the satisfaction I felt when I finished the seminar I ghost-wrote on a topic I had never heard of before,

- how wonderful it felt those times when I could dial down my stress, take a deep breath, and focus on what my kids needed from me instead of just reacting to their behaviour.

Learning to navigate the needs of two kids while tending to my own has made this year a challenge, especially since the kids' needs have changed so much month to month, but it has also been amazing. I feel like I have learned so much about myself and about the boys, and about my marriage and I am deeply satisfied with than knowledge. It's not easy, but it is profoundly good.

Before I had my kids, I had no idea how much I would grow with them. I am so moved by the experience of sharing their lives that I am a better person than I was before they came. Because I want them to mimic my good behaviours, not my bad, I'm learning to take it easy, not to put so much pressure on myself, and to deal with frustration in a healthier way. I don't always succeed, but I am working on it.

So in 2006, I didn't work on all the things I thought I would.

- I'm not in much better shape physically (I was supposed to exercise 3h per week, and I did most weeks, but I didn't change my eating habits so there hasn't been a big difference over all).

- I didn't freewrite for 4 hours a month (although I did do a nice bit of writing).

- I didn't review 50 books I already owned (I read waaaay more than 50 books, but reviewing them just didn't happen - and I'm letting myself off the hook about it. Once midnight strikes tonight, I'm going to pretend I never planned to do them).

I DID, however, write 20 publishable pieces. In fact, I wrote more than 20, and I had a newspaper column for a while.

And I had more plans that I didn't share online, and I accomplished some of them, but others I did not. And I don't care.

That's it.

I officially don't care that I didn't finish everything in 2006.

In 2006 I did a lot of things that were important to me,and some things that were important to other people. I let some things that were important to me slide for the sake of my sanity. I spent a lot of time helping my kids navigate the challenges of being oneturningtwo and fourturningfive, I spent time with my husband (our tenth wedding anniversary was this year), I hung out with my friends and family and was there when they needed me.

So, I'm going to call 2006 a good year.

And tonight we are going to have our annual wear-your-pajama-pants-bring-something-to-snack-on New Year's Party.

Bring on 2007.

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