• just learned the joys and pains of manual labor busting up the ice. The more experienced would know to remove rings. I am bloodied and sore. #

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“Hey dad, maybe tonight we should use our flashlights and try and track down some will-o-the-whisps”.

That is what came out of Jack’s mouth over breakfast this morning. No, really.

Before that creative suggestion, he and Lucie were making strange noises and scratching under the table, then asking “what was that?!” They were trying to draw me into our family mythology.

We all have family mythologies (I hope). These are the stories we tell each other, the places and people and things we create through play. Perhaps you have a red-suited, bearded man or a giant egg-bearing bunny in your family mythology? Perhaps you have other things as well.

As we have played over the years, read stories, told stories, sang lullabies and the like, Christie and I have developed a little set of fantasy worlds of our own. And it always makes me smile when the kids want to return to them. For us they are funny little stories or nove little concepts. For the children, they are real dreams and hope and fears and adventures.

We build on our family mythology when the kids as me to sing them the “Dragon’s Keep” lullaby I made up because I couldn’t remember any good lullabies. Or when they ask Christie to sing a song about a mad scientist and a princess before they go to sleep.

There was the story about Tiny Timothy who was stuck in a garbage can, and so sad about it that his tears filled the can, letting Timmy float up and out to freedom. Then there was the scratching beast.

That scratching sound has become the greatest part of our family mythology… The Hoogerman.

This mythical beast was created over time, but began while we were on a pretend camping trip in the living room. The Hoogerman was my ghost story. A large, bear and ape cross-breed who stalks the woods and scratches on doors with giant claws. Hoogerman stories always end with “and it was …. THE HOOGERMAN!”, and the kids screaming and laughing.

Do you have a family mythology? Or did you, growing up?

A few days ago I was going crazy. I felt like a chainsaw was ripping a hole through my skull from one ear to the other. Why this madness?

The screaming of demons. At least, that’s what it sounded like (to my untrained ears). In reality, it was the screaming of my daughter Lucie. Seriously people, her scream could be fed through a PA and use as a weapon of war or torture. Except that the Geneva conventions would outlaw it as inhumane. It would have to sit beside waterboarding in the time-out corner.

Those of you with screaming children know what I mean. Those of you without cannot fathom it.

But, it’s funny how the smallest light can brighten the darkest corner.

This afternoon I had the opportunity to just work a bit while Lucie played LEGO on our coffee table. She turned to me and said, “Daddy, I made this motorhome for you”. We even hung out a bit. It was a beautiful few moments and reminded me that I love being a dad, occasional demon screams and all.

There is nothing like the sound of your child’s sweet voice saying something endearing. Something simple and small and insignificant. That small voice has put a smile on my face today, and made me glad once again to be a daddy.

Thanks Lu.

• Getting ready for a mini retreat to Safeway to get the essentials. Gas. Milk. Bread. Butter. #

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It was a lovely, sunny January afternoon. January 19th to be exact. So warm. I needed to celebrate.

Christie had gone out to do some studying and work for her training, and so it was me and the kids. A Sunday afternoon with the sun shining down enticed me to go for a long walk to Mandolin Books. I went into the garage and fished out the neglected running stroller. It has just been too cold to walk much the past few weeks.

The kids were excited. One had come with me to Mandolin Books and Coffee before, one had not. This was going to be a real “daddy date”. A real pleasure. One of those moments my kids will look back and write about in their memoirs when they are telling of how great a father I was to them.

The walk was a bit more difficult than anticipated, but I trudged through the mountains of snow and uncleared sidewalks. That’s what this stroller was built for! It is the Hummer of the stroller world. The “Chariot” was finally getting it’s day to show off its skills.

Unfortunately, one of those skills is being huge. So we got to Mandolin Books and Coffee, and I remembered just how tiny the place is. Especially when it is full. Shoot. The stroller fit in the door, so I unloaded the kiddies, wheeled it in, and watch it start to melt black goop onto the floor of the coffee shop. I began to feel everyone was watching me as I struggled with the step-by-step process of making this monstrosity slightly smaller through a series of folds. But not small enough. Where was I going to stash this thing? I moved it from spot to spot, trying not to block any paths, but with the place jammed with coffee connoisseurs, it was no use. I decided to retreat and move the beast back outside. I’d stash it beside the door and hope no one with a penchant for stroller theft noticed. Worst part was, if I was leaving it outside anyways, I hadn’t needed to fold it.

A half hour passed leisurely as the kids and I enjoyed apple ciders and large photography books. I felt a bit like the super dad I know exists deep down in me somewhere. But little did I know, he was about to hibernate.

We packed up to leave, needing to head for home to make supper for a reasonable time. It would get darker and colder soon. The kids waited while I reassembled their ride. While I tried to unfold what I had folded. And then tried again. The stroller was wet and slippery. The ground was icy. The brake had not been put on (entirely my fault). It wheeled wildly about as I tried to pop things into place. No go. The kids played – a little too close to the road – while I fought the beast. I bent and twisted. I pulled a popped. I threw metal and canvas into the air and hoped it fell into the right places. It did not. 15 full minutes later, we walked back into the store. How would we get home? The kids could not make the walk. The sun was now dissappearing. Visions of dinner were fading as I revised my gandiose plans time and again. This wonderful walk was becoming a horrid mistake. I called home for rescue, but Christie was still out. I thought and thought. There would be no rescue. I prayed. I regained my compusre and psyched up for round two.

Leaving the kids in the bookstore to browse, I went back to face my opponent. He came out of his corner weaker than before, and after a few moments, through grit and determination, I wore him down. The Chariot was back in form with only one excruciating blow to my pinched pinky finger. Cold, tired and worn, I collected my children and began the long walk home into the sunset.

Next time, I am not folding that stroller.

• Just played Uno with Jack while Lucie had a nap. I remember now that I love Uno. So simple. So playable. #

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• I just found out about cheeseburger in a can. Makes me proud to be of German descent. #
• Cheeseburger in a can can be found at http://tinyurl.com/8ae5gj #
• Just finished reading the last book of The Spiderwick Chronicles to the kids. We loved it. Too bad the movie would likely freak them out. #

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I had my first Epic Fail as a dad yesterday. And it’s textbook.

Tuesday is early day at school for Jack, so Lucie and I spend the afternoon doing something (like, her having a nap, usually). Today, I decided to try and squeeze three errands into the hour and a half slot. I guessed at a mall that would have (A) a drive through bank, (B) a Dollarama and (C) a grocery store! I guessed Westmount and got it right. Yes! Superdad!

Until I found out what time it was when I got into the car to leave.

I drove (at law-abiding speeds of course) as quickly as I could to the school, but the distance was just too great to traverse in 15 minutes. It took me nearly 25 to get to his school hallway. And when I did, as I neared his little body slumped against the wall, I could make out his face. Crying.

I was late. He was crying. Frightened. Abandoned. Epic fail.

But at least the teary face was enough to ensure it won’t happen again!

And kids are very good at forgiveness.

I have to admit I’m a rule-follower. I obey signs.

I just emerged from the washroom of a cafè. The sign over the toilet said
“Don’t put ANYTHING in the toilet except toilet paper.”

So, I did up my fly and left.

Well, no I didn’t. But it’s a funny sign. Or maybe it’s just me.

I fact, I just should have chucked a whole roll of toilet paper in there and walked out.

Have any oddly worded signs you’d care to share?

When you have two young kids, time becomes a very strange animal.

You try and tame it, but you cannot. You try and predict it, but you cannot. Planned free time gets swallowed up in unexpected emergency bathroom trips or the consoling of a hurt child. Previously occupied and satisfied children become immediately, inexplicably “bored” and starved for your attention. Then there are times when you find an unexpected moment of solace in the midst of madness. And, too often, you don’t have your favorite book along to cash in.

Scheduling is critical in the fight against time. Or is it the fight for time?

So how does a ManMom spend his time?

Some days are better than others. Monday, Wednesday and Friday are a three ring circus. You had better hope you find something relaxing to do before 11:30 (or, more likely, some cleaning and laundry) because after that, it’s a mad dash to dinner. Here’s the basic play-out of events.

Make lunch
Eat lunch (while cleaning up from lunch and making a snack)
Wash kids
Send kids to bathroom
Start car (winter requires extra time for everything. Yes, absolutely everything).
Dress kids
Stuff kids into car
Sweep off windows of car (scraping may be necessary, too)
Mad-dash to school for Jack
Mad-dash a half hour in the opposite direction to school for Lucie
POSSIBLE FREE TIME! (I can sometimes get a whole hour here in a coffee shop to read or do what I please. This is sweet, sweet solace time)
Pick up Jack early from school (because otherwise, we don’t have time to make the next step)
Pick up Lucie, usually late, from school
Drive the half-hour or so (more in winter rush hour) back home
Make supper (you should have started this in the morning to save time) / let kids watch a video
Eat supper together
Give bath (every second day) / clean up from supper at the same time
Get dressed for bed
Play/read stories
Send to bathroom, brush teeth, give a drink, etc, etc.
Put to bed
Wait for the kids to fall asleep
Discipline the kids for not going to sleep
Repeat the last two steps over and over again.
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And those are just the non-negotiables my friends! Yesterday I fit a meeting in there. Some times we have to make other stops, go to the Library, pick up some groceries, or whatever.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are more forgiving, as Lucie doesn’t have school those days. Sometimes, I can give her an afternoon nap and buy myself some … time.

Today happens to be a Thursday, which means I need to cut this off and do some cleaning before getting us all to gymnastics by 10:30 AM.

Good thing I love my kids.