TRUMPED BY MY 9 YEAR OLD NIECE

Before I get on with the story you need to know three things:

1.)  I have a nine year old niece, Lenne,  - the up and coming queen of gymnastics. According to my parents this girl is made of jello.  If you believe the proud grandparents this girl can put the most talented member of Cirque du Soleil to shame.

2.) We currently live 9ooo km apart from each other, my niece, my parents and I.
Thanks to modern communication we stay in touch with random phone calls full of sweet nothingness.
If my niece is the princess of gym apparatus, my mom is the undefeated queen of random jibber jabber!

3.) There are two items on my bucket list I am horrified to do! That's why they are on the list; I strategically postponed these two actions successfully for 40 years. One of them is to do a back dive into the pool!

 "What, that's it?"
Easy for you to say! We all have our own personal fears and shortcomings to overcome - and the back dive is mine!

 Last week, out of the blue, I decided to take the plunge- literally. Don't ask me why, I just wanted to do it ! Who am I to encourage, motivate and inspire to Just do it if I am not doing it myself?

A plain and simple, straight backwards back dive is all I ever wanted to complete and experience since I am about 8 years old!

Why haven't I done it?
 I am afraid! I am afraid to break my back and to hit my head somewhere. I am afraid of not being flexible enough. Letting go, falling backwards into the big unknown freaks me out! Until last Tuesday that is!

Here is the abbreviated version of how it went:  Y E S, I did it! HURRAH - I let myself go - and survived!

As you can read, this back dive is a pretty huge accomplishment in my life! For good measure I did the dive six times; to make sure I am not a one-hit-diver!


A few days later our long distance line was busy with my mom's desperate attempt to figure out her yearly pre- Christmas- dilemma:
 What can she send whom and how for the holy season? In between my non -helpful suggestions (just send some sweets, we have everything) my mother kept on asking:
 "So tell me, what is new?"

Regardless of how many times I answer this question in general, she keeps on asking the same thing, over and over again; as if she is hoping something spectacular is going to happen while she is on the line!

I don't know if my parents ever knew about this personal absession of mine. Regardless, I told them. I told them about my personal victory, about how I conquered my fear diving backwards into a pool!
After I finished with "I did it!" there was nothing, just (stunned????) silence on their end!

This was mom's reaction to one of my most courageous, personal challenges so far:
 "You should see what Lenne can do!  It is unbelievable how this girl can bend herself into a pretzel!"

Isn't it funny?
 Some things mean the world to you- but they mean little or nothing to others; personal or business accomplishments mean nothing if we brag about them to the wrong audience!

A FUTURE ENTREPRENEUR?

I often wonder, which genes did our boys get from me, which ones did they get from their father?
Without any reservation, hesitation or false modesty I raise my hand to Good LOOKS AND CHARM. Let me keep my belief that throwing tantrums, being moody, smart and entrepreneurial comes from their father's side.

This last characteristic makes me so proud that I needed post about it!
Today was the annual Entrepreneurial Show at our Elementary School.
The students had to design, research, develop, create and sell a product of their choice!
[caption id="attachment_851" align="alignnone" width="225"] The Business plan [/caption]
Our son, without leaving his minecraft screen, or taking a break from youtube, hit the nail right on its head.
This 10 year old encompasses the Zeitgeist of his generation. Guess what he made?
What is every 10 year old boy crazy about at this moment?
Right, MINECRAFT!
[caption id="attachment_852" align="alignnone" width="225"] Here he is, THE GENIUS...[/caption]

In the early hours of the evening he cut, painted and glued 30 of these characters (don't ask me their names though-).

This young boy gave us seasoned sales folks a lesson.
He showed us what sales manuals, marketing strategy courses or business courses don't teach.
His lesson to us: SELL WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO BUY!
It is that simple - really!
This morning, within one hour, he was sold out!

STILL HERE -

I should rename this blog to "Prairie Log", as this is my third entry on this topic! Bare with me, I will be home on Monday and things will get back to normal...

After our event, we left our venue elated and ready for tomorrow. It was 5.30pm Weyburn time on a Saturday, we went shopping when it hit me: The movie set from Yesterday World changed into Ghost Town: We hardly saw any souls anywhere! How many more names can you give this place?
6pm is too early to be tucked away at home, but not too late to be out and about?
Apart from petrol stations, the odd fast food joint and Walmart, everything else was shut. Let's hear it from Gail: You never ever see anybody out and about. Not on Monday, on Tuesday.....ever!

Today we presented our live event LIVE LIFE NOW for the first time!
Part of our presentation is devoted to goal setting. That got me thinking; Do you set goals? If yes, do you take them serious? Do you act upon them or do you live your life like "I want to become a rich, let's find a good job and see what happens?"

Here is my question: If we never heard of goal setting when we were little, and all you had was your imagination, your ideas and dreams- how far would they carry us?
Do we gravitate towards our own wishes and ideas anyways without manifesting them on paper?
Autsch, it's official, the prairie makes me mellow, I am writing way too serious stuff.

Right here is the part I should mention my parents, my all too serious, over protective father, my amazing hospitable, overwhelming mother. None of them open to anything fancy like 'becoming an entrepreneur, dream big, setting goals. What are goals again? Instead of 'doing what you love doing" the motto of my father was 'Do what earns a steady income and has a future (become a civil servant!). Enough said.
My parents deserve a whole book devoted to them, therefore I am not even tempted to start with them....you will thank me, believe me!

As my chances are slim to hear from you (?), I will answer my own question.
YES, we are guided by our dreams, wishes and ideas. Take it or leave it, here is part of my story:
When I was little, I fall in love with this man:

There was no question in my mind - ever, I was going to marry a native American!

I wanted to live in an English speaking country, become a writer and if I was lucky enough to have children, I wanted four - four Boys!
Here comes the spooky part: I am married to an American (without hair!), I live in Canada (reminder: they speak - among many other languages, English) I wrote a book and we have four boys (ok, I cheated, one is an exchange student, he is ours on a temporary basis only).

All this without ever knowing what goal setting is? What is that called?

One Happy Mother!
See 'ya tomorrow!

IS THERE such a THING called LUCK?

[caption id="attachment_156" align="alignnone" width="300"] The lucky couple! C.Waschko[/caption][caption id="attachment_151" align="alignnone" width="225"] One lucky couple! C.Waschko[/caption]I just talked to my parents in regards to their upcoming 50th wedding anniversary!

My dad considers himself a very lucky man! He always mentions 'how lucky' he is that he married my mom; how 'lucky'he was with his job. how 'lucky' he is his children live the good life!

That makes me wonder, how much luck can one man have? How lucky can we get?

Could you help me out with the following:

Are we born under a 'lucky star'?
Is it destiny we are born into a certain social class?

Do we have a personal destiny to fulfill? Is there a book written for us when we are born - i.e. whatever happens to us has to happen because it was written in that book?

Thank you for helping me to define'being lucky'.

THE MOST ANNOYING THING PARENTS DO...

...when dropping off their children at school.

Parents are the same all around the world: We only want the best for our kids and bugger the rest!

When it comes to waving good-bye to their precious ones, parents park their cars everywhere, regardless of whose driveway it is, what is in front-, besides or behind them.

It's the same old scene every moring, regardless of where you are in the world! What my Dutch buddies do with their bikes - leave them everywhere- my new Canadian parent friends do with their cars-  leave them everywhere! I just love it, it proves the point we are only people, regardless of where we live ! Canadians may be ueber friendly, but for these 2 minutes in the morning they are as ignorant, over protective and arrogant as the rest of the world wide parent group!

This madness is bad enough during dry, sunny days- imagine what is going on when it's raining... need I say more?

I can wash my hands in innocence, I am not part of this group- I prefer to bitch about them and make my boys walk!

[caption id="attachment_683" align="alignnone" width="300"] Strolling home photo: C. Waschko[/caption]

Now that this is off my chest, it is time to cook dinner- again- I will see you tomorrow!

Just a reminder, this was the first entry of my 22 day challenge!

 

 

WINNERS aren't BORN, they are MADE!

Last year they started out as a loose bunch of High School students - with no ties or connections to each other. The only bond between them was their shared love for the game, to play soccer! They were categorized as the bronze team, the lowest team to play in.

Yesterday, they were crowned undisputed Winners and Champions in their league!



Our Bulldogs team went straight to the top in 23 undefeated (!!!) matches; come rain, come shine or snow! We travelled to the furthest places ( to a German that is, for a Canadian it's just around the corner) or played in our own neighbourhood. We mothers huddled together under big umbrellas, sat on cold benches, wrapped in blankets or sleeping bags, we made the most of every cold morning!

Yesterday, it all came to a crescendo! God, my heart warms and jumps with joy when I see our healthy, strong, dedicated and handsome (!) sons!



It all comes down to a good leader or coach, right? Somebody who can awaken the giant within you? Somebody who will start a burning desire to succeed, somebody who will let you know 'we stand strong as one, together as a team'.

When you read this it sounds quite sophisticated, complicated, technical or challenging, wouldn't you agree? At the end of the day, a coach can make or break the team!

Who needs Antony Robbins when three highly motivated fathers can do the same thing? Three dads who wanted to spend some more time with their lads in the evening! Let me call them Phil, Zack and John.

All they did was put on their coaching suits, were their own quirky, goofy selves and - Voila - magic happened. To this day I don't know if our coaching dads play soccer themselves (they know about the rules though) or if they have any coaching experiences.

I don't believe I just wrote this, silly me! Of course they do. They are fathers, they are raising children and they just created winners! Whatever they did, they sprinkled the right amount of pixy dust onto our sons; to bring the best out in them; to make them run faster, shoot harder; try harder!

How did they do it - apart from sprinkling the dust? Don't ask me, I am only the mother who supplied transportation and watched from the side lines! All I remember is their laughter during practice, high fives, our Christmas party, paintballing on a glorious Sunday morning, ice-creams at Dairy Queen, encouraging words during matches and in emails, shouting, yelling, more laughter and encouraging words to our goalie when the occassional, unstoppable ball slipped through his fingers.

Could it be that simple? The magic formula for success is HAVE FUN & JUST DO IT?

Dear coaches, I bow my head in admiration: You taught our sons to believe!



To believe in themselves and in their team! Thank you!

CRAZY DOG PEOPLE

In a far away country, a very long time ago, I promissed our boys "to get a dog when you are older, when mom isn't working any more, when we have a big backyard, when we have lots of nature around us and, when we move to Canada."  All these things happened and I am running out of excuses. But still, no dog yet. But our friend Jaci bought one recently.   Here is her  written attempt to lure me into the -extra-ordinary- world of (crazy) dog people:

My husband and I swore we would not get a dog with three young kids already in tow. Yet here we are, with our zoo (ages 3,6 and 8) and a 5 month old girl puppy-dog whom we adore. We are still keeping it real in our household. She doesn't sleep in our bed and I don't let her lick me on the lips, but I must admit that she is a worthy addition to our family. I like to think the reasons were simple, but the truth is, we discussed it, researched it and tried to talk ourselves out of it all summer. What really inspired me was meeting a dog in the neighbourhood that I really liked; it was this particular breed that drew us in.



I like most dogs, but I wouldn't want to own many of them. Drooly, shedding, stinky, yappy ones do not really appeal to me. That is why we got ourselves a designer dog. She is none of those things, so she fits in perfectly! We found a great Goldendoodle breeder on Vancouver Island, dropped some ridiculous, but so worth it - money and never looked back!



The week the kids went back to school I went with my 3 year old daughter to pick her up at the airport and we started our journey as a family of 6. It was a special day for all of us. My husband ended up feeling as though the void he always felt over the missing (undetermined) fourth baby was finally filled. He crawled in her crate and fall in love right away. As for myself, I have vowed to never be a crazy dog lady. Instead, I resisted the urge to swaddle her in a blankie and focused on crate training. I fell quickly into the usual mom routine - eat-sleep-poop- repeat. It felt like I had another baby, but only for a week or so.



Aside from the expected puppy antics, Sparrow (named after Jack Sparrow, not the bird) is a good dog. We think. She rarely gets into mischief aside from attacking the recycling bin in the pantry, stealing ham out of the kid's sandwiches, or knocking over the odd menstruated garbage bin. House training was kind of a breeze, considering this is what scared me the most.

Now that we are five months in, life with a dog couldn't be better.We are all outside more and much more active as a family. We don't expect our kids to do all that much for the dog, but we hope they learn this over time as they become older and more capable. The work part is up to us and we have to love it. For parents, it is natural to want to satisfy our children's burning desires to have a dog and to then expect them to carry a large part of the responsibility.



My kids are pretty smitten with their dog but that doesn't mean they are ready to hit the backyard with a pooper scooper in tow. Sometimes my son walks her for 4 minutes, but they both come back with a smile, so that is enough in itself. The poop piles in the back yard are multiplying rapidly, and I am not going to lie, it is a chore that none of us have really owned as of yet. I think it is a man job, yes?

Are we good dog owners? Nah. We recently made a New Year's resolution for 2013 that we will finally get that cream 'on her parts' as this is an area that can become irritated in furry dogs (the vet gave it to us 3 months ago). One of these days I will muster up the courage to do it. It has become a bit of a maritial dispute around here. Nobody really wants to touch it!

Jaci Botterman

VACATION TIME

These are our last days of our school vacation.. What better reason is there to reflect upon holidays?

Dear Holiday,
I love you as an institution; I love you for what you stand for: A well deserved period of fun and relaxation after a period of hard work.

Memories of days long past come floating back; long, lazy days filled with sweet nothing. During our school holidays back in the days, when I was a young girl, we didn't have a computer at home. My parents couldn't afford to go away during each vacation. German TV at that time only had three channels, our kid's entertainment started at 5.10pm, and ended at 7pm.

We had a big yard and my brother and I had enough willing neighbours to play with us. Time spent at home during school holidays is a pleasant blur. We read books, went on bike rides and later on a teenagers, we still went on bike rides, just a little bit further away.



Did we drive my mom crazy?  I don't think so. This lady has a talent to keep herself - and others, busy. Always has been, always will be. Obviously, I asked her this question, several times even. And always the same response: "Oh, I really don't remember, that is so long ago!" Our dad was mostly at work'; we definately didn't drive him crazy.

Dear Holiday, as a working woman I cherish you to charge up replenished batteries -  we all need a rest once in a while.

Dear Holiday, in my current state and carreer as a mother of four, you are driving me crazy!

Holiday time at home is luxury and fun during the first three days. The luxury of staying up late, getting up even later and slouching in ones PJ's can't be stressed enough. Holiday time frees me up from a demanding taxi service four nights a week to bring any one of the boys to soccer practise. At least now I can design my own evening entertainment.

Any longer than three days and anarchy takes over!

Mrs. Holiday, I hold you responsible to turn our life upside down, to let our well rehearsed, well established routine fall into pieces. Nothing makes sense anymore. If I don't offer our boys a list of activities ( e.g. ice-skating, movies, skiing, trail walking), they are more than happy to roll out of their bed straight onto the comfy couch in our men den to start on the xbox.

We are getting up way too late, we don't know if we should eat breakfast or lunch, our dishes are pilling up in the sink. It's driving me crazy!

Dearest holiday, I appreciate you as a wonderful opportunity to experience daily life in a more extra-ordinary fashion these days. But as you know, all good things have to come to an end. This is what happens to all good or bad things, they have to end. The good thing about bad things coming to an end is that we have the chance to start fresh again.

The good things, like holidays, need to come to an end too; otherwise we wouldn't enjoy and appreciate them so much!

Therefore, on Monday my children will be sad that you are over, but I will be happy! Life as I know it will be upon us-again!

TRUE RELIGION

The biggest mysteries growing up were the neatly dressed men and women standing on street corners, holding up a copy of 'Watchtower'. They never talked to us, we never talked to them. Mom always hustled us along, telling us (my brother and me) they are 'weirdos'. Sometimes, these neatly dressed people rang on our door bell - only to get the door shut back firmly into their faces once it was opened.



These humans remained a big question mark for all these years -  until recently that is. Blame it on curiosity, too much time on my hands, the Christmas spirit, my ongoing quest to learn something new or the simple fact that Canadians are so friendly, I opened our door to let Jehova's witnesses into our house and into my life!

I am receiving a weekly, complimentary bible discussion. All my questions are  answered in the comfort of my own home.



So far we covered the main differences between them and me: e.g. no birthday parties for them, a big bash for me.

No Christmas celebration for Jehova's witnesses, they don't recognize December as the birth month of Jesus - my religion said yes to the date and I will bring it on, year after year.

I got enlightened about the reason why we get old and must die - in the biblical sense that is. It has something to do with what Eve did to Adam in Paradise. (Ladies, it rings true to this day and age: We have the power to break or make a man! Be wise and very careful on how to use this power!)

They triggered my memory on the 'fact' that Satan stands for 'the opposer'. Satan,  a fallen angel from Gods own crew.



Furthermore they let me into the WHY, WHEN and WHAT will happen next.

It is all fascinating stuff. Years of religious education from school is coming back to me. I am not sure if the ladies are on a mission to convert me - I put the cards on the table from day one: No converting, just talking!  But if they are, they are doing a good job of  'selling' me GOD. Religion is truly a funny topic, we are all looking for the same things, we just use different vehicles to get where we want to be!

So far, I made only one mistake along the road to a 'different truth': I called my parents! I shared the good news that they don't need to worry about the neatly dressed people anymore. They are no bogy men! Big mistake! Now, I am responsible for their sleepless nights and nightmares. They are convinced "I will get seduced and lulled into the big religious trickery where one submits ones own free will and becomes a slave of the belief". Their words, not mine!  Where did they read that one? They are worried I might leave husband and kids in exchange for standing on street sorners, holding up a little brochure.

 We fear and judge what we don't know about! Interesting, isn't it? I better don't tell them I started reading  "Dianetcs" by L.Ron Hubbard...

By all means, I am not extra-ordinary by letting Jehova's witnesses into my home. If a rabbi would knock I would talk to him too, as well as anybody else who holds a different belief for that matter. Being extra-ordinary is more about being curious about something new and different - and to keep an open mind to accept or reject it into ones own life.

True Religion? For some it is expensive denim - or-  whatever makes us happy!

TOO MUCH TIME

 RANDOM & (EXTRA-) ORDIONARY THOUGHTS during a bus ride

From Coquitlam to Burnaby[/caption]

                                                                                                                                                       To fully appreciate Justin Bieber you need to be a teenage girl! Our male dominated household is a “Bieber-Fever - Free Zone!”

Blame it on my ears:  Katie Perry, Kelly Clarkson & Carly Rae Jepsen sound like one to me!

The movie”JACKASS” should be renamed into ‘Dumb Asses”.  Honestly, who comes up with this dangerous, disgusting stuff? Men?                                                                        While I am thinking about movies:  I don’t see the attraction of ‘The Walking Dead” either

 On the other hand, I think Peter Griffin is cool!  “Family Guy” beats “South Park” any day!

 What is it with men and their obsession with black socks?

 Forget about reading “50 Shades of Grey”. See what 50 shades of black socks do to your libido when you try to match them back together!

Best invention in the sock department: The ones with the names of the week printed on.    Or buy hiking socks.   They make it even easier to get the right foot into the right sock: They have the letters written on them!  This is a wonderful no-brainer for early in the morning.

The best invention for homemakers who are in charge of the laundry: Colour catchers! These sheets of paper changed my life! They save so much time and deliver what they promise!

Is it too late to teach our boys home etiquette? They need some fine tuning! Why can't they compliment me on a job well done when I present a new dish? Instead they are yelling: "Don't like it".

Joey's mom in Korea, (he is our exchange student) you did something right here: Your son would NEVER, EVER say something like that to me.  If he doesn't agree with the new dish he quietly reaches for the ketchup bottle! He is a clever one.

 Mom was right when she told me fewer, but thicker rolls of toilet paper last longer than single sheet rolls.

Please anti-wrinkle cream - manufacturers, tell the truth, are your creams really working? I have reached the age where I want to believe your promises!

What happened, can't “multi-task” anymore!.  I was able to read an e-mail, respond to it, answer the phone, watch TV and talk to Dominic – all at the same time!  Now I need quiet and peace to do one or the other! BUT, I am still able to make yoghurt and crunchy flakes at the same time!

Blueberries and pumpkin spiced lattes are an acquired taste.

Why should you drive with 16 and drink with 19? The other way around makes so much more sense to me..                                                                                                                                                                            Drink when you are 16, get shit faced many times over, puke and get it over with. Then become a responsible driver with 18. You won’t have any desire to drink anymore (or at least not so much).

I wonder where I will find Cruz's well hidden birthday present. Probably at my next spring cleaning.

It was brilliant how Brando cracked the combination lock of our new suitcase. He watched YouTube got on with it. Scarry what teenagers know and learn from their downloads. But in this case, very helpful indeed - and easier than you think!

Wouldn't it be nice to become Penny's roommate and hang out with Sheldon, Leonard, Howard and Raj? Would love to meet Howard's mother ...

Don’t know whom I am talking about? It’s the Big Bang Theory!

Would you like to add to this random rambling?  Please let me know!

FRIDAY NIGHT FEVER

It wasn’t a night to remember, but it was a fun night out!

Three real blondes and one brunette with a combined age of 201 years added more sparkle and energy to our dead Haney pub/club on a Friday night than all of the mid twenties combined!

Ladies, we rock!

Originally we started out as a cinquet, but ended up as a quartet. We lost Blondie No.1 as fast as we uttered “Let’s go dancing”. She couldn’t bear the thought of having any more fun without her husband and called it a day.  (Do blondes have more fun?)
Needless to say, the four of us didn’t feel guilty at all -  For tonight they were our ‘mansitters’ and that meant: Our babysitter came free of charge!

Our handsome quartet left for the closest dance floor in town, The Haney:  A pub at day time, a club on Friday and Saturday night.

The HANEY

It’s 10.10pm: The club/pub is still empty, the dance floor hasn’t even been cleared of chairs and tables yet – but the music is good. Top 40 music with NO artificial techno beats. Are we that early? Where is everybody? Right, next door at the Caddy Shack! They are holding their “Rookie of the Year Award”!

There is nothing better than a strip - show to lure the paying public from the public house! We are tempted to wander inside but reconsider after we read the cover charge. We all have the same thought: Let’s rather buy a drink for that money and not get intimidated by skinny bodies covered in lacy lingerie! This is fine with me, I’ve seen it already.



Back inside the pub/club we take matters in our own hands and rock the place! No turtleneck and hiking boots could stop me from joining my enthusiastic, dancing mother friends:

Alana has the groovy, trendy moves

.

Jaqui goes with the flow and rocks it any way she likes.

Kerrie gets so carried away that she demonstrates the “litter box” on the dance floor for us!  This lady has no shame, she actually admits she has stolen this move straight from a Shrek movie.



(The “litter box”: Drop down on all fours, keep arms extended, toes on the floor. Alternately wiggle and kick one leg into the air. Pretend you are a cat in her litter box).

And for me? All moves are inspired by my former life as aerobics instructor and my German heritance (marching step-touches).

After 20 minutes of enthusiastic exercise we are still the only ones dancing! It gets busier, but still, the youth is hanging, checking their i-phones instead of moving their legs.  We are not the youngest anymore, we don’t have last names sounding like Travolta, Timberlake, Jackson or Usher, but we definitely have their attitude:

We can move like Jagger! I call these creative, innovative dance moves.. Or as Grace Jones said we are “Slave to the Rhythm”. Let me compare this to the young crowd who finally follows our lead. Uniformed in too tight dresses and high heels, they move like one. Nothing fancy here, all rocking to the same, dull beat of the same techno background. I couldn’t help but feeling sorry for them.  They never experienced the innocent disco scene. The great sound of pure, honest music. We danced to the originals. Not to artificially enhanced, computerized, pre-fabricated sounds.



We only know what we know and what we remember. I wonder what these young women and men will remember. Probably only the text messages they received while standing in the middle of the dance floor, moving as one.

I said it once; I have to say it twice: Ladies, we rock! And don’t let any twenty –something tell you otherwise! They might be extra-ordinary in their own way, but we are extra-ordinary on the dance floor! They don’t even know how to do the ‘litter box”, we do!

 

 

 

 

DAVID BECKHAM COVER(S) UP

I know I promised you “Fright Night”, a haunted house filled with blood thirsty creatures roaming around during full moon, causing goose bumps, palpation and sweaty palms to every living soul. 

Unfortunately, this has to wait till the next time!  Something else came up and I need to get the following off my chest first. I am a woman- changing my mind / my script / or my intention is part of the gender description!

What or who spooked me? My de-railing comes in the form of Mr. Eye Candy, David Beckham.

Personally, I like his looks and I love the idea of him being a devoted (?), progressive father. Anyway, I spotted his latest picture in his undies for the H&M campaign (you’ve seen the one, taken by tourists in the tour bus?). This alone caused my housewife brain to go into overdrive.  Then I picked up a dated edition of “Hello’ magazine during my holy hour at the library! Here he is again, Mr. Handsome, besotted father with his daughter in his arms. I can’t remember the quote exactly, but it went something like this:

“Now that I have a daughter I can’t run around half dressed anymore”

Or did he actually say “naked”? Or was it “...in my boxer shorts anymore”?

Is he joking? Or does a prude lurk inside this well chiselled, well camouflaged body of his?

If this is the truth can I make the assumption that his three boys have never seen Victoria in her Eve costume? (This should read “Adams costume” actually. But you will only get this pun if you know her maiden name)!  

For Goodness sake David, get real! Your daughter has three brothers. Sooner or later, at one occasion or another, she will find out what that dangly thingy is you guys have and we girls don’t.

Of course, it is your own business how to bring up your children!  But wouldn’t you agree that it is much easier to let it all ‘hang out’ or simply grin and bear it - at least in your own home?  Confined to your own four walls? Let’s face it: If you can’t run around naked within your own four walls, where else can you?  And if you do, look what happened to the future Queen of England.

 If your children won’t see their own parents naked - how else will they learn about the small differences?  Where else should their see it or learn from? At their friends house (I hope not!), on TV (most likely), at a peep-show (Holy C.., better late than never?), on the beach (you have some explaining to do right there and then) or in some books and magazines (probably the safest bet).

As for me, I whole heartedly support the ‘no secret’ policy! -  That’s what we did (and still do?) in Germany.

My three boys know how I look like.  I never made a big deal about it. And the result?  They don’t really care about this whole subject on being nude!

 Do you agree? Is this part of being extra-ordinary? To me it is!

On this note, I wonder what is going on in Madonna’s house!

Happy to hear from you!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FAMILY REUNION

Since the beginning of September we are the proud parents of our fourth boy and our children are the proud brothers to a brother from a different mother and father. I am talking about Joey, our Korean exchange student who will live with us for the next 10 months. If this wasn’t enough to adapt to, my parents from Germany arrived at roughly the same time for their first ever visit to Canada.

This is what you need to know about these two grey, but still highly active grandparents:



My father speaks basic English only, my mom speaks none. My husband speaks only English and with my parents limited English skills the three of them form a harmonious trio. I often wonder why my parents haven’t taken a language course at Community College!  Let’s hear the logical reason from my mom:”Why doesn’t Dominic (aka husband) learn German instead?”

My Dad conveniently forgot his driving licence for this trip, my mom doesn’t drive at all. They brought a Vancouver travel guide, but so far forgot to open it.

Therefore, I am the chosen tour guide. For the last two weeks Mrs. Google and Mr. Tom-Tom have been my closest friends - together we navigate the big unknown!

My parents are still young enough, very active, healthy enough and like going places. My mom is right when she says: “We didn’t come all this way just to sit at home.”

Needless to say, life as I know it has come to a standstill. I don’t know about you, but with my parents to visit I am doing things I normally wouldn’t consider doing - like sitting in the BIG RED TOUR Bus, exploring the sights in Vancouver.  But I must admit, sitting on top of the bus was an eye opener. Now I know that Vancouver is not big, not old, not historic, but its beauty comes from its location: The scenery is mind boggling wherever you look!



On Granville Island Dad was magically drawn to the Kaiserhaus Bratwurst und Sauerkraut. But surprisingly he opted for the sweet sour Chinese noodles instead. He recognized the dish from his Chinese restaurant back in Germany. My German Mom, the more adventurous part of the duo, opted for French Crepes (?) instead.

I also persuaded them to go on a beautiful bike ride along the river dykes in our neighbourhood. This round trip normally takes me three hours, but with my active 60 plus bikers in tow it took us nearly six hours! I must hand it to my mom: after cycling during the immense lunch time heat, after giving her German buns a grilling workout and her hard assed daughter only allowing one pit stop, I only heard her complain once! Aren’t they amazing? I am exhausted, I don’t get things done, and our children have to walk home from school alone because I am so preoccupied with their grandparents.

The only ongoing complaints about their trip are the ridiculously high prices for alcohol. This German couple can’t refuel on coffee and hot chocolate alone! And when they finally find a pub they get a near heart attack when they receive the bill for two pints of beer: $16.00! With this fatal beer experience they figured: “We could have gone to Scandinavia instead – drinks are as expensive there, but we are much closer to home!” Of course they are kidding, they won’t find their grandchildren there!

After two weeks of non-stop action I finally followed Dominic’s advice: I will put them on the train with the city map in my father’s hand.  Mom remembers the one place closest to her heart: Robson Street!  A happy place for strolling shopaholics!

On this note I will raise my glass to my very extra-ordinary parents who have their flaws, their die-hard habits and who can drive me crazy to say the least!  But they are my parents, I feel very blessed to have them- and I love them for who they are.