Easter Memories: Confessions of a Veteran Bunny

I know it’s been a while since I’ve blogged. Personally, I link it to the trauma of the whole “going bunny” experience, well that and the new job and the half-crazed effort to get myself back into shape (ooohhh look, another blog topic). Either way, with most of my down time spoken for of late, I find myself increasingly taking from my own sleep period to accomplish the basics. Working out, maybe laundry, or if I’m really lucky, a page on the book. As such, blogging is limited to those brief periods only when I’m conscious enough to focus on the keys. Still, with a second Easter mission badge on my cap I’m starting to feel like a holiday veteran so without further ado I give you…

Easter: Confessions of a Veteran Bunny

I don’t know how it happened. I really don’t. How did I find myself leopard-crawling across the frozen surface of the snow with a bag of shiny eggs clutched in my teeth praying that the thin, sun-glazed crust on which I was suspended didn’t shatter to send me plummeting six feet deep into the snow beneath. Maybe it was when I volunteered to do the egg hunt for the second year in a row. Maybe it was when I realized that with Easter almost a full month early and a snow pack that outdid anything seen in the last third century I didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to back out and disappoint the nieces, nephews and children of direct decent who counted on my efforts as being part of their quiver of “happy childhood memories” on which they will draw someday in the far future when their happy memories and pleasant childhood will be all that stands between them and that fifth gin and tonic. Who knows? What I did know was that there I was, uncle to four and father of two, working his way gingerly across the frozen wastes that during summer months masquerades as my brother’s front lawn to carefully place a single egg in the boughs of the old willow tree. Undignified you say? Hah! No more so that making your way on foot only to find yourself suddenly staring at your own boot at eye level while its mate along with the rest of your body plunges five feet into the drift beneath, a position that would look (and feel) undignified to even the stretchiest of die-hard, cirque-de-soleil performers.

So…crawling it is, then, gentlemen. On the one hand I was glad that there was no one of the two legged variety to witness my indignation on the other hand there was always the fear that I would end up like some sort of Easter-esque Oetzi, found frozen to death in a melting glacier mysteriously clutching a bag of eggs containing curious bits of folded paper on which cryptic geographically induced rhymes were neatly typed. The irony was not lost on me that 2000-or-so years earlier in Jerusalem, Christ, got a “get out grave free!” card. The rest of us poor sods have to dig ourselves out the old fashioned way. Hmmmpph. Daddy’s boy.

Ah well, at least all ended well. Within two hours I had successfully managed to place the eggs around the farm, the clues within all cleverly leading to the baskets and their carefully chosen and purchased contents specified to each child participating. A resounding success of effort that the kids blew through in about thirty minutes. Hah, Martha Stewart ain’t got nothing on me…except for not having to walk with a limp for a few days. It helps to have staff I guess. Still, in hindsight, a few pointers for the ones who get to wear the long ears in the household:

1. Meet the new dog before coming onto family property. With all due respect to my brother’s bouvier-wolfhound cross “Fluffy” the last time you want to play the role of a rabbit (Easter or otherwise) is when you are letting yourself onto family property with nary a human for miles and the new dog checking you out as a potential chew toy. And here you are carrying bags upon bags of chocolate. Merde.


2. It’s easy to let spending get out of control in the quest to get the “balance of the baskets” just right. Keep it simple and if you’re taking donations get the money up front. “But the kids had such a great time last year,” is nice and all but that doesn’t necessarily pay the bills.


3. Modify your hunt based on the children involved. The first year I did this the kids moved as a group. As a result the younger ones tended to get left behind as the older ones scrambled for the loot. This year I drafted two different hunts based on participant capabilities each with their own sets of clues. The key was they’d have to come back together to join their clues and solve the mystery of where the loot was stashed. Think of it as cross-country hangman. Just make sure you don’t lose them in the snowdrifts. Brightly coloured toques, folks, they’re not just fashion statements, more like hand-knitted flare guns.
   
   Well there you have it folks, a little bit of wisdom from a veteran bunny. Remember, if you’re destined to take up the ears, plan ahead. Until they find the body, or everyone converts to paganism, chances are this is going to be an annual event. Sigh.

Image - Easter Sunday, 2008

Welcome to the Tundra, We got ice and snow...

Stand up...Hook up...Shuffle to the door...

Aaaaannnnnd jump! Well here I am two weeks into the new job and the sense of blind panic is only now slowly starting to ebb. As I mentioned in my previous post I've finally taken the leap from my previous employer of six and a half years and have officially moved from Crown Corporation to the Public Service (proper). And what a leap it was. But first a little perspective. My last job was literally a lifeboat. As jobs go it could often be as dry and chewy as last year's Styrofoam, but what made it livable was the benefits. Compressed work hours, pension, sick leave, a decent health and dental plan, when you've got a kid who's asthmatic you cling to these things and I swore I wouldn't leave unless I found something with a comparable package (hence the 6.5 years, folks). Anyway, so I finally find what I'm looking for and it's great. The people are excellent and the growth opportunities are light years ahead of where I was.
So why the fear and angst? Well, first is the running of the HR obstacle course, making sure that your benefits are set up and being told that many of them don't kick in for months. Whereas normally this wouldn't be a problem, with my son's asthma season fast closing coupled with every major HR database being down for end of year tally, it's a race to see what will kick in first, benefits or asthma attack. Coupled to this is the changeover in hours and saying goodbye to the compressed work week thus removing me from the volunteer pool at my son's school. Nothing says downer like telling your five year old that daddy won't be in class this week (or any other) to read stories. Personally, I think I'm having more separation anxiety than he is. Oh well, I suppose it's one of the things we have to get used to, letting go. Working moms do it all the time. I suppose I should be able to suck it up as well. I just have to warn myself that spending less time with my kids isn't going to become either a habit or a trend.

Heck, who needs sleep.

12:45 and all is welllll..... Lawdy, I must be out of my mind. Still, I've been promising myself I'd be posting any day now for too many "any days now". So, I'm back. Well, March reached the epitome of silly this year. Not only did I have a very wonderful and active March break with both the boys (as well as a wide assortment of parental units, etc -a big shout out to Jen, Cheryl and Alain and Shauna for that) but I also organized this year's Easter Egg hunt (you can bet there's going to be a post on that one) and switched my long standing job at the SCC (6.5 years) to a brand new (and shiny) Federal government posting. And yes, there will be a posting on that too. Add to that the record snowfall and the glacially slow recovery from the worst cold I've had in a decade and it's been an interesting month. But, here we are in April, so hopefully as things settle down with the new job I'll be able to post a little more regularly. In the meantime a few choice pics from last month:

Welcome to f*cking Narnia...

Yep, they're taller than me. Not only do I double as a landmark, I also make a handy height reference.

"I want to sit on the iceberg," "No, i want to sit on the iceberg."

"Boys...boys..we're surrounded by bloody great icebergs. Just pick one. Sigh...brothers."

To Sleep. Perchance to Dream?

As a parent? Well, maybe. Personally I found that I became a much lighter sleeper once my son was in the room with me. Recently, a colleague of mine who is soon to be a father, asked about my feelings about co-sleeping with your baby. Actually, I'm a big fan of it. Mind you I think it depends on the parents. If the parents are heavy sleepers, drink a fair amount, take sleeping pills or are on heavy cold medication etc it's probably a bad idea. The basic rule is if the parents judgement or ability to react is impaired in any way the child should probably go into their own crib. Other than that co-sleeping allows you to react to your child's needs a lot faster, get them settled quicker, they sleep more securely and thus you sleep better.

For my youngest my solution was more of a hybrid one as I take up a lot of bed space. The crib was pushed up against the bed with the side only raised slightly for easy access for midnight, 2:00 am and 5:00 am feedings and there was a change station set up nearby so that if James was wet I ...(Yes, I, thank you. Chivalry isn't dead, it's just really, really tired.) Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I could change him relatively quickly. These days manufacturers seem to have caught on to this whole "Family together? Good!" idea that was making the rounds at the end of the last ice age. As such they've come up with things like the co-sleeper bassinet http://armsreach.com/original_cosleeper.php that keeps your kids within easy reach while alleviating the fear of accidently asphyxiating your child every time you go out for Mexican. Also, I can't stress this enough, making sure you have everything within easy reach for after light's out is of paramount importance. You don't want to be navigating a toy block slalom run in the dark at 2:00 am because you forgot to restock the diaper pile. Trust me on that one.

So, essentially if you want to have the best chance at enough sleep, cosleeping is definitely the way to go or at least some variation thereof. Every mammal does it. We seem to be the only one that has elements that still recommend against it. As for which side for sleeping, that's up to you but once the child is rolling, (or if you have a smaller bed) and you're not going with the crib or bassinet, squarely in the middle of the bed is probably better so the child doesn't find itself in freefall at 3:00 am.

Silence the Dragons....

I know this is a parenting blog and we'll get back to that in a moment, folks but I wanted to ask for a moment of silence for the fallen. Gary Gygax, the father of Dungeons and Dragons and the modern Role Playing Game passed away today. Details can be found on the link here:
http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/tv/16218352.html

Pax Eternus, Gary. And thank you for sparking the imagination of millions.

B.

Holidays and Kids: Parental 'Mine' Clearance

Ok, the day after Valentine’s Day and I’m still on my feet. This is, in itself, remarkable not because Valentine’s Day was anything to write home about but because I am suffering from the quintessential worst cold of the season. Still, while stumbling out of Valentine’s day and seeing Easter looming ahead (early this year, folks, BTW) I figured now is probably a good time to go over some basic survival tips I’ve learned in my short time as a dad. So, without further ado let’s start laying down some bullets for range and accuracy shall we?

• Keep your radar up: What this means is always be on the lookout for things that might go towards certain events, be they gifts, tableware, clothing, etc. especially when they’re on sale. If you see something in June that would look great on the table for next Easter or your daughter’s next birthday (and you have the cash) snag it. I guarantee you it won’t be there when you go looking for it later on.

• Spare ammo: I always try and keep something in the closet (yeah, next to the skeletons and my old Mark IV Combat boots) for the kids. These things don’t have to be expensive (often between $5-10) in value but they do come in handy for any number of things (stocking stuffers, Easter baskets, sudden birthday parties, etc) I usually keep my eyes peeled for sales. At the end of the year anything I haven’t used goes to Toy Mountain (local kids Charity).

• Avoid dissention in the ranks: For all those of you who had the strange urge to reproduce more than once (yes, I was afflicted with it too-at least that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it) it can be easier to shop for one kid and not the other. Sometimes their likes match yours better, maybe it’s due to age, or gender, regardless, practice egalitarianism. You don’t want it to be Christmas day and have the piles beneath the tree significantly unequal.

• No inspection ready unit ever passed combat: If you’re crazy enough to try the “formal event route” and by that I mean Church, formal dinners etc. plan accordingly. Make sure the clothing your kids wear doesn’t itch. Test it first. If you find it scratchy, chances are it will drive them mad and you’ll be stuck next to a smaller version of yourself break dancing in the seat next to you all night.

• No combat ready unit ever passed inspection: Again with the “formal”. Pack accordingly. Snacks, toys, mp3 players loaded with their favourite music, pajamas if it’s going to be a late night. It ain’t rocket science folks.

• The Aftermath (Who’s in Charge Here?!): Once the debris and the wrapping has cleared now is the time to get in there with your kids. Why? ‘Cause the unwrapping/egg hunt/party games etc. are over and for a kid it’s just become like the Mad Max movies. There’s a scarcity of resources and everyone wants to see what the other guy’s got. They’re going to need a peacekeeper and they’re going to need help with all the “some assembly required” gifts. Look at it this way. The sooner you get those GD things built the more there are to go around to distract them until dinner time.

• Eject: This one’s on an 'as needed' basis where I come from. Why? 'Cause I grew up in Ottawa, Ontario where the local weather/insects will happily try and kill you ¾’s of the year. Still, if necessary, don’t underestimate the allure of tobogganing to the vertically challenged. I also try and keep a bevy of water pistols handy for the summer months. At the very least it’s a great way to vent your frustrations.
  

Vaccines? We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Vaccines.

Actually, we do. This particular debate was driven home rather forcefully of late when James (my youngest) came home with a series of scabby spots all over him. Uh oh. Looks like the Chicken Pox, says…well…everyone. However, three years ago his mother and I shelled out for the Chicken Pox Vaccine. So…WTF? Granted, it was a mild case, 23 spots in all, but it still caused us to quiz the doctor who shrugged and told us that 20% of recipients are immune to the vaccine and poor James just happened to be one of them. Of course, upon hearing the news everyone within earshot of the situations pulled pin and lobbed their opinions at us; a full spectrum of, “Vaccines are necessary,” to “See, vaccines don’t do anything,” right down to “They’re evil, I tell ya!. Eeeeviiillll!”

So, what’s a dad to do? Simple, trust in logic. Try and block out those helpful individuals who always seem to “know a guy who knows a guy who had a kid who…” That’s hardly scientific evidence. Also try and avoid the new age group who sneers at medical procedures that have been practiced for centuries and have raised life expectancy to unprecedented highs. Most vaccines these days aren’t given as accessories. These things are deemed necessary for a reason. You want your kid to go to school? Vaccinate. Daycare? Vaccinate. Community programs? Same goes. Sure these things might not work for some individuals. My son was certainly one of them and, whereas I was irked, I still understand why these things were created in the first place. Most vaccines given under the age of three were designed not just to help the individual but also to help the population at large. In event of an outbreak it helps to have vast segments of your population who might be immune, not just for their own benefit but also for those who might not be immune who live in proximity. The logic goes something like this. If people in town (a) are infected and not vaccinated and people in town (b) are vaccinated then there ‘s a good chance that might block the spread of said virus to town (c) who might also not be vaccinated. In short, more of your population has a better chance of living longer. Ah well, that’s my rant for today. I should probably cut things short with it being Valentines Day and all.

Oh, on a side note, “Enough with the snow already!” Some of these drifts are getting taller than I am. Another Valentines day in the trenches…..sigh.