Craft: Colour flash cards from paint swatches

Five years ago, we bought a 1920s fixer-upper in an up-and-coming part of Toronto. Needless to say, we've been going to hardware stores ever since.

Anyone who's spent time in a big box store with a toddler can attest to the fact that a root canal is probably easier. Last summer, while looking at paint samples and getting mildly annoyed by the sweet-but-demanding child in the cart in front of me. That's right, my child.

They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and that's how this easy craft came about. On the fly, at the store, I chose paint swatches in primary colours, dug a hole through them with my pen and secured them to one another with a pony loop. (Yeah, just call me MacGruber.) But for a more polished version, I think anyone can make this inexpensive craft to help teach babies and toddlers about colours, or you know, to help keep them occupied.

Materials:
Paint swatches from a hardware or paint store (ideally, they should be square)
A hole punch
A binder ring (a pipe cleaner or twist tie would work too, just be careful of sharp edges)

Instructions:
1. Pick swatches in colours that appeal to your baby. (I went with vibrant shades of red, orange, green, pink, purple and blue, but feel free to come up with your own combination.)
2. Line them up and then punch a hole in one corner.
3. Secure together with binder ring.
4. Hand to your child and enjoy five minutes of peace before anyone wants your attention again.

(I don't recommend this for babies and toddlers who put everything in their mouths.)

Realizing Your Limitations

or... Why I'm Not Really an A-hole, I Just Have ADD.


I know we all joke about ADD. "Oh look, I just saw something shiny and I got distracted -- I have ADD."


When you actually have adult ADD, it's no joking matter (though it's me, so I'll likely allow it.) Every day is a struggle. I can feel my brain wanting to pull away and look elsewhere as I write this post. It's bizarre. I used to think it was merely a poor discipline thing. Lately, I've been investigating the mindfulness thing, which helps a bit. But mostly, I feel like my brain is wired wrong and I have no idea how to fix it. Some days, I'm ready to take meds to stun my brain into submission.


Being on time is a struggle. I cannot even explain to you how this is the biggest source of strain on our lives. My inability to time manage, my constant lateness... I used to think that I chose media as a profession because of the deadlines. If people gave me a deadline, I had to stick to it right? But it's a struggle. I can't focus easily, get distracted easily and before I know it I am panicking and rushing to meet my deadlines.

I am pretty sure I was like this as a child too. They just didn't have this sort of diagnosis back then. Instead, my parents were constantly trying to challenge me academically, so that I wouldn't get bored. I would hyper-focus on something that I loved (usually reading or drawing) and totally space out on other tasks.

Not procrastinating is a struggle. I got a speeding ticket a while back. I could have saved myself a lot of hassle if I just filled out the damn paperwork to have a court date to contest it -- meaning it would likely get thrown out or reduced. Instead, I ignored it, hoping it would go away. The first notice arrived. I stuffed it in my bag hoping it would get dealt with somehow, but no matter how many times I schedule "ticket" or "expenses" or "insurance benefits" paperwork onto my calendar, I push it back, trying to justify it by completing another task I'm late on instead. Needless to say, I had to pay a lot more money than the original ticket to get everything back in order with my license, etc. This is very common for ADDers. We can't actually perceive time correctly, so we always think we have more time than we do.


Balancing books is a struggle. I am impulsive. I have no clue about money. The only clue I have is that I should have way more money than I do, but I can't tell you where it goes. I am not a crazy shopper like I once was. I just have no idea how to budget. I lose things of value and pretend it's not a big deal, as if losing a 20 dollar bill would be no big deal. Or I'll need to return something, but procrastinate till it's too late and then act like it's no big deal. It's bizarre, my relationship with money.

Talking to people is a struggle -- you either show them that you have no filter really fast, or you talk over them constantly. It's quite normal for me to blurt out something completely inappropriate in a meeting, or to space out and completely miss the conversation. Or respond to someone without fully understanding what they were saying and then having your reply come out sounding like you're Heidi Montag.

Listening to people(and NOT listening to people) is a struggle. Contrary to what you might think, I don't suffer from a deficit of attention, I suffer from an abundance of it. I might be listening to you, but then my brain thinks, "Hey, look at that thing over there." Or, "What's that they're talking about on the other side of the room?" Every sound, every thought becomes a distraction.

Having sex with people is a struggle: Once, during sex, early in our marriage, I blurted, "Did Kev leave his jacket here?" DURING sex. I now know that was ADD.

Being tidy is a struggle. I pick up the mail and suddenly I remember to write something down on the calendar, and then I set the mail down without thinking about it, in an unsuitable place to set the mail down. Then I can't find the mail later and I get frustrated. Clutter is everywhere. I know where to find things that are important to me, but my husband walks around the house picking up after me.

I think a lot of authors probably have ADD (creativity is one of our gifts). I remember an interview with Diana Gabaldon, where she said she often has three writings going on at the same time so she can cycle through them when she gets "stuck" on one. Wayne Johnston spoke of having a soundproof room built where he can take no calls and works till dawn. I am constantly wishing for that kind of quiet so I can hyperfocus on my characters without being interrupted to fetch someone a glass of milk.

Living with ADD and me is super hard on my husband and my kids. J says my hurdles are insurmountable to the rest of them; that they are stuck because I can't get myself unstuck. But lately, I've been doing well to get myself unstuck. I'm not cured (doubt I'll ever be), but I'm on top of it instead of letting it steamroller over me.

More to come. Thanks for your patience.

Does parenting make you happy?

"Dude, this parenting thing? It's so hard!"

If I had a dollar for every single time I said something to that effect, I'd have some very nice shoes and possibly a designer handbag. For a long time, I took comfort in wallowing in the woe-is-me (something I'm quite guilty of still, even though I know better) and so did every other mom of my generation, many of us whining online via mommy blogs.

Recently, I was obsessing (hey, nobody's perfect!) about why my almost-three-year-old was misbehaving and about how I'd messed up my 5.5 year-old, neurotic mini-me. My mother-in-law caught me reading yet another parenting book and remarked, "I never read any books, you know? I just figured it out. You will too. You already know what to do. It's not that hard."

In the midst of all the recent chatter about how studies say that parenting sucks, how it doesn't bring you happiness and how you'll be more miserable than your childless friends, I read Andrea Gordon's interview with former Babble.com founder and editor-in-chief Ada Calhoun. While I haven't read Calhoun's Instinctive Parenting: Trusting Ourselves To Raise Good Kids, I think I get the gist of it: if you block out the noise, quiet the constant stream of mental chatter and act out of true, conscious love, you're probably going to be OK (and so are your kids). We've all got it in us. No books or experts required.

Motherhood has lead me on a journey of sorts, one that ends and begins at that magical right answer: We intrinsically know what is right for our families. Most of us set out to do good by our kids, to nourish them and nurture them with love and guidance. But we get caught up in what we're doing wrong, instead of forgiving ourselves for our mistakes and celebrating our successes. We need to stop the judging/researching/obsessing and start appreciating that the key to enjoying parenthood is to just be.

The problem with the suckage of parenting lies not in the multitude of choices (because holy crap, are we ever lucky to live in a country with so much choice for moms), nor in the endless tasks that come with the job. The problem is in our thinking. We're so focused on where we need to be, or on what else we could be doing with our time (hello Twitter and work addictions!) that we absolutely miss the point. 

When we do it consciously, parenting is FUN! Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to make that sound easy. Trying to be in-the-now when there are lunches and doctor's appointments to be made takes practice. But when we are present, when we see our kids for the wonderful gifts of life that they really are, having children actually enhances the experience of living. They help us to see the beauty in the tiniest things and the insignificance of much of what we identified with before having them. They make us laugh (especially at ourselves) and high five giant M&Ms and squint to spot beach glass. They live only in the moment and remind us to do the same.

So wake up parents (and yours truly included), life isn't about all the things that are out of reach after the daycare check gets withdrawn. The secret to a happy life is in the living of it. Stop and smell the children (just maybe only after a bath...).

Craft: Make your own backyard stage for kids

With a writer/editor for a mother and videographer/editor/filmmaker for a father, it should come as no surprise that my kids have a flair for the dramatic. To be clear, I don't just mean your day-to-day histrionics (though they have their fair share of those as well). My kids have developed a love of performing. Stage plays to be exact.

After seeing their tween-age cousin perform in several school and theatre camp plays over the years, my son Nate was ad-libbing his first plays by age four. His sister, being the more physical/less cerebral one, just wants to be the star of the show and the comedic relief (picture a pint-sized, pretty Jerry Lewis with a penchant for Pikachu costumes). 
After our kid-size picnic table got too crowded (and dangerous) with both of them using it as a makeshift stage, I got it in my head that we should build a bigger, more proper platform in the backyard (with the deck stairs making for perfect amphitheatre-style seating). 

It was surprisingly easy to put together and with the addition of costumes, the three-act play that ensued (about a vampire, a talking pumpkin and three woodsmen -- complete with musical numbers!) was a hilarious, proud-mama treat. Here's how you can make one too.

What you'll need:
* A very large piece of plywood (ours is about 8 x 10, left over from a semi-complete basement reno)
* 6-8 bricks or cinder blocks
* A length of rope that can stretch from fencepost to fencepost (or tree, or whatever post-like item you might have in the yard)
* A pair of unwanted, flat sheets
* Binder clips, clothespins or vice grips to keep the sheets in place
* Old Hallowe'en costumes, dress-up gear and any hats/headgear you might have kicking around

Instructions:
1. Place the bricks/cinder blocks evenly to support edges and centre of plywood.

2. Place the plywood on top (I'm not that strong, so my husband did this part - team effort!)

3. Tie the rope across your yard (this is easy for us - our yard is only 13 feet wide)

4. Hang the sheets over the rope and tighten the rope as necessary to prevent a slump in the middle.

5. Secure the sheets with vice grips/binder clips/clothespins as needed.

5. Pass them the costumes, give them a little prompt for inspiration and watch their creativity come alive.

Originally published on Sweetspot.ca