Gracie's Flip Flop Invitations

    Gracie turned 11 on June 3, five days after my major nose reconstruction.  I apologized profusely, but the fact was her birthday would stink this year, or so we thought.  I was really proud of her, she didn't put up much fuss.  I told her that she could invite her best friend for a sleep over on Saturday night.  Her best friend is a no maintenance kid, and I felt like I could be on bed rest if necessary.  It turns out that Gracie's birthday was pretty good after all.  She invited Abby over, they giggled most of the night and looked at Tiger Beat magazine, while eating profuse amounts of junk.  Sunday I felt well enough for us to go to the Great Canadian Cheese Festival, and we had a great time.  Her birthday turned out to be quiet, but good.

    Because of my surgery we had to delay her birthday party.  She was not really thrilled with this, but what choice was there.  We have rented the local pool for later this month, and are going to have a barbecue afterwards.  Because the pool is pretty large, we told her that she could invite as many kids as she would like... turns out she wants to invite... wait for it... wait for it 48 kids.  She also decided that she would like her birthday invitations (all 48 of them) to look like flip flops.  Now I really had to put my creative cap on.

    Most times I have a great idea, it does not translate beyond the idea.  I am pretty creative, just not always beyond my thinking.  This time, I have really surprised myself.  My idea actually turned out pretty cute.  I went to the dollar store yesterday and purchased 4 packs of foam sheets (they came 12 per package).  I also purchased two bunches of the silk flowers, and some bristol board.

    The first thing I did to begin was to trace out one of Elly's size 7 toddler shoes onto bristol board.  This became my template.  I then used that template to trace out 48 more shoes onto bristol board.

When that tedious task was complete, I then cut out 48 shoes using the foam.  I cut a strip of foam for each flip flop that measured almost a centimeter wide, and 20 centimeters long (the length of the foam sheet, pretty handy).  This strip would become the strap.

    After all of that tedious cutting was complete, I used my smallest hole punch and punched one hole in the top of the foam, and two half way down on both sides.

I then folded my strip in half and tapered the centre and the ends so that they would 

easily fit into the holes I had just punched into the foam.

I  then gently pulled the strip through the holes.

After the strip is in place, I used a glue stick to fasten a piece of bristol board onto the bottom of the foam (covering up the bottom).  I then put the printed information on the bottom (Grace's birthday, time, place, RSVP by...) on the bristol board.  The last step was to cut a single flower off of the bunch, and then to hot glue it onto the flip flop.

Gracie was delighted with the invitations (o.k. I've made 9 out of the 48, I've got a long night ahead of me).  I'm looking forward to hearing about her friend's reactions.

Teacher's Gifts...

    We are quickly approaching the end of the school year.  This leaves me with a mixture of relief and dread.

Relief in the fact that the school routine is drawing to a close and it will soon be the lazy, hazy days of summer.  Dread because the end of the school year seems to bring with it a hefty price tag!  Last month with the school fun fair, food days, and various fun raising we handed the school over $200.00.  This month will be close to that again with class trips.  I have 4 kids in school (Elly goes to nursery school one morning a week), that means lots of teachers and teaching assistants.   That means gifts, gifts mean more money.
    I was looking at my favourite new site, PINTEREST and discovered some really thoughtful, inexpensive teachers gifts.  I would like to give credit for this craft, to giglesgalorenmore.blogspot.com.  She has some really neat craft ideas. These flower pots just look so thoughtful.

    I started off with clay pots which I purchased at Walmart for $1.06 each.  I bought 11 of them.  I covered my kitchen table with a cheap dollar store table clothe and got to work.  I pulled off all of the stickers from the bottom, and painted the bottoms black.  When they had dried I then painted the top rim in a bright sunny yellow.  I also painted the inside of the pot that would be seen over top of the dirt when they have been planted with flowers.  It took 3 coats to really get the right amount of coverage that I wanted.

    After the yellow had dried I painted the bottoms black.  The black paint took about 2 coats.  It then took a few touch ups here and there, because my hand was not quite as steady as I would have liked and there was some yellow on my black and some black on my yellow.

    To save time I used a "sharpie" marker to draw the ruler on the top of the pots.  My first one I used a ruler and pencil and marked out the exact centimeters.  I lost patience for the second and decided to just free hand it.

    I had this brilliant idea, I would get the kids to write in chalk and write the message for their own teachers.  It looked great in their handwriting.  Even Elly got in on it.  My plan was to spray a top coat of clear spray over the top to keep the chalk on and to make the pots outdoor ready.  It all went perfectly until I sprayed the first pot and the chalk just melted off.  I swore a little under my breath, then brought all the pots back into the house and painted the messages on them.

    When it is all said and done, I am really happy with the way that they look.  It will cost approximately $3.00 a pot including the flower for each teacher.  We can show our appreciation with a thoughtful gift, and still buy groceries, it's a win win.

The pots say "Thank you for helping me grow"

  On the last week of school I will buy a bag of potting soil and a flat of flowers.  I'm going to let the kids plant the pots.  I think they will have fun, and it also gives them a hand in this handmade gift.  I will probably regret this idea within seconds of the kids starting, but in theory, it's a great idea.  Come back in two weeks and I'll show and tell how the planting went.

Can you guess this one is for Gracie's french teacher?

Hidden Goldmine Bakery

    Every Thursday I take Elly to Madoc for her speech therapy.  Elly has an amazing vocabulary, she just has trouble making those sounds.  We're not sure why she does, we suspect (her therapist and ourselves) that possibly it's a jaw co-ordination thing.  The point is she needs extra help, and I take her to Madoc to get it.  Elly looks forward to seeing Lindsay every Thursday.  

    Last Thursday for some reason I got us to Madoc half an hour early.  I wondered how we would fill in that time.  Half an hour is a long time to sit and wait.  Half an hour is not long enough to go to the park without lots of tears.  As we drove through the downtown, I noticed a new sight, "The Hidden Goldmine Bakery".  Maybe we should check it out! 

    The store is big and bright and welcoming.  Elly and I walked around a little to explore.  We then wandered up to the counter to pick her treat.  My Elly is a cookie monster.  He favourite cookie is chocolate chip.  As we approached the baking display we discovered that there were only oatmeal raisin or oatmeal cranberry and raisin cookies.  Elly decided to try one anyway.  We also bought an orange soda, that came in a fun preserve mug.

    Elly ran and found us a seat.  She did not like the oatmeal cookie, but she sure fell in love with the gingerbread friends who were sitting beside us.  She loved sharing the orange soda.  She would take a sip and then pass it to me "Your turn".  I just fell in love with that little girl all over again as she sat there drinking that pop.  I was glad we were too early for speech and found this little gem.

  

    Although the store is new, the bakery is not.  Hidden Goldmine Bakery has been around for a few years now.  I believe they began making things from their home and have had to expand to meet their demand.  The first time I ever saw Hidden Goldmine Bakery was at a craft sale in Thomasburg.  There was this nice dark haired lady with samples of her fudge.  I thought that was pretty clever of her, because once I took one taste, I was hooked.  The fudge is like the kind that Christopher's grandma made, and I have now taken over her legacy.  The thing I most like about the Hidden Goldmine fudge, is that I don't loose the feeling in my arm making it, but still enjoy eating it.  Since the fudge they have gone on to expand their candy line.  They have all kinds of old fashioned candy now.

    The store is lovely and bright, and well spaced out.  It felt very relaxing sitting there.  If you find yourself in the Madoc area it's worth a stop by.  If you don't find yourself in Madoc, Hidden Goldmine treats can be purchased all over the area, and you are in for a treat if you purchase them.

To find out more information about places that you can visit in central Ontario 

ontariohighlands.ca

My Nose Surgery and It's Unexpected Benefits

    When I look at this picture in the past it has been with a mixture of happiness, and an equal dose of sadness.  There are very few pictures of Christopher and I together.  Gracie took this picture of us on our vacation to Boston, it was in Wood's Hole.  We had a beautiful day at the ocean.  When I see this picture, my mind takes me back to that amazing vacation.  When I look at this picture the first thing I see is not the whole picture, but my nose, and that breaks my heart.

    There was a time that I had a really nice nose.  It was small and straight.  It was not perfectly straight, it had a little bump at the top which was a little parting gift from the day I was 11 and did a face plant off my new bike (and broke all the bones in my wrist).  When Christopher and I were first dating he called me "Chief Little Nose".  As the kids came along each of them tried to break my nose, it took the last to seal the deal.

    It seems funny even to me to be so uninvested in my over all appearance, but to be so fixated on my nose.  Everyday I would trace my nose's crooked slope, and feel sad.  Sometimes I childishly pulled it back to where it belonged and it sprung to it's uneven place.  I think for me the largest part of it that last straw part of it, that complete loss of control.  In the past 7 years I have had 5 surgeries including this latest.  I have one more expected later this year.  My nose is the only surgery that does not go back to our car accident.  My abdomen has begun to look like a pirate's map... I'm o.k. with that, that does not bother me.  I have an ugly keloid scar that runs the length of my abdomen, it is flanked by several smaller lesser scars from other surgeries.  I will be honest, I would feel guilty to not carry scars from that accident when my son lost his life, and Gracie carries both emotional and physical scars from it.

    The nose is kind of like "Have I not suffered enough?"  Even in writing it, it sounds overly dramatic, but honestly that is kind of what it felt like.  It was like one more loss.  As time went by it got worse and worse, to the point that I could barely breath out of it.  Part of me is a little embarrassed to be so vain, part of me says, "What's wrong with that?"  Why should I have to suffer?  Why should I just accept this?  As the breathing steadily became worse, I knew that I needed to get it seen to.

    About 16 years ago I had seen a local ear nose and throat doctor who had done surgery to correct my deviated septum.  He was a butcher.  I was in agony.  I had a nurse come to my apartment every day for several days to give me morphine shots.  I did not want to go through that kind of pain again, but I also did not want my nose to collapse.  When my family doctor referred me to a specialist, I made it clear that I would not be seeing the butcher again.  They referred me to a lovely, gentle ear nose and throat surgeon named Gabriel Fuoco in Peterborough, Ontario.  He took one look at my nose and told me that he was not the man for the job.  He refereed me to his mentor, Dr. Oakley Smith in Toronto.

    I had a consultation with Dr. Oakley Smith in his Toronto office.  I instantly felt like this was the right decision.  He was really nice, and answered all of my questions.  Not only is he really nice, he has amazing credentials.  He is a facial cosmetic surgeon.  He is an assistant professor at the University of Toronto.  He is the surgeon -in-chief of department of otolaryngology-head and neck surgery at Toronto East General hospital.  He has been featured in magazines and on television.  If his credentials did not seal the deal, his lovely kind manner certainly did.  We booked my surgery date, May 29, 2012.

Dr. Oakley Smith

    As the surgery date approached I became more and more excited, until about a week before, and then I became nervous.  Was it wrong to get this fixed, even though I really could not breath through my nose.  My husband was taking valuable holidays to be home with me.  I worried about the pain, thinking back to the deviated septum surgery.  By the time it was surgery morning, I was nearly beside myself.  I had never been worried like this in any of my surgeries, but then they had not really been elective.  When we registered that morning they told me that the person before me had eaten, and they were glad I was early, I could take his surgical spot.  They whisked me into the OR, I barely had time to catch my breath, or kiss my husband good-bye.

    When I walked into the OR, I was so nervous, and there was Dr. Smith.  He stopped what he was doing to speak to me, to reassure me.  It would not be overly painful, he told me, more uncomfortable.  His voice was gentle, reassuring, the panic began to slightly lessen.  I then met the rest of the OR team, the two super nice and kind nurses.  The anesthesiologist, was so kind and re-assuring.  I told him that I usually have a violent vomit reaction to anesthetics, and I was worried about that with my nose.  He then talked me through, what he could do to lessen that.  Every single one of them was so kind and gentle with me, even bringing me a warm blanket.  The kind anesthesiologist then asked me where I would like to go on vacation.  Why don't I think about palm trees as I drift off, and so I did.

Day of the surgery

    When I woke up I did not feel horrendous pain.  When Christopher came to get me, still not horrendous pain, more I woozy.  I took a pain killer before we left the hospital.  I slept the entire car ride home.  I wobbled into the house, still no horrendous pain, careful to take my painkillers.

Day 2

    Over the next few days my face swelled up like a balloon, and turned fifty shades of black, blue, green and purple.  There was pain, but it turns out Dr. Smith was telling the truth, it was not unbearable pain.  I stayed in bed and rested for the most part.  I took my painkillers as I needed to.

Day 4

Day 5, I even went out in public.

    I went for the surgery on Tuesday, May 29.  I went for a check up on Friday, June 1.  Dr. Smith

looked at my nose, took out a few stitches.  By this point there was not terrible pain, but the pressure in my nose and head was terrible.  I asked if I could take anything for that.  Dr. Smith said I could, but he doubted that it would help with the congestion.  We stopped on the way home and bought Advil Cold and Sinus medication.  It did not get rid of the congestion (that was caused by plastic stints holding up my new nose), but it made all of the difference in the world to my pressure, it became bearable, less claustrophobic.    I was only really needing pain medication before bed.

June 5, I got the stints out, and my cast off.  Getting the stints out was not painful, but it was also not entirely pleasant.  An amazing thing happened when he took the stints out... I could breath!  I had forgotten what it felt like to breath out of my nose it had been so many years.  Then the cast came off my nose.  I sat feeling a little fearful waiting for the shoe to drop... it didn't.  Then Dr. Smith put a mirror in front of me and asked how I liked my nose.  I blurted out "IT'S BEAUTIFUL!"  Yes, that's a vain thing to say, but to me it was.  When we were all finished I asked Dr. Smith if I could hug him.  He looked a little taken aback.  Not in a way that he found my request to be repugnant, but more in a way that he did not often get asked for hugs from his patients.  How could I not hug him, he had given me an amazing gift, how did more people not want to hug him?

Day 8

    On day 8, the day after the stints were removed, I had a bit more pain than previous days.  My top lip looks a little like Moe from the Simpsons.  My bruising is almost all gone, but I have a bit more swelling (apparently the stints were holding some of it at bay).  Even with the unexpected pain, it's still bearable pain (especially with the pain killers).  I keep running my finger ever so gently down my nose.  I am in disbelief how straight it is.  Every time I do it I want to cry with joy!  It will take at least 6 months for all the swelling to go, and for me to see my nose in it's end result, but so far I love it!

    I have to say that this surgery has been an amazing gift.  It has been a gift on so many levels.  The most obvious is to my self-esteem.  Now when I look in the mirror I won't want to cry, I will smile, when I see my beautiful nose returned to it's rightful place.  The most unexpected gift has been the gift of peace.  I have lay in bed for a week.  My kids each took turns coming in for a cuddle and to watch t.v. or just to talk.  At one point Rowan came in for a snuggle, and I fell asleep with with him all cuddled in beside me, it was bliss.  I did not realize the degree of stress that I live with on an ongoing basis, until I had a complete vacation from it.  For one whole week, all I had to do is to get better.  It did not just help my nose to get better, it helped my soul to get better.  It's funny how these things work.

droakleysmithrhinoplasty.com

The Story Of How Elly Broke My Nose...

It's hard to believe that someone who looks so angelic
could inflict such damage with the back of her head.

    I have been promising you two stories for a few days now.  The story of how Elly broke my nose, and the story about the cast on my nose.  I will share the first story with you today, and you can stay tuned tomorrow for the second story (I know cliff hanger right).  This is not just any story, no, it's a story that has intrigue, and adventure... o.k. it's a slice of my everyday life.  This story takes place about two years ago....

    As you may recall, my husband is a funeral director.  He finds his job to be very personally fulfilling.  Because he works for a small family owned company he is on call literarily 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  It is not unusual for him to work a 9 hour day, get home for an hour, and be called out again for several hours.  At first it was very difficult to get used to this.  When he goes to bed at night, it is not uncommon for him to receive a 3 a.m. call to go out.  After 10 years, I do not like it any better, but I am accustomed to it.  There, I have set the stage for the first part of the story.
    On this particular early summer evening, Christopher had been working non-stop.  I think it may have been like a 60 hour work week he had put in.  He had left for work before I woke, and had arrived home from work at about 8 p.m.  The kids had been really bad for some reason that day (maybe it just felt like extra bad because I had been a single parent that week).  I was at my complete wits end when Christopher came home that day.  He had been on a Toronto run.  When he finally stumbled into the house he was speaking like Spider-man "Don't feel so well, got to lie down".  With that he, without further speech went into our bedroom and collapsed for the night.
    I was so frustrated.  I put the kids to bed, and they fought me all the way.  I lay with Elly to get her to sleep, she would not settle.  She thrashed, and kicked and fought me.  "Want Dadda, Want Dadda!!!" She then brought her head back as hard as she could into my nose.  I just lay there, in white hot pain, seeing those little white dots in that darkness.  When the white hot pain slightly subsided I cried and slid out of the bed, trying not to move my head.  "You are on your own little girl", I angrily told her.  I took some tylenol 3, and finished up all of my "have to's".  By the time I was able to climb into the bed it was 1 a.m.  I was not a very happy lady, and my nose kind of filled my face, and my black eyes were beginning to develop.
    I had just dozed off when Christopher woke me moaning.  "My stomach is killing me." he said.  Now I am not trying to make excuses for my less than compassionate response, but I feel I should include some history at this point.  For as long as I have known Christopher he has suffered from stomach problems.  I have rushed him to emergency dozens of times with him doubled over.  In the end they send him home with some strong painkillers and no answers.  He is super dopey for a few days, and then he is right as rain.  This has been going on for twenty years.  Every time it is the same thing.
Back to the story.... so I had just dozed, he woke me moaning.  I, being the compassionate loving wife (with a nose that was by this point completely spread across her face) rolled over and said in a not so loving voice..."Well if it's that bad, maybe you should go to the hospital."  He decided that he should, it was approximately 2 a.m.  As he was leaving I shouted after him "Drive carefully", which sounds like a nice thing to say, but not in the way that I said it.  I then fell asleep.
     I woke up to the phone ringing at 8 a.m.  It was Christopher, I was expecting the "I just have to wait for the drugs to wear off, and I'll be home.", instead I got a groggy "They are prepping me for surgery, it's my appendix".  My response "OH MY GOD, I'll be there as soon as I can get there!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I then made a frantic call to my parents for Mom to come and watch the kids, and for Dad to drive me to the hospital.   I got there just before they took him into surgery.  His response on seeing me
"Oh my God, your nose!"  They then took him into surgery.  Apparently if he had not gone in when he did his appendix would have ruptured.  It was in really terrible shape when they took it out.
    That is the story of how Elly broke my nose, and I was a royal _itch to my husband.  My nose healed to look like the letter "C", and I was SUPER nice to my husband for a week (it wore off again after that).  Stay tuned tomorrow for the story of my surgery.

"Good Parent" Role Reversal

    I had a very interesting realization this morning as I lay in bed listening to Christopher getting the kids ready for school, I like being the "good" parent.  For the last week (since my surgery) I have been the "secondary" parent in this house.  Christopher has been the heavy.  He has been the disciplinarian, the one who makes lunches, does chores, shuttles the kids around.... I may not trade back.  I like speaking to the kids in a serene loving voice all of the time.  I am enjoying doling out my attention, hugs and snuggles, it's pretty nice.
    In normal life I am the "main" parent.  Often with Christopher's schedule, or lack there of (he's a funeral director who works for a family business and is on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week) I feel like a single parent.  I am the parent who gets them ready for school in the morning, he has to get himself ready for work.  I am the one who disciplines them.  I am the one who shuttles them around to doctors appointments, sporting events, friends houses, who the teachers call to help on class trips and activities.  I am the one who makes treats to take for class.  In other words I run this house, sometimes with an iron fist to make sure that things run smoothly.  As I lay in bed and did some calculations, on an average week Christopher spends approximately 32 waking hours a week with the kids.  That breaks down to 3 hours a day on school days, 17 hours on week-ends.  On the school schedule I spend 59 waking hours a week with the big kids.  On holidays and in the summer that turns into 84 waking hours a week (84 hours a week is what I spend with Elly).  This number does not count for injuries or sickness and then that number gets higher.
    Christopher is the "good guy".  He is the one who gives airplane rides.  He give shoulder rides.  He is the guy who does tag team wrestling.  He is the fun guy.   When the kids see him walking home they drop what they are doing and run to him screaming "DADDY".  I can only imagine what this would to for my self esteem.  Riley asked me one day "Would it hurt your feelings if Daddy was my favourite?" ahh yes, yes it would was what my brain said, my mouth said "no".  I then, being me countered it with "Would it hurt your feelings if I told you that Rowan was my favourite?"......"MOM!"  At our house Daddy is the favourite, and honestly why wouldn't he be?  There was a time (it seems like eons ago) that I was a working mom.  When I got home from work I did not want to discipline Gabe, I hadn't seen him all day, I felt guilty that I was not there, and more than anything else, I didn't have the energy.  I let him away with quite a bit when I was working.  I also know that it feels much better to be "The Favourite", and it's easier to let the other parent be the heavy.
    There are many times that the childish me wants to yell at them "BUT I'm the one who sacrifices everything for you!"  "I'm the one who would walk through fire for you, I would give my life for you!"  "Who do you want when you're sick or hurt?  Who do you want when you're sad?  Who is the one that all the kids in your class say that they wish was their mom?"  "Who is the parent that you wanted to deal with the bull teacher?  It wasn't Daddy, no you wanted you tiger mother to make him cry!"
I say none of this.  I think one day they will see it.... I hope that one day they will see and appreciate the sacrifices that I make for them.
    I know how important it is for them to have a strong male role model.  In some ways a strong male role model effects their emotional well being as an adult more than a loving mother does.  Rowan needs to have role model.  He needs to learn how to behave as a man.  Christopher is an excellent father.  He is loving and patient and fun.  I want Rowan to grow up to be like his father, if he grows up to be like his father he will be a good man.  I want my girls to see how their father treats me, treats them.  He is a good provider.  He is a physically strong man, he is an emotionally strong man, and at the same time gentle and kind.  If my girls use their father as a role model when they pick husbands, they will have happy marriages, happy lives.  I know all of this.  I just want to share the love sometimes.
    For the time being I will bask in the warm sunshine of "the good" parent.  I will sit back and enjoy being the person who is not in charge of discipline. For the next week, I am only in charge of hugs and snuggles.  For the next week I do not need to raise my voice, I will not get frustrated with them.  I can use the kind and gentle voice that I always feel, and wish I could always use.  In other words I will treasure this vacation.

Making Cheese At Home

    As you my avid reader knows I love food from scratch.  I like knowing what I am feeding my family, but more than that it gives me a sense of satisfaction knowing that "I made that".  For some time now I have been wanting to learn how to make my own cheese.  When my friends and I go to Chapters (we actually spend more time at Starbucks) I find my way over to the recipe section and start looking at the cheese making books, of which there are few, and the ones that are there, are expensive.  The last time we were there, one of my girlfriends rolled her eyes at me and asked "Seriously, you would make your own cheese?"  My answer, "YES, I would love to make my own cheese!"  Her snotty response "Oh I forgot, it's you I'm talking to YOU, would make your own cheese.  The rest of us just go to the store and buy it." We then made our way over to Starbucks for my beloved Caffe Mocha.

    When we went to the Great Canadian Cheese Festival last Sunday, I was nearly jumping up and down with joy when I saw "Making Cheese At Home" (I could not literally jump up and down because of the acute pain in my nose from reconstructive surgery the Tuesday before... I promise shortly I will share that story).  There standing behind a table clothed table were two people holding the key to my current dream!  Maybe I can take "make cheese" off of my bucket list after all.  I was intrigued.

    Peter and Doreen Sullivan teach a cheese making class out of their home in Niagara Falls.  In this class you learn how to make Camembert and Roquefort style cheese using ordinary kitchen equipment (they had me at make your own cheese).  Participants take home samples of their work to age at home.  I am not sure that our cheese would make it past the car ride home to have the opportunity to age.  You can also purchase starter kits so that you can make more cheese when you get home.  The cost of the class is $150.00 a person.

At their booth they had a draw for one lucky person to win a free class.  Gracie filled out a ballet for me.  I have my fingers crossed.  In retrospect I should have filled out every single ballet!  To me it would make for an amazing week-end to go to Niagara Falls grab one of the amazing deals that you can often find on their 4-star hotels, then wander over to see Peter and Doreen and make cheese.  If you are reading this honey, that would sure make a nice anniversary gift.... hint hint.

    If you are as intrigued by cheese making as I am, you may want to visit this website for more information. www.makingcheeseathome.ca

Mad Mexican/ Motherhood Club

    Over the next few days I will be sharing with you some of the stand out vendors and experiences from Sunday's Great Canadian Cheese Festival.  No vendors stood out more to me than the "Mad Mexicans".  This vendor stood out for two very different ways, first their amazing product, and second because I had a light bulb moment after speaking to them.

    Christopher and Grace LOVE salsa and nacho chips.  There is not too much of a better snack to give the pair of them.  As we came up to the "Mad Mexican" booth, both of their eyes lit right up, and I had to jog to keep up with them. It was a father / daughter mission.  As we approached (or as I should say, as I caught up) I was impressed by their selection.  I was further impressed with the pride that beamed out of their faces.  It was not pompous pride that you sometimes see in people (you know those people they work so hard to convince you that they are the best), no it was a humble pride (I don't need to toot my own horn, my product does it by itself). These are people who make an amazing product and are proud to share it with you, I like that.  After speaking to them, we discovered that Jose is from Mexico.  Their products are made according to Mexican tradition, in other words they are authentic.  You could taste the quality ingredients in their dips and in their chips.

    Jose Hadad not only works with his partner, Dianne Lee making The Mad Mexican, he is also owner and chef at Frida Restaurant in Toronto.  Their products are Fresh, All natural, Preservative Free, Handmade, and Gluten Free!  In other words, they make them in the way that way that I would make them for my family (if I could cook Mexican).  In our home I try to make everything from scratch (I make my own salad dressings and ice-cream).  It's important to me to know that I can pronounce the ingredients that I feed to my growing children.  So far the Mad Mexican is two for two in my books.   They are exceptionally friendly and nice, and they produce a quality product, to me it does not get any better than that!  They also carry a great selection, Chunky Guacamole, Morita Salsa (Salsa Roja), Two-way Jalapeno Bean Dip, Roasted Tomatillo and Avocado Salsa.  Their nacho chips are all made by hand using no fillers, no artificial colours and are lightly coated in sea salt.

Look at the beautiful tiny chopped pieces of real tomato, onion,
jalapeno peppers,  the colander.  Those are "real" ingredients.

Jose Hadad

    So now for my light bulb moment.  While Christopher was standing taking to Jose and Dianne, Dianne looked at Christopher's media badge that said his name and "themiddleagedwomanwholivedinashoe.blogspot.com", she had to know what that was about.    When he told her about the blog, she laughed and laughed because we call our little house "the shoe".  She then asked me how I did it.  I appreciated the way that she asked it.  Have you ever met someone for the very first time and instantly liked them?  As soon as I began to speak to Dianne, I instantly liked her.  I could envision us drinking coffee and having a good laugh.   Most times when people see that I have four kids, they make a snarky remark "are they all yours?" (said in the way that you might say to someone who raises rats), or the ultra hilarious "Do you guys even own a t.v.?"(to this one they think that they are hilarious, me ... not so much.)  When Dianne "How do you do it?" it was with a tone of respect.  I did not have these kids accidentally, they were all planned (well the twins not so much, because how do you plan for twins).  They were all very much wanted, and are all very much loved.  We provide everything for them that they could need.

Dianne Lee

    I sometimes wonder if "Woman's Lib" really accomplished what it set out to.  Wasn't the goal to allow women the right to choose what was right for them?  Today's woman has so much pressure on her shoulders.  You are pressured to be in the work force, but made to feel guilty if you are and have kids.  You are selfish if you choose not to have children, but inconsiderate if you have more than two.  If you are a stay at home mom, you are looked down on.  I have had countless well meaning friends asking when I was going to go back to work.  News flash, being a stay at home mother is work, I just don't get paid!  My point on this, is not to complain, but to make a point.  As women, we need to be nicer to each other, more understanding.  So often as women we react to questions or situations in a self defensive way.  If we see someone doing a really great job as a stay at home mom, instead of saying "good for her", we say "Well that must be nice to sit around all day, while I work my butt off, and pay someone to look after my baby."  What you are really saying is that " I wish that I could make that choice", or "I wish that was something that I desired".  The opposite is also true of stay at home moms who see their counterparts wearing stylish clean clothes, wearing make up, going on fancy vacations.  Instead of being happy for them and their decision, we say "must be nice to pay someone else to raise your kids!"  As women we need to support each other, not attack each other.  We need to share our wisdom in a kind way, not a preachy way or deceptive way.

     Why am I telling you all of this?  Because of something that Dianne asked me, and because I really liked her.  She asked "how I put the kids to bed?"  I realized when I got home I did not tell her, so if you're reading this Dianne, this is what has worked for us....

    Let me first begin by saying I have been a professional MOM for the last 17 years.  You would think with this many years under my belt, and this many children I would have all of the answers.  It is only really in the last 8 years that I would say I was good at my job.  Here is my wisdom to impart.  I think that every parent knows their own truth.  When you ask someone for their opinion you are looking for validation usually, not their opinion.  You know what your values are, you know how you want to raise your kids.  The other thing that is true for me is, don't trust the so called "experts".  The "experts" come around toting their fads every five minutes.  Because they call themselves "experts", doesn't mean that they are.  To me an "expert at parenting" is a parent who has raised happy, well adjusted children into adulthood.  For me what I want for my children when they leave me is to be comfortable in their own skins.  I want them to wear my love like an invisible sweater.  When times get tough, and they will because that's how we grow, I want them to use my love and know that it will all be alright in the end.  I want my children not to necessarily find wealth, but to find happiness.  I want them to find a partner who will love them for them, worts and all.  The most difficult part of my theory on parenting is that I won't know if it's right for 10 - 16 more years.  All I can do is love them unconditionally and teach them the values that I think are most important, and weather the storms as they come.

    So the answer to getting them to go to sleep?  For us, I lay with them until they fell asleep.  I have never been a cry it out advocate.  It just seems mean to me.  We lay with them, then very carefully climbed out of their beds.  So many people think this is a terrible idea, but guess what, I don't care what they think.  When we felt that they were ready to learn how to fall asleep on their own, we taught them gradually.  We told them the night before that "tomorrow you are going to sleep like a big kid (at this point I insert the name of the older sibling that they at that moment in time idolize)."  The next night we sat on the end of their bed.  The "experts" tell you to abstain from reassuring them, just ignore them.  Once again this felt mean to me.  I reassured them and told them it was time to go to sleep like a big kid, I would stay there the whole time until they fell to sleep.  I sat on the end of the bed for a few days, then sat on the floor beside the bed for a few days.  From there to their door way.  From there to outside of the door way.  Outside of the doorway for us was the longest step in the process.  I kept a book, and enjoyed the quiet "me" time.  That is what worked best for us.  I will say this, and not wanting to toot my own horn, but so far I have really nice, kind kids.  Are they perfect, no, but I wouldn't want perfect, that would be too boring.

    Sunday we met two really nice people who have a really great business.  Right now you can only purchase their products in Toronto, but if you go to their website you can see a list of the places that you can purchase their superior product.

madmexican.ca

If you find yourself in Toronto at any of the locations that they sell their "Mexican Food Revolution", you really should buy as much as you can eat (remember they only use whole ingredients, and no preservatives, unlike the other garbage, this stuff has a shelf life)

    One last thing to say how nice this couple is, when we were talking to them, we mentioned that it was Gracie's birthday.  That sweetheart, Dianne told Gracie "You need gifts for your birthday."  She then gave Gracie a bag of their nacho chips and told her to pick out a dip of her choice.  She then said "Oh that's not enough", and told her to pick out one more.  Jose, then handed Gracie another one, for a total of "3 dips".  They totally made her day.  She was smiling so much I thought that her little face might burst.  Nice people!!!!

Gracie's birthday snack.

The Great Canadian Cheese Festival

    Oh my goodness what a fantastically fun day my family had Sunday at The Great Canadian Cheese Festival!  I just had surgery to reconstruct my nose (see a few blogs in the future for more details) last Tuesday, and I was not sure how I would feel about going out in public with a bruised face and a cast on my nose.  I also did not know how I would physically feel.  Add to all of that Sunday, was Grace's 11th birthday.  I so desperately wanted to go to this wonderful festival, but there were so many things that might prevent us from going.  I had my fingers crossed that we could go.

    Sunday morning, I felt pretty good.  Grace had invited her best friend for a sleep-over, and they were both agreeable to come.   We loaded the car full, literally full of kids, and set off for the Crystal Palace in Picton, Ontario.  As we left, the clouds looked dark and ominous, and there were little droplets of rain hitting the windshield.  The closer we got to Picton, the nicer the weather became (even Mother Nature was co-operating).

    We were greeted by the lovely lady who invited me to come to the festival, Sennah.  Oh my goodness what a bright ray of sunshine she was.  We entered the gates and were transported to cheese lovers paradise.  Not just cheese lovers, food lovers paradise.  There were festive tents as far as the eye could see.  We decided to begin our journey at the kids section.  My guys LOVED the cow that they could milk.  It was so much fun for them.  When they had finished the people at the booth gave them an "I milked a cow" sticker.  To those of you not in the know, stickers are a child's currency.  These people may as well have handed them a five dollar bill.

    After milking the big cow, the kids set upon the petting area.  We got to pet a "water buffalo".  They look a lot like cows.  I reached my hand over to pet this big friendly beast, and discovered that it's fur was not soft like a cows.  It's fur was wiry.  I was really taken by surprise.  There were also baby water buffalo that the kids were quite taken by.  They patted calfs, sheep, and looked at a goat.  The big girls went and found out what milking cows ate, and what calves were fed.  They really found it interesting.

The BIG Cheese himself, Georgs Kolesnikovs.
He is the president of  "The Great Canadian Cheese Festival".

    I met a celebrity!!!!!!!!  He was really, really nice.  Kris Holden-Reid is one of the stars of "Lost Girl", I personally know him from "The Tudors".  I snapped his picture, and he stood up and asked if I would like a picture with him (part of me wonders if he was being nice, and part of me wonders if he was saving himself from the slightly scary uber fans that were chatting his ear off).  I just can't believe what a nice, nice person he was.  Kris was there making grilled cheese sandwiches and the money raised would go to help a student learn the cheese making arts.  You just don't expect movie stars to be that nice and humble.

    The organizers thought of everything, they even had paramedics 

standing by incase they were needed.

    We really enjoyed going from booth to booth sampling everything in sight.  Both Christopher and I noticed how very nice all of the vendors were.  I have never actually seen anything quite like it before.  No one was trying to push their wares, they loved what they did, and wanted to share with you.  It was a really neat experience.  To me if you are proud of your products then you generally have impeccably high quality products.  While Christopher and I were impatient for the people in front of us to just "shut up and move along",  the vendors were excited to talk to them, answer their questions. 

The girls from Jensen / Wilton Cheese.  They were super friendly and nice.
You may want to go back a few blogs and read about The Wilton Cheese Factory

Robert Henderson from Henderson Farms on Wolfe Island.

Bella Casara Water buffalo cheese

La Moutonniere yummy shortbreads from Warkworth

The Mad Mexican (see tomorrow's blog for more about them)

Casa- Dea Winery were our heros.  They gave the kids juice boxes.

With your admission you received 10 tasting tickets,
a cheese cooler bag and a lovely little wine glass.

Fromagerie Les Folies Bergeres are from Quebec, and make
the most beautiful brie I have ever in my life tasted!

    We will most definitely be back next year.  As we were leaving Rowan declared that "This was one of the best days ever!".  I have to agree with him.  Every person from the volunteers to the vendors was super friendly, super nice (if you read my blog on a regular basis, then you know how important this is to me).  I left feeling like that was time well spent, with a big stupid grin on my face.  There is something to be said for people who hold themselves to a high standard.  The vendors make high quality products, but reasonably priced.  It was a great day.  To you that missed it this year, too bad for you, you should mark it on your calendar for next year... I certainly will.

Sennah and her helpers