You can't get there from here...

A few weeks ago I was talking to a girl at the gym who is in her last year of high school. She had been accepted at one university but was still waiting to hear back from the program at the top of her list. Although it has been more than twenty years since I applied to university, I vividly remember the anxiety she was describing as she talked about checking her mailbox each day.

I was seventeen and it was mid-June. I was at school preparing to write one of my last exams. I had already heard back from Queen's and Ottawa U -- both had accepted me for general arts -- but I was holding out for Carleton. I had applied for the journalism program and the competition was stiff. One of my friends had gone home for lunch that day and had come back to school with a letter from Carleton offering an early acceptance to their engineering program. I called home and begged my mom to check the mail. Yes, there was a letter from Carleton. No, she was not going to open it before my exam.

Is it a big envelope or a little envelope? I asked. Is there a department on the return address? Tell me something... anything.... I begged.

I got home that afternoon and called my dad so he could hear the news along with everyone else. I got in. I screamed. I danced. I read the letter four times (later I would even frame it).

At that moment I felt that my life was set; I was going to be a journalist. My first choice was magazine writing but I would have been happy working for a major newspaper. I was going to live in Europe and marry someone fabulous. I wasn't going to have kids. I didn't like children and even if I did they take a lot of time and would interfere with my career. Yep. I had it all decided.

Twenty-some years later I look back at that girl and laugh. I did finish my journalism degree but mid-way through year one I realized that I definitely did not want to be a journalist. I have three lovely daughters and I live only minutes away from the house where I grew up. (I did marry someone fabulous, though!) I am a stay-at-home mom. I studied to be a nutritionist and a personal trainer. I teach yoga and fitness classes and I am writing a romance novel in my scarce free time.

If there was a road map for life's paths and someone plotted the life I had planned against the life I have now they would probably conclude 'you can't get there from here'. But somehow I did.

With the big four-oh only eight months away I have been doing a lot of thinking about the decisions and the circumstances that lead me to where I am now. How did a girl who hated phys ed. end up teaching Spin classes? I spent my early-twenties thinking romance novels were drivel -- today I would like to see my name on the cover of one.

Over the next few weeks I will share some of these turning points with you. Some have been significant -- meeting my husband, having a baby, quitting my job -- but some happened so gradually that I barely noticed them at the time. It wasn't a sharp right or a left but a slow merge from one road to another.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about why I hate April.

clutter be gone

As most of my friends know, housework is not my strong suit. I do it because I have to. If something more fun comes up I'll drop my chores like a bad habit and save them for the following week.

I used to stress about the house being tidy but over the years I have made peace with the fact that my house is never going to end up on the pages of "Good Housekeeping". Ever. It is clean but lived in. There are four people in this family and we all have lots of stuff.

It was easier before we had kids and even easier when we had a cleaning service that came in every second week. I would invite company and organize dinner parties for the day after the amazing Lisa was scheduled to come and would do my best to 'maintain' between visits.

The winter is the worst. We have a small entrance way and the hats, boots, coats, snowpants, mitts and scarves tend to overflow their baskets making the place look cluttered. When you add in the school bags, gym bags, running shoes and purses it tends to get overwhelming. I try to close my eyes and imagine a happier Julie when the summer rolls around and my front entrance is tidier. On days like today I just snap.

"That's it," I said to Paul this morning in a snippy voice. "I'm done."

Paul looked up from his computer to see what I was stewing about.

"If any of you has something in this house they really love they had better hide it," I yelled out. "Starting tomorrow I am throwing shit out!"

Not my finest parenting moment I'll admit but they know I'm serious and should consider themselves warned. If something special goes missing next week, it won't be my fault.

When Paul and I first bought our house we had precious little to fill it. A bed, a sofa, a dresser, a desk, a dining room table, a kitchen table, our appliances and an old stereo that had only one working cassette player and a turn-table on top. We each had clothes and a mountain of books but it was pretty sparse overall. As we would give people tours of our new house we would show them the storage room, the furnace room and the back room in our basement and wonder what in the world we would ever put there.

Fifteen years later we found out. The storage rooms are packed, the closets are stuffed and we have plenty of furniture. Now we have a choice. We can get a bigger house or get rid of some stuff.

I have been talking about de-cluttering for a while. Last month I was in the bookstore and I found a book on how to de-clutter your house in seven days. I flipped through it imaging a fabulous, minimalist home and nearly made it to the cash before my friend L shattered my dreams.

"You don't need another book to add to the clutter," she said in an annoyingly logical voice. "You just need to do it."

A month later I was back at Chapters (without that spoil-sport L) and saw a book called '100 Things". Paul was already in line at the cash so I could only flip through quickly. The author was talking about how he had walked through his home puzzled by how he had accumulated so much. I could relate. It started him on a one-year journey to live with less.

I was inspired.

"I'm going to do it," I told Paul on the way home. "Over the next year I am going to throw out one hundred things." He didn't say much. I tend to come up with a lot grand schemes and lofty plans so over the years Paul had become jaded when I make these proclamations.

I ignored his lack of enthusiasm and decided to google 100 Things when I got home to learn more. The first thing I learned was that I had missed the premise of the book. He isn't throwing out 100 things - he is going to live with only 100 things!

Huh? 100 things!! I have more than 100 items of clothing. I have a magazine collection in the basement that easily tops one hundred. Don't even get me started on the books. 100 items is crazy.

I looked at his list and was shocked to see that the writer gave up his yoga mat but used up 8 items on his list for camping gear! Clearly this man was cut from a different cloth than me. He did group all of his books under one item called library which made me feel a little better but I am still shocked. He lived with those 100 items for over a year.

While I admire the man's dedication I am sticking with my own guidelines and will be content with throwing out one hundred items. There are plenty of things in my closet that I no longer wear that could be put to better use at the free store at church. I have jewelery that I don't wear and cosmetics that need to be trashed. The nail polish has taken over a larger section of the refrigerator than I would like so that is another area to work with. Do I need three yoga mats? Probably not.

In the meantime I have been thinking about what items I would need to have on my 100 Things list. It is not a serious goal but more like the game you play at dinner parties: If you were stuck on a desert island and could only bring three things, what would you choose. (For the record I would bring Paul and let him choose the other two items -- what do I know about surviving on a desert island.)

What's on your list? I would be interested to hear what items my friends couldn't live without.

Looking back at my blog posts for the past few months I realized that it has been a while since I posted any of my fiction. So, here is one from June of last year about a character named Linda, a cynical kindergarten teacher who has recently been disappointed by someone in her life. The challenged was to imagine a scenario where Linda is trying to teach her class but is being interrupted by her cell phone. The kids can only hear one side of the conversation.

________

in other words...

Linda sighed as she heard her cell phone start to ring again.

The first time it rang she had ignored it. Usually she turned her phone off during school hours but she had been getting a pep talk from her sister when the bell rang and had quickly thrown the phone in her desk drawer as the kids started to file in. Now it was circle time and she was clear across the room sitting in the old rocking chair with eighteen pairs of eyes staring at her.

When it first rang the kids giggled. She knew it was him. ‘Fly me to the moon’ was their song and she had set it as his ringtone the night they met and danced all evening at the old jazz club on Main Street.

She tried to ignore the interruption by diverting their attention.

“Samuel? Would you like to be Miss Linda’s helper today? Why don’t you come up here and pick a book for the class to read this morning?” Samuel happily scrambled over the bookshelf and considered his choices with glee. Oh, to be five again….

They were on page three when the phone rang the second time. Damn it, why did he keep calling? Linda made a face and pointed at a silly squirrel on the brightly-colored page hoping the kids laughter would drown out the tune that now made her want to cry.

If the kids noticed, no one said anything and she continued with the story. With a quick glance at the clock she noticed that it was only 9:30: it was going to be a long, long day.

She had wanted to call in sick; to pull out the list of substitute teachers who could save her from putting on her happy face for the eighteen little people who sat in front of her. Her sister convinced her to soldier on. “Linda, you need to go to work. Get up, splash some cold water on your face, load up on the Visine and face the world. What else are you going to do? Sit at home and cry for that cheating bastard?”

By 10:30 the kids were sitting at their tables to work on printing. She had spent the last hour singing loud songs and doing silly dances with them in an effort to drown out the constant calls and she knew they all needed a little downtime. But with the kids concentrating on making neat and precise R’s the phone’s ring seemed so loud it almost echoed. Enough.

“Excuse me boys and girls. Miss Linda is just going to answer this call so we can get rid of the interruptions. Everyone keep working on their printing. You are all doing such a good job,” she said in her best kindergarten teacher voice.

She placed her hand over her mouth as she slid open her cell to answer the call. “What do you want?” she growled much louder than she intended. A few kids at a nearby table looked up with alarm but she smiled back at them. “I am very busy right now,” she said returning to her melodic teaching voice in an attempt to reassure the kids. It was not the voice she would have chosen if she hadn’t had an audience. The words she wanted to use were also off-limits in a classroom full of five year-olds.

“I’m sorry. I know… I just, I needed to talk to you, to explain.”

“There is nothing to explain. Your, ahem, partner explained it quite clearly when we spoke on Friday. There is no need for you to keep calling.”

“Look I didn’t know that my wife was going to call you. I am so sorry. That should never have happened. I was going to explain.”

“I don’t think any further explanations are necessary. In fact, I think the whole situation is quite clear,” she said choosing her words quite carefully. “I was surprised to find out that another venture existed so I have decided to invest elsewhere.”

“Why are you talking like this? Oh shit, are your kids there? Is the whole class listening to you? Damn it, I should have thought about this before I called you.”

“Yes, I agree. There are numerous issues that should have considered beforehand but it’s too late to change it now.”

“I’m going to leave her. I love you, I swear, I just need time.”

“That won’t be necessary. I have already made my decision. Thank you so much for following up,” she let the sarcasm drip from her voice. “I don’t think you need to call again.”

Linda snapped the phone closed and took a deep breath steadying herself against the tears that threatened to fall. “I am sorry boys and girls. I am turning my phone off right now.”

Samuel looked up from the table in the centre of the room. “My mommy hates it when people call on the phone to sell us things we don’t need. She says they always call at the wrong time and that they are a ‘pain a butt’.” The kids all giggled.

Linda looked over at the little blond-haired, boy with the thick glasses who had handily changed the subject and saved her from having to make more excuses to the young class.

Yep, she had picked the perfect helper today.

__________________________

I am happy to say that The Character Project is continuing in the new year. If you love to write you should consider joining us. There are weekly prompts to inspire you and you can participate as often as your life will allow.

What is the lesson

I am a New Year's resolution girl. I like to think of January 1 as a fresh start and it always seems like a good idea to focus on one or two areas where I can make improvements over the next 365 days. For many, New Year's resolutions don't last more than a week before they are forgotten (I work in a gym -- enough said).

In the past my resolution usually focused on my weight; I have entered more than one January hell-bent on losing five to ten pounds. I finally gave up on that train of thought because more often than not I ended up feeling worst about myself instead of better.

For 2011 I have resolved to learn. I love learning so on the surface it seems easy enough. Paul calls me a perpetual student and knows I am always happy to be knee-deep in books, papers and exams. But the resolution is not about that kind of learning, it is about the day-to-day lessons we all ignore everyday.

I truly believe that if we open our eyes we will see that life is presenting us with lessons all the time.

The people crossing our paths do so for a reason; we can learn from them. But it is not just the people we like that can help us to learn and grow -- what about the people in our lives that are more (ahem) 'challenging'? I read once that the people in our lives that we like the least are the ones that remind us of something in ourselves we do not like. Ouch...

My knee-jerk reaction is to dismiss the theory but when I stop to think about it there is a lot of truth there. Whether these people mirror a quality in me -- or have overcome a struggle that still holds me back -- their presence makes me uncomfortable. Recognizing this I have a choice to make: do I walk away or do I start to work on those areas in my life that are clearly hindering me?

There is a Sanskrit greeting Namaste which means (and I am paraphrasing) the Divine that is within me, recognizes the Divine that is within you. It is beautiful idea that transcends any creed or religion. While we may all have different interpretation of the Divine the core principal is the same. Every person has a 'spark' or a goodness in them. We may not see it immediately but it is something that we should recognize and respect.

It would be easier to lose five pounds. I have done it before but inevitably those five pounds will creep right back. The lessons, however, have the potential to make permanent changes in my life.

When did kids stop being kids?

It is Christmas holidays and I am having a blast with Paul and the girls.

Over the past few days we have been doing a Star Wars movie marathon and Paul has been introducing the kids to the wonders of Luke, Leia, Han Solo Darth Vader and Yoda (we are not Jar Jar Binks fans so we are trying to discourage their enthusiasm for bumbling Gungan). As they watched the movies we have been watching their faces and their enthusiasm for the story. It has been fabulous to revisit the saga again from their perspective.

As with all kids their age, Christmas is top of mind. They are thrilled to have everyone come to our house for turkey dinner this year. They are anxious to see us open the gifts they bought for us at the school's Christmas shop and they are excited to see what Santa will deliver for them.

As I write this, Paul has brought them to the mall to get their photo taken with Santa. Kathyrn is six this year and Gracie is ten and they looked so cute in their outfits. I realize with a tinge of sadness that this may be the last year Gracie will agree to pose with the big man. I am hoping that she will continue to humor me well into her teenage years.

While I recognize that my daughter is growing up far too quickly for my liking I am thrilled that she is still a kid at heart. Some may argue that she is a little young for ten but Paul and I made a conscious decision to let our girls be kids for as long as possible. We monitor their television and movie viewing carefully, we try not to watch the news if they are in the room and I review all of Gracie's books if they have not been recommended by someone I trust.

They are sheltered and perhaps that is why I was so shocked by a sign I saw at CHEO yesterday.

While we were waiting for Kathryn in the reception area of the MRI and CAT scan clinic I saw a yellow sheet posted on the wall. "All female patients over the age of eleven will be asked about the possibility of pregnancy prior to a CAT scan or MRI." I almost spit out my coffee when I spotted it. My daughter will be eleven in only eight months and the very idea that someone her age could be pregnant devastated me.

I tried to imagine what I would have done if Gracie would have been the one having the test done. I don't think that the waiting room at CHEO is any place for me to have 'the talk' with my daughter -- especially when the nurse could be calling her name at any moment. She knows about the egg and the sperm but we have not explained all the details about the mechanics. I didn't think it was necessary yet.

I want to say up-front that I am not criticizing the staff at CHEO: I am sure the doctors, nurses and technicians see heart-wrenching situations and that there are good reasons why this policy is in place. It makes me sad, however, to think that there are eleven-year-old girls living lives where pregnancy may be an issue.

Eleven.

Maybe I am naive. As the parent of a pre-teen (and pretty one at that) I know that boys and dating are going to an issue soon. As a mother I will not be able to be with my girls 24/7 but I pray the lessons Paul and I taught them will stick. I want them to make smart decisions. I hope they know that they can come to us if they need to talk or if they have a problem they don't feel ready to handle.

In the meantime, we will continue to let our girls be children. I am glad that they have that luxury. Reading that sign yesterday I was reminded that not all little girls do.

It seemed like a good idea at the time

Now usually when I say those eight words (I am referring to the title above) my friend L is somehow involved.

• "We could totally raise $2,000 each and walk 60km in a weekend!"
• "Don't worry, Julie and I can make hundreds of chocolate suckers for the Easter service."
• "Sure it will hurt initially to pierce the cartilage in our ears but I am sure it will heal in no time."
• "You'll love running in the winter. If you dress right you'll never even notice is it 20 below zero!"

This time I have no one else to blame. Signing up for NaNoWriMo was all my idea. For those of you who are not familiar with National Novel Writing Month, the challenge is to write a 50,000 word 'novel' in 30 days. For me the challenge is perfect. I am a master procrastinator and the 1,667 word quota each day provides me with incentive to sit down at my computer regularly. I actually like writing once I sit down but I lack the discipline to get started each day.

A few of my friends know that for the past four months I have obsessed with a story that has been floating around in my head. A few of the characters have been slowly introducing themselves to me and as the weeks go by I am seeing the framework of a larger tale coming together. I have typed out some of my notes about the characters, I have come up with a number of plot scenarios and I have even written a few scenes but the sheer scope of the project has been daunting. Frustrated and overwhelmed I realized that I needed to put that project on a shelf for a few weeks to see if I can get some clarity.

Enter NaNoWriMo. A few million people around the world would be starting from scratch on November 1. Keeping each other on track. Offering encouragement and suggestions on-line. I signed up in September and promptly forgot all about it.

Two weeks ago the e-mails started arriving. NaNoWriMo starts soon. Are you ready? I must admit I was tempted to drop out but the more I thought about it the more excited I got. There were four characters from a story I had written earlier this year that were hanging out in the back of my brain. Lisa, a pregnant paralegal; Jason, her lawyer partner and the father of her baby; Jon, her friend from university who was secretly in love with her; and Margaret, who got stuck in an elevator with her one fateful day. (click the links to read their initial stories)

A few friends had asked me whatever happened to them. Was this my opportunity to finally tell their full story?

Well, today is day 6 of NaNoWriMo and I am almost 8,500 words in! I am a little behind schedule (truth be told, I should be working on my novel and not on this blog post) but I am excited . Each time I sit down to write I am getting a little traction and a little more confidence.

I will keep you all posted and maybe by the end of the month I will have 50,000 words to share with all of the folks who asked me "whatever happened to Lisa?"

My beautiful Kathryn

A few months ago I wrote a blog post about my daughter Grace on her birthday. I got a number of great comments and a few friends asked if I would write a similar post about Kathryn. So, in honor of her sixth birthday here are some of my thoughts about Kaye.

Kathryn is my bonus baby

I never planned to have a second child. I had trouble getting pregnant with Grace then had a horrible pregnancy followed by thirty hours of labour. My first words to Paul after Grace was born were: "I am NEVER doing that again." For well over a year we never even discussed the idea of another baby. Gracie had Meghan so she wasn't really an only child. Quite frankly, I did not want to press my luck. I had the healthy baby I had been praying for.

After a few years the idea of baby number two started to come up more often. Like all couples with only one child living at home, we were constantly told that we had to have another. Kids need to share, Gracie should have someone to play with, etc. etc...

I was reluctant. The first time around I had tried a number of drugs with unknown side-effects because I desperately wanted a child. But with Gracie in the picture I was less willing to take chances with my health: I was someone's mom!

Paul and I discussed adoption and started to get information from agencies specializing in international adoption. The process seemed so daunting and the waiting lists were long. "Would you be willing to try one cycle of fertility meds?" Paul asked me. I thought about all that entailed: giving myself injections in the stomach, countless blood tests and ultrasounds, crazy hormones. I looked at my beautiful Gracie and then at my husband. "One.. Just one," I agreed.

After a few months on the waiting list the process began. On at least three occasions we were hit with crazy obstacles that threatened to stop the whole project in its tracks. In each case an unlikely solution would drop in our laps. After only one cycle, I was pregnant. At the time I believed that baby was meant to be a part of our family. Only after meeting Kathryn would I realize how that true that really was.

Kathryn Adelaide

Finding a name was not easy. Paul and I picked a boy's name immediately (Noah for Paul's grandfather). A girl's name was more difficult. Sarah, Maya and Renee were all in the running but we finally settled on Lorelai, a name I fell in love with early on.

As my pregnancy was classified high-risk we got an extra ultrasound and coming into month five we found out we were having another daughter. My initial reaction was to say: "hello Lorelai" to the shadow on the screen but something stopped me. As we left the hospital I turned to Paul and asked what we would name our daughter.

"I thought we were going to name her Lorelai."

"What do you want to name her?"

"I want to name her Kathryn." (It is a name shared by of one of his favorite aunts and one of his favorite cousins.) The smile on his face was worth losing the naming rights for.

"Kathryn it is then. Can I call her Katie?"

"No, her name is Kathryn."

"Kate?"

"Kathryn."

There's something about Kathryn

I can't quite explain it, but there is something about Kathryn. It may be in her smile, or a gleam in her eye, or a tone in her voice, but there is something about Kathryn that makes people love her. The kid has her own little fan club.

If you have ever met Kaye in person you know about 'Kathryn speak'. She has some trouble pronouncing her R's and her Th's so she had to repeat herself a lot when she was younger so people would understand. Frequently Gracie would step in to translate as she spoke 'Kathryn' most fluently and always seemed to know what her sister was saying. When Gracie was not around things got a bit more dicey.

K: Momma, I bwushed (brushed) by haiw (hair) and teeth, so I'm gonna put it on the cho-chot.

Me: Cho-chot?

K: Yes the Cho-Chot.

Me:(in my head) cho-chot?, cho-chot....? (out loud) Where's Grace?

K: Upstaiws (upstairs)

Me: (in my head) Cho-chot?.... Kathryn, say it one more time for Momma.

K: CHO CHOT

Me: Sweetie I am sorry, why don't you just show me what you are talking about.

K: (pointing at the chore chart I had mounted on the fridge the day before). CHO-CHOT

Me: Oh, the chore chart.

K: That's what I said!

On another day...

K: Nana (my mom is making supper and does not hear her)

K: Nana! (still in the other room not hearing Kaye calling)

K: Nana (my mom looks up) Youw (you're) annoying me.

Nana: Excuse me?

K: I called and you did not answer. Youw (you're) annoying me.

Gracie: (who luckily intervenes) She is saying IGNORING

K: That's what I said!

One of my favorites!

K: Momma, how come my name doesn't have an F in it? It should have an F.

Me: No sweetie your name is Kathryn.

K: But there is an F sound

Me: No there isn't, it's a TH sound

K: (Pointing at her ear and speaking very slowly) Momma listen when I say it. KAFFFFWYN

Me: No, it's Kathryn

K: (shakes her head with disgust and leaves)

No Filter

Kathryn has no tolerance for foolishness -- Paul says she gets that from me. She sees no reason to play games or pussy-foot around. Kathryn will cut to the heart of an issue quickly and ruthlessly.

One day after circling the grocery store looking for something or other, I began to get frustrated. "Momma," she asked. "Why do they call it the Soupa Sto (Super Store), if it's not Soupa?" I could not help but laugh.

Kathryn also likes to follow our neighbor around when he does his lawn work. She chatters while he works and asks questions as they come to her. Some days it is about the lawn or the garden hose. Other times I cringe to hear her ask things like: "Why are you wearing that sweatshirt again? You wore it yesterday" Or, "You have more grey hair in your beard than my daddy, why?" She does not mean to be rude, she just wants to know. Luckily, the neighbor has a good sense of humor and a soft-spot for Kathryn.

Kathryn goes to school

With her quick wit and low level of tact Paul and I were concerned when Kathryn started school. Educators always assure you that your child will be different in the classroom but we had our doubts.

In junior kindergarten we were told that Kaye was the last one in her class to print her name. If this would have been Gracie I would have been panicking but with child number two you tend take these things in stride. I asked Kaye about it and she told me matter-of-factly that her name was too long to print. She had decided that she would only put a "K" on her work.

Me: There are five kids in your class that have names starting with K.

K: But they all write their names Momma!

I turned my head quickly so she would not see me laugh. That night we worked on our printing. It turned out that she could indeed print her name -- she was choosing not to.

The following year the teacher was concerned that her name was not printed correctly. She would only print her name with a capital R while the curriculum dictated that only the first letter should be capitalized. Apparently in SK, 'KathRyn' was not acceptable even if one could read at a grade two level.

It was February so I used Kaye's Valentine cards as an opportunity to work on printing.

Me: OK sweetie, write your name as neatly as you can.

K: K-a-t-h-R-y-n

Me: No sweetie, you need to use a small r. Can you make a small r?

K: Yes. (she prints a small r on the scrap paper)

Me: OK. Let's try again with the next card.

K: K-a-t-h-R-y-n

Me: OK again with the big R. Why?

K: It's prettier.

Me: But your teacher says you need to use the little r. Let's try again on the next card.

K: K-a-t-h-R-y-n

Me: Kathryn!

K: But Momma I am better at making the big Rs

Me: If you wrote your name properly you would get more practice!

17 Valentine cards all signed KathRyn. I wrote a note to the teacher telling her to let Kaye write her name however she wanted. Perhaps at thirty she will be a famous artist signing all of her work with that capital R. Maybe one day it would be her trademark.

The next parent-teacher interview did not go much better. Printing was still an issue but I was no longer willing to discuss it --let's face it, one day we will all be using computers anyway. This time it was about circle time. Kaye was having problems raising her hand.

Me: Kathryn, your teacher says that you have really good ideas and participate a lot in circle time. That's great. Are you raising your hand?

K: No

Me: Why not?

K: I know the answer.

Me: Maybe some of the other kids know the answer too.

K: But I said it first!

Me: Because they are raising their hands!!

Paul actually left the room during that talk he was laughing so hard. It is hard to get around her logic.

Katie G

A few months ago Kathryn made an announcement at the dinner table.

K: When I go back to school I want people to call me Katie.

Paul: Your name is Kathryn (he never really got over that)

K: I want people to call me Katie.

Me: Why? Don't you like your name.

K: I want to be Katie. It is shorter to write and there are no R's in it.

Me: No R's?

K: (sighing) The are seven letters in my name and I can't even say fwee (three) of them. I want to be Katie.

Paul: Your name is Kathryn.

K: Don't worry daddy. You can call me Kathryn when we are at home.

Kathryn loves dogs

Well, maybe it is more accurate to say that Kathryn really wants to like dogs. In reality she is scared to death of them. After a few run-ins she is petrified of any dog that may jump up on her.

Me: Just say DOWN when a dog comes near you sweetie. They don't want to hurt you. Dogs are just friends with fur.

K: But that's wude (rude)

Me: Rude?

K: They're dogs. It is not their fault that they can't talk. They just want to say hi. What if I say 'down' and it hurts their feelings?

Kathryn's new plan: to run away screaming lest she offend a dog that may want to jump on her.

Kathryn does have one dog friend that is the exception to the rule. My friend Jess has a black lab named Skye that Kathryn loves. Skye is calm and she doesn't jump! Kathryn was so taken by Skye that when Jess and Skye came for a sleepover Kathryn took it upon herself to make her dog friend feel welcome. After a quick game of Doggy Spa (Kaye combed a very patient Skye's fur) Kaye got a blanket and a book and cuddled up with Skye on her doggie bed.

K: Skye I am going to wead (read) you 101 Dollmations. It is a book about dogs.

(Skye watches cautiously as Kaye moves over on the dog bed and opens the book)

K: Now these are dogs but they are spotted dogs. You are a black dog. You are the blackest dog I have ever seen.

Unfortunately Skye moved to Alberta so they don't see as much of each other but Kaye still asks about Skye and gets excited whenever Jess posts more pictures on facebook.

Kathryn Speaks for herself

It is hard to describe Kaye so I hope that my stories about my beautiful girl will speak for themselves. Paul and I have tonnes of Kathryn stories and many of our friends have their favorites -- Jess loves to tell people about the doggy spa. Kathryn's way of looking at the world makes people laugh. She is honest, direct and funny.

Kathryn loves life. She wakes up with a smile on her face and she talks, laughs and sings all day long. She is in perpetual motion until she puts her head on the pillow and then falls asleep within seconds resting up for the next day.

A few weeks ago Kathryn started school full-time. I was excited for her because she was ready for the challenge but it also made me a little sad. For the last six years (with the exception of six months when I went back to work) Kaye has been my constant companion. She has chattered with me as we ran to the grocery store, she sang songs and told me silly jokes. I couldn't imagine how quiet my day would be without her.

I love you Kathryn

As I said at the beginning of this post Kathryn was not always in the cards for us. She was the second child we did not dare to hope for. For several years after Gracie was born we thought our family was finished. And then Kathryn came along!

Kathryn completes our family. She reminds us that life is supposed to be fun. Just because you're busy it doesn't mean that you can't have a good time. Kathryn does not take herself too seriously and she reminds me that I shouldn't take myself too seriously either. I hope she will carry this joy with her for the rest of her life.

Kathryn: your Momma loves you so much. I can't imagine my life without you. Happy birthday baby. Thank you for all of the laughs, for the hugs and for the lessons you teach me every day.