Tag Archives: children

This Week in February

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This Week in February

Has anyone else been glued to the TV lately? It all started with the Super Bowl last weekend. And now it’s the Winter Olympics. It’s been exciting seeing so many new world records set. These athletes have incredible determination and drive. I can only imagine the grueling training and other sacrifices made in order to qualify and participate in this event.

Yes, there’s been the usual complaints about judges and accusations about cheating. Athletes have been disqualified over petty little things. Politics has reared it’s ugly head. But there’s been a lot more positive things going on.

It was interesting to see that Mexico sent a delegation this year. Both men and women had a presence in Alpine skiing as well as in cross-country skiing. Donovan Carrillo skated his heart out in the men’s single event. Sarah Schleper set a record as not only the oldest Alpine skier but she is also skiing alongside her son.

Years ago I never enjoyed watching the figure skaters. I always worried that they’d fall and screw up their routines. But now I find it quite relaxing compared with watching some of the other sports. Serious injuries involving broken bones have occurred in skiing and in the halfpipe. There have been many crashes in the speedskating races. But I still marvel at those competing in these events, especially the halfpipe and the big air. And I have always enjoyed watching the luge and bobsleds.

Aside from sports and my usual English teaching this week, seeing as the mindfulness series has ended I’m starting a new program with a church in Canada tonight. This one deals with bridging broken bonds. It deals with avoiding and healing estrangement with adult children. This is always a hot topic of conversation with friends and I’m curious to see how Rick Warren approaches this.

And now I’m going to be mindful. I’m putting away my computer and I’m going to turn on my TV to watch the Winter Olympics. By the way, I’m watching it in Spanish on a channel our of Guatemala.

Remember This One?

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Remember This One?

Who remembers their mom baking a birthday cake with a coin in it? My mom never did but I remember going to birthday parties where other moms did. As if a birthday cake in itself wasn’t exciting enough, now there was the added element of surprise. Who would find that lucky coin that symbolized good things in the year to come? Okay, so it was just a superstition, but it sure added to the fun at a birthday party.

Today, January 6th, is King’s Day here in Mexico. That is synonymous with Rosca de Reyes. And it is every bit as delicious as it looks in the photo. This amazing oval loaf of bread doesn’t contain coins. But it does have small figurines of the baby Jesus baked inside. If you are lucky enough to find one, then you bring the tamales and the atole to the celebration on February 2nd, Dia de la Candelaria. And adults are just as gleeful about this as children.

When I lived in Mazatlan, I took a cooking course where I learned to make a variety of traditional Mexican foods. And yes, Rosca was one of them. But like many other dishes I learned to cook or bake, it is far easier to buy this wonderful delicacy than to make it yourself. At this time of year bakeries are filled with Rosca. And speaking of filled, there are lots of variations. Fillings of cajeta, Nutella, cream cheese, almond paste, fruits and nuts are quite popular.

Buenelas move over. Rosca is here.

Happy Birthday Kyle!

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Happy Birthday Kyle!

Today is Sunday, November 23, 2025. But I’m thinking back to this date a few years ago, actually a few decades ago. Sunday November 23, 1980. Grey Cup Day in Canada. But for me it was Labor Day.

That’s right. Forty-five years ago today I spent the day in a labor and delivery room. The hospital where I delivered my first baby had not yet embraced the concept of birthing rooms. I recall a starkly furnished and sterile room with bright lights. The only calming thing about it was that I had an amazing doctor who stayed with me the entire time, encouraging me as the nurses’ shifts constantly changed. My husband was glued to the TV in the lounge watching the football game although periodically he came to check on me. Once the game ended he had more of a presence in the labor and delivery room but in all honesty wasn’t the greatest labor coach. He did much better when my daughter was born.

My son finally decided to enter the world on Monday November 24th. My due date was November 26th and I was grateful that he came early, even if only by two days. If you’ve ever been pregnant, you know how anxious you are to have that baby come out when you’ve gone full term. Kyle was also born on the day of my parents’ wedding anniversary, although my dad had passed away years before. Now we had something new to celebrate on that date.

Hard to believe you’re turning 45 tomorrow. It seems like just yesterday you were born.

Happy Birthday Kyle!

Happy Anniversary To My Gold Medalist!

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Happy Anniversary To My Gold Medalist!

Ten years ago I was in the Dominican Republic with my daughter when she got married. She is celebrating her 10th anniversary today in Panama. She gets around.

I was glued to my computer screen the other night watching her compete in The North American Powerlifting Federation Regional Bench Press Championships in Panama City. It was exciting to watch online but I really wish I could have been there in person. Breaking three records, she now returns to Canada with a gold medal. It was amazing to see her up there on the podium accepting her award.

Felicidades Kimmy! I love you and I am so incredibly proud of you!

Thicker Than Smoke

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Thicker Than Smoke

It rained this morning. It’s a cloudy day. Smoke has rolled in from the wildfires surrounding East Wenatchee. But the air is charged with something far more potent. And it has felt that way since I arrived in May. It’s very different than the usual, and everyone is commenting on it.

The atmosphere here is tense and emotionally charged. And not in a good way. Uncertainty. Unsureness. Doubt. Ambiguity. Discontent. Vagueness. Anxiety. Fear. These are just some of the words people are using to describe it.

School has been in session for only a couple of weeks. There have already been lockdowns due to suspicious persons roaming nearby. Other states have already reported shootings. When I was in school it was accepted that the teacher was always right. By the time my kids were in school it had changed. The parents were always right, not the teachers. Today it seems like it has shifted again. The kids feel entitled and they are the ones who are always right. Unfortunately that only leads to more violence.

And then there was the assassination of Charlie Kirk this past week. Freedom of Speech is protected by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Just because you may not agree with the words of a speaker does not give you the right to kill him. This shouldn’t be a matter of Republican versus Democrat. This is man’s inhumanity to man we’re talking about . And Kirk’s murder was a senseless and horrible tragedy.

This morning at church the sermon was about the importance of prayer and forgiveness. If there were more of that our world wouldn’t be in such a mess right now. That’s right. The entire world. It doesn’t matter what country you live in.

And while we’re on the topic of church, I never cease to be amazed by the men who walk into church with a Bible in one hand and a gun in a holster on their hip. Or the women who carry guns in their purses. The church I attend now is a smaller one and I haven’t noticed it here, but when I went to some of the more mega-sized churches it was definitely noticeable. Of course I’ve also had the experience of being locked inside a Christian church in Mexico once the service began. All in the name of security. And scary.

That’s it for doom and gloom. I pray that this coming week is a peaceful one for everyone.

More Memories

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More Memories

August 23, 2009. International Peace Gardens. Murals in Boissevain. Morden Corn and Apple Festival. I’m exhausted just thinking that I did all that in one day. Solo too. But people who know me are well aware that if I want to travel somewhere, I don’t always wait to find someone who wants to go with me. I just go.

I had always wanted to visit the International Peace Gardens. When I was a child, some of my friends went to a music camp there in the summer. I envied them. I actually auditioned, was accepted but never did go. My parents were not in favor of it. Growing up in the shadow of an older sibling, their expectations were that I would do what he had done. And attending this camp was never anything he had done. I think that maybe this contributed to my urge to be a non-conformist and somewhat of a rebel. At any rate, it has definitely influenced my determination to explore and seek adventure in life.

Here it is, decades later, and I am able to spend a few hours at the Peace Gardens. Aside from the beautiful flower gardens, I found tranquility in The Peace Chapel. There was a monument to 9/11. The Peace Tower and The Bell Tower were rather formidable. I hope that someday I will have an opportunity to revisit this area.

I drove through Boissevain admiring all the murals I’d heard about. And then it was time to lighten the mood at the Corn and Apple Festival, an event I’d attended on previous visits to Morden.

Since 2010, most of my August 23rds have been spent in Mexico or in Washington. But there is one August 23rd that stands out in my memory and it happened years before 2009, years before I had Facebook to remind me of memories. It was a celebration in Winnipeg that actually filled the entire weekend. It involved one of my kids and sadly many people who are no longer with us today. I do have photos that are backed up on an external hard drive. Think I might just go and check them out.

Enjoy your weekend!

I Will Always Call Her Kimmy

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I Will Always Call Her Kimmy

When my daughter was born, I was surprised, no let’s call it shocked. You see, I’d had the same difficult pregnancy, had carried the same way and was positive that it was going to be another boy. I recall a nurse asking me what name I had chosen, and I recall blurting out Kevin Matthew. She reassured me that I had just given birth to a girl and that I needed to think of another name.

So I did. I called my daughter Kelly Melinda, at least for the first twenty-four hours. But then I caved. Family all chided me and said I couldn’t have a Kyle, Kelly and Kelsey. They all sounded too alike. Kyle was my son and Kelsey was my dog.

After a somewhat tense discussion, my ex and I decided on Kimberly instead of Kelly. Mara, her middle name, was my ex’s idea. He didn’t like Melinda. So now I had a Kimmy instead of a Kelly.

And it was all good until she announced that she wanted to be called Kim, not Kimmy. Okay, she’s in her forties now and she made this decision when she was only six or seven, but I still call her Kimmy. And when Kyle and I talk about her, it’s always Kimmy.

The other day I was doing a video call with my granddaughter Madeline. She pouted annoyedly and said to her mom, “Did you hear what Grandma just called you?” Out came the guns; once again my daughter criticizing me for calling her Kimmy. Apparently I’m the worst mom in the world because I still call her Kimmy.

I don’t care. Judge me all you want. It was hard enough giving up Kelly. But don’t ask me to give up another name. I will always call her Kimmy.

You’re Never There

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You’re Never There

I disagree. I can’t say I’m never there, but I definitely can say that I’m seldom there. And just where is there? Why, it’s Facebook of course!

Just why am I seldom there? Because life is to be lived. That means up front and personal. That means interacting with other people. It doesn’t mean staring at a screen on my phone or on my laptop all day. That isn’t living.

Basically, I share my WordPress blog on Facebook. I belong to three writers groups on Facebook which I don’t always check out as often as I would like to. I’ve learned a lot about writing and publishing from these groups. As I’ve said many times before, send me a private message if you want me to be aware of something important going on in your life. With hundreds of friends on Facebook, I don’t have time to waste scrolling and sifting through far too many shared posts every day to find the ones that may truly be worth reading.

Occasionally I read posts on Facebook from a group called If You Grew Up In Winnipeg. There are two types of people who post here…those who still live there and haven’t experienced life outside of Winnipeg and those that have escaped Winnipeg when they have discovered the adventures that can be found elsewhere. However I must admit that I do find some of the photos quite interesting.

I had a stimulating conversation with a friend in Winnipeg last night. We’re both divorced, have adult children and grandchildren. We both concluded that our lives have not turned out the way we envisioned them years ago. But we do find our lives challenging as well as fulfilling.

And I wholeheartedly continue to embrace this philosophy…………………. First Coffee, Now What?

And you?

Beam Me Back

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Beam Me Back

My childhood was in the fifties and my teenage years in the sixties. I never thought about it back then but when I look back at it today……….”Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end,” sang Mary Hopkin. But those days did end. I look around me and can’t believe what I see today.

We can’t blame everything on the availability of technology, although many would prefer to do so. Kids today aren’t nearly as carefree as we were back then. Fire drills have been replaced by other drills in the classroom; drills that were unimaginable when I was young.

My own kids came along in the eighties. At a very young age they were playing games like “Don’t talk to Strangers,” not Cowboys and Indians. They learned to decode alarm systems instead of coming home to unlocked doors after school. The internet was at their fingertips to read about war and violence. As a child I wasn’t even allowed to watch the 11 o’clock news as my parents thought it might give me nightmares.

Today it’s worse. Here in the Wenatchee Valley crime rates are higher than the national average. We are all still reeling from the tragic death of three sisters at the hands of their murderous father. And he is still at large. This is something that should be reserved for a Lifetime movie. It shouldn’t be happening in real life in our own backyard.

As a child, we played outside with friends until the streetlights came on. Neighbors looked out for each other and someone was always checking up on the kids, whoever’s house they happened to be playing at. The front porch was a popular place to sit. Today people back out of their garages and don’t even know their neighbors. Backyard decks allow for even more privacy; or is it seclusion?

Hitchhike? Accept a ride from a stranger while waiting at a bus stop? Unheard of today. I wouldn’t even want my child to use public transit so those options are definitely eliminated. The term “helicopter parent” would absolutely apply to me. And that isn’t good parenting either. Kids have to learn to make choices, preferably good ones. And they don’t have the opportunity to do that if they’re overprotected.

And then there’s the opposite. There are the kids who have too much freedom, the kids whose parents are too wrapped up in themselves to notice the warning signs that their kids are struggling and getting into trouble. And when they finally do notice a problem, the blame is more often than not put on the teacher or the coach instead of the parent.

Dick, Jane and Sally. Spot and Puff. Where have you gone?

Hug Your Kids Tight

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Hug Your Kids Tight

Last week a horrendous event occurred here in the Wenatchee Valley. It wasn’t an accident. It was cold-blooded murder. While I don’t personally know the family involved, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by this senseless tragedy. Actually a myriad of feelings fill my head. Frustration that an amber alert hadn’t been called immediately when a distraught mother reported that her ex-husband hadn’t returned her three daughters after a custodial visit. Anger that the father had done the unimaginable. He had murdered his three daughters. Compassion for the mother deprived of the opportunity to watch her children grow up, sharing in their joys and sorrows. And fear because this dangerous man is still at large.

While today more than ever people are encouraged to seek professional help when mental health issues arise, they are often reluctant to do so. Sadly sometimes the resources are not always readily available. There is also the danger of a misdiagnosis and inappropriate treatment. The system definitely has its flaws.

Wild speculations about the circumstances that led to this horrific event fill Facebook, fueled by the fact that the father was a veteran who had served in the military. This isn’t a time for Facebook gossip. This isn’t an internet soap opera. This is real life involving real people.

Instead, this is a time for prayer; for the mother, the three little angels now in heaven, and even the father.