Mom's blog

a hamster journeys to the afterlife twice

When their time comes, every pet hamster will be given a solemn farewell with all family members in attendance, but some get more than their fair share.
Our dwarf hamster, Milk Toast (don’t ask) was a strong contender for the Guinness Book of World Records for longevity. She defied the odds – including two narrow escapes from the jaws of our ginger cat – to survive for four long years. Well, the years felt long to me, anyway, because despite the heartfelt promises and pledges from Erin and Conor who were desperate for the pet, I was the only sucker who ended up cleaning said hamster’s cage each week.

counting the precious minutes

Time takes flight with every step of independence gained
Time is a funny thing when you are a parent. At first, it is all about counting the months and recording the milestones of your baby’s development. First tooth, first steps, first words. You eagerly look out for the next phase of their growth. Once they start school, you find yourself wishing you could slow things down as they start to show signs of independence.

Let go, and enjoy the ride...

Urged on by her children, a leap was taken and fun was had by all...
My daughter Erin announced recently that she has no interest in being an adult. I can’t say I blame her – there are days when deciding what to cook for supper and the myriad other responsibilities of being a grown-up are hugely overrated.

Must love cats

Oh, to be young and in love takes on a whole new meaning.
While driving home from school recently, I heard my son announce, quite matter-of-factly: “Mila is my girlfriend and when we get married we are having cats.” Until then, I had no idea that Conor, now almost six years old, knew anything about marriage, never mind the fact that he seemed to have already proposed and was quite keen on raising a pet with this girl.

The joys of camping ignited

Much to her surprise, ANÉL LEWIS discovers that camping, despite the lack of luxury, is actually fun
Something magical happens when you let a child spend a couple of nights in a sleeping bag and a tent. Throw in some open space, a mountain waterfall or two and a few unfamiliar but friendly faces, and you have created their idea of Utopia. We discovered this recently when we took Erin and Conor on their first camping trip.

The show must go on

Children’s concerts tend to provide an equal dose of anxiety and amusement – for both the child and the parent
The best thing about children’s concerts is that you actually get two shows for the price of one. Every performance is in fact a double billing, and there’s almost always a surprise element thrown in. Last year, I received a note from the school informing me that Conor was going to be a king in the end-of-year concert and he needed green tights.

Mom’s taxi

Despite the hazards of the school run, Anel Lewis is happy to play chauffeur to her two children.
There are so many joys to being a parent, but driving children to their respective schools in morning peak hour traffic is definitely not one of them. While all those parenting books I read extolled advice on the importance of tummy time and singing to my unborn baby, they did nothing to warn me about the perils of navigating school traffic with two pint-sized passengers screaming blue murder.

Finding the balance

It took trying to teach her children how to cycle for Anel Lewis to realise there are some things that dads may just be better at.
Whoever coined the expression “it’s like riding a bike” has clearly never tried to teach two children how to balance without training wheels. Conor, age 5, was easier to teach than Erin. Barring the small mishap when he rode head first into a drinking fountain, he found his pedals quite easily. I think Craig only had to do two laps around the park before Conor was riding like Evel Knievel through groups of runners and ladies walking their Maltese poodles.

He says, she says

Anél Lewis' children have entered the social world of playdates, but they clearly have different ideas about what this entails.
Erin and Conor are pretty tight, as siblings go. They quibble about the usual things - who’s taking up more space on the couch, who had the biggest serving of ice cream for dessert and who weighs more (I know - the innocence of youth). But generally they are quite happy to spend time together. However, lately they have been locking horns over that Holy Grail of social engagements - the playdate.

“You’re fired!”

There are times Anel Lewis wants to resign from parenthood, and at times the children “eliminate her position”, but it only takes a kiss and hug to rectify the situation.
“Mom, you’re fired!” The words rang out across the field during a firefighters’ display, being watched by hundreds of people. Unfortunately, Conor had picked the perfect moment - just as the firefighters were running back to the truck to refill their water packs - to fire me from my parenting duties with immediate effect. This meant that the shout that should have been drowned out by the sound of clanging sirens or the whoosh of water cannons, was instead amplified.
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