Tomorrow tristan turns 11 years old. Time has this annoying habit of flying by. My oldest daughter is a pride and joy.

I have spoken many times about how much i adored my time with her when she was a newborn. Truth be told i have enjoyed every single moment of her life. She has always been a pleasure to be around.

This year she has really grown and matured this year. Her sense of humour has continued to be this aura around her that draws people to her. She is always smiling and laughing when i see her with her friends. On two occasions this year she has gotten up in front of a large audience and performed magic tricks to the delight of everyone around her.

She has also become much more caring towards her siblings. Helping them when they need it and giving them a quiet hug or pat when they are feeling sad. She has even babysat for short periods of time.

This spring she has gone to sleep-away camp twice. Her first time doing anything like that. She leaped in with both feet and had a wonderful time. Joining the 4H sewing club has brought out her inner geekiness and she spends hours in her room sewing.

She has handled the separation of her father and i very well. In many ways it has been hardest on her as she has the maturity and intuition to really understand what is going on. She also had a stay-at-home mom for the longest and has helped in numerous way while we all adjust to our new lifestyle. She even makes my coffee in the morning when she knows i had an extra late night at work.

A couple weeks ago she had her first sex education class at school. I couldn't believe how mature she was about the whole thing, but then so happily childlike when i reassured her that puberty was probably still several years away for her. We are both not ready for that.

Oldest children, like middles and youngests, hold a very special place in the family. I need to remember not to expect too much of her as she forges all the new milestones for her siblings. I just adore her. I am so happy she is my daughter. She fills me with pride every single day.

Our day by Tristan:

7:30 - wake up
7:45 - go on computer
8:30 - have Sugar Crisp for breakfast
9:00 - watch TV
10:00 - play Yu-gi-oh with Toby
10:30 - bounce on trampoline
11:00 - have quick shower
11:30 - bounce on trampoline
12:00 - lunch
12:30 - quick bounce
12:45 - get bathing suit and stuff
1:00 - go to lake

Our conversation today:

"Do you understand what happened to me? Why i was in the hospital?"

"You are depressed."

"What does that mean?"

"That you are sad about nothing in particular."

"You know it's not your fault?"

"You know it's not your fault?"

"Yes, i do. It's okay to be angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you. I'm sad for you."

"Don't be sad for me. I love you. It won't happen again."

"I know. I'll love you better."

"Me too."

Gosh. I'm sorry i didn't have the forethought in september 1996 to know that june birthdays are really hard on moms. I'm sorry that june is the very busiest month of the year and i really have had trouble being there for you.

But, my tristan, i love you like no other. You have taught me so many things. How to be a mom.

I'm sorry that every mistake i have made, i make with you.

I'm sorry that you are so darn perfect that i often forget you in the throws of your challenging siblings.

I'm sorry i spent the eve of your tenth birthday in emergency with your brother and you woke up to grumpiness and worry instead of kisses and sunshine.

I'm sorry that you have to be the oldest, faced with responsibility that you are not ready for.

But, oh my god, how i love you. You have a secret that will always be ours. That the most perfect moments in my life, the happiest and most fulfilling, were those first two years i spent alone with you. I have a bond with you that can never be broken. You were my perfect baby. The love of my lifetime.

Because of you and those perfect days i had my other perfect children. If it hadn't of been for you and the intense love we shared, there would be no toby, eliza and parker.

I am thankful for the way you understand me. That you know when i've had enough. That you can help out. Make your lunch. That you can't say "i love you," no matter how hard i try to make you.

I am excited to watch you step away from me. Make friendships that will last a lifetime.

I love you and i know that you know that i do my best.

xxoo

I am busy fighting the flu bug. But thought of a story.

A couple of weeks ago i held a family meeting. I decided it was time to be honest with the kids.

I told them that the medicine i had been taking was to help to make me feel better. That i had been feeling a little overwhelmed and unhappy. That i needed all of their help. That they needed to pull up their socks. Put laundry in the hampers, get in the car on time in the morning, clear their dishes at dinner, feed the dogs.

Nothing too major, just a few small things that can make a huge difference to the overall turmoil in this small house filled with six humans and four animals.

Tristan took it to heart and has blown me away by her kind spirit in the past couple of weeks. She jumps out of bed in the morning, organizes cereal for all the kids, gets parker dressed and then runs down the street to feed the cats she's babysitting. All without me ever saying a word. Every single day.

I can't tell you how proud i am of her. How she took to heart my asking for help and how she, truly, is trying to help.

She is the best christmas present ever.

As toby got in the car to go to school this morning he looked down at his feet, in sandals! but, that's another story, and shouted:

"Oh my god! That is evil!!!!"

"What?" I asked him looking down at his feet.

His toenails had been painted blue.

"You painted your toenails?"

"NO!!!"

I looked over at tristan and she is covering her face to hide how hard she is laughing. She painted his toenails while he was sleeping, knowing he insists on wearing sandals.

We gleefully walked into school telling everyody to look at toby's feet.

As some of you may remember last year for halloween tristan dressed up as a port-a-potty, or johnny on the spot to you americans.

She is a quirky thing.

She's just like me, never one to follow the crowd, bucking the trends. She has never had a single toy that she enjoyed. She'd rather be reading a book or hanging out with any available adults.

This year she is doing band for the first time. All the girls picked out the flute or clarinet. Her? The trombone. The honking daily practice that has ensued has tested every inch of patience i have for large ducks being murdered in my house.

She is definitely my daughter. When i started band i picked the most obscure instrument i could think of, the bassoon.

This year for halloween she is being santa's evil twin. When i was nine i dressed up as elton john's sunglasses.

It was a day and what a day it was.

Last night going through my old photos i was struck by that old cliche of how time just sneaks by you. The days are so long, but the years so fast. Three kids in school. How the hell did this happen to me?

Eliza was fine, great. Excited and ready. Full of anticipation. When i asked her about the best part she said;

"I'm excited to learn new things."

Really. It was a perfect day.

We spent the afternoon at the lake enjoying the last few hot, hot days before fall comes. Playing with friends. Balancing on logs. Building (and wrecking) sandcastles.

Dinner of tacos, everybody's favourite, and toasts of high points of the day, and the best parts of summer, and the most exciting thing about school starting.

Do you get this email, like 75 times a day? I do.

I'm watching "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" as we speak. I remember it being a little too old for me, which made it way, way more tantalizing.

But now? Now, i have an 18 year old babysitter, and her boyfriend and her? I know that they are, you know, doing it. Although that is perfectly okay. She's 18. She's graduated from highschool, she's responsible and, in general, a really great girl. I trust her with my kids. That's saying something. But still.

What freaks me out? I have a nine year old daughter and the days go slow, but the years fly by. I'm not ready. I'm not ready. Tristan will have her first sex ed class next year. Next year!

How? How do you deal with that?

Tristan asked me today why all her friends parents are "40-something and you and dad are so young?" Although i was flattered i had to remind her that when parker is 9 i will be in my 40's (gulp) and while "daddy and i had our kids young" it was not necessarily the best thing to do because i gave up a career to be at home and have babies. And! "having babies and being a mom is a good thing, but also doing what you want is important too."

It's all so complicated. I want them to respect what i am doing. Believe that it is important. But, at the same time, i want something more for them. I also want them to experience the love that i have. The sheer joy of motherhood.

How do you teach all that?

A wonderful time was had by all. We swam, we ate candy,

we did handstands and cartwheels and played truth or dare.

The things that struck me over and over this weekend was what an amazing time it was, when i was nine. How lucky i feel to witness it again through my wonderful daughter and her super cute friends. They are old enough to be (somewhat) independent, yet still young enough that they are free and comfortable in their bodies and their friendships. All the peer group clique stuff hasn't happened yet, they haven't gone through puberty - they are just happy to be together and have fun.

I had a wonderful time and i'm sad we won't be doing it all the time.

Today was (it is 12:20 am so i'm a little late...) tristan's 9th birthday. I took some lovely photos, but haven't had time to upload yet as i just walked in the door from another long, so long, meeting.

Tristan is the most wonderful 9 year old girl on the planet. She's smart, clever, funny and talented in every way. She has an uncanny ability to be able to do everything she tries. She's fantastic on the piano, is recording songs on the computer with vocals and all the instruments, she does excellent in school, throws a mean softball and is a good friend and wonderful daughter.

The thing about kids is that as they get older they become more and more fun, more and more like a real person. A person you'd like to hang out with. Funny that.

I adore her so much. She is my oldest, my first. The one i have agonized over every new decision, change, milestone reached and not quite reached. She is blazing the trail to make life a little easier, or at least less stressful, for her siblings.

Her grandma gave her scrabble for her birthday. I had a game with her on her floor tonight, making myself an hour late for my meeting. She almost beat me and was most interested in the logic behind the game. All the ways to maximize letters and points. It was the best night we have had together in a long time.

On friday i am taking her and her three closest friends for a night in a fancy hotel in victoria. I have promised lots of swimming, truth or dare and mini boxes of sugar cereal for breakfast. I can hardly wait.

Shane is away. He's away and i'm really enjoying it. We had and easy dinner, a frolic in the woods and the requisite giant slumber party in my room.

As i was laying there waiting for parker to go to sleep i was struck by the little moments. Tristan was reading her archie comic busting a gut. That girl has the strangest sense of humour. I frequently hear her cracking up in her bedroom to books. In a way i think it's her letting us know that she's up there awake. A little jubilant "hi!" from the eight year old girl.

Toby and parker were both lost in their own little dream worlds. Parker was singing something along the lines of:

twinkle twinkle little truck
abcdefg
all us travellers in the night
itsy bitsy dumptruck
now i know my abc's
thank you for your tiny light.

Toby was squeeking away in a high pitched whisper yell about "cougars in the box...(something, something)" followed by a raucous "in the hole little mouse...(something, something.)"

Eliza was asleep. She was suffering from post-birthday stress all day. Twirling her new gold chain with a heart pendant non-chalantly in front of everyone. Hoping for it to be noticed. She fell asleep before she could finish "Toby and parker are keeping me....(up)"

How wonderful. How lucky i feel during those moments and not just because i know that they are almost asleep.

Shane and i have both been overwhelmingly busy with our own things. We are getting along fine, really well actually. We are just not connecting in that way, the way that husbands and wives sometimes do. Some of them even get to do it in bed i hear. For us long term family bedders the pizzazz of the bathroom counter or rug burn inducing playroom floor has long lost it's sparkle and a good old bed in the missionary position sounds almost kinky.

*ahem*

What i meant to say was that we have no time together. Yet we sit side by side on the sofa at night laptops in, well, our laps and television on. Frankly it's boring and i welcome this little change to my routine. Except that all my favourite shows (sopranos, big love and huff) are not on this week because of memorial day. Stupid memorial day.

Tristan and toby just left for two nights at their grandma and grandpa's house. They always look forward to it. It's nice for us too because parker and eliza are that much younger and less demanding.

This time though i didn't want them to go. We've had such a nice spring break of doing not much of anything, but days packed full of fun little adventures. We've just been enjoying being all together. Eliza really misses them when they are at school. Parker is still a little bit too young for her to really play with. This is the biggest problem with her not going to preschool - she gets bored.

Anyway. After they left i was thinking how spring break is just about over and all the fun things we never did. It's always this way. After they go to bed, or in this case away, i always make plans and think to myself "tomorrow i will do better. i'll let the house be messy and the laundry pile up. it will be fine!"

But then the day comes and my time is so consumed with the work part of running a house full of six people. How i wish we could afford cleaners. And come to think of it a chef and someone to do the laundry. Oh! And the gardening. But we can't. And you know when i let things pile up? It stresses me out. I get all agitated and grumpy thinking about the work i will just have to do at some later point. So the day is broken up by bits of housework and bits of fun.

It's the best i can do. But i always wish for more time. More time with them and more time without them. Something like a 36 hour day.

Tristan, my eight year old daughter, wrote this poem for me in boynton style.

Mom

You see her teeth when she's mad
and her eyebrows are waxed
she smiles a lot
and gives us all she's got.

Should i laugh or cry?