This is the time of year when the pink snow starts to fall.

The cherry trees are breathtakingly beautiful.

For me it has something to do with the contrast of the pale pink petals and the blackness of the bark.

For the kids, it’s all about the “pink snow.”

Feed me some good food and all is forgiven.

I went to my very first ever dance competition today to watch my daughter tap dance.

One of the competitors was very scantily clad and I couldn’t help but wonder what is in the mind of a mom who lets her 9-year-old dress like a skank?

Ha ha ha. One must laugh at oneself often. The kids especially like to hear about my foibles since I am usually Chief Nagger around here.

Anyway, I came home this afternoon after dropping kids off at school, going for a walk and coffee with a friend, doing some shopping, etc., etc. I went to take my running shoes off and that’s when I noticed I was wearing two different shoes. Both runners but not the same colour or brand.

I definitely woulda flunked that princess and the pea test.

I suck at being needy. I really do. I much prefer to be competent, confident, and independent, without having to be vulnerable or ever ask for help.

My dietitian once asked me “if you were given a gift, and inside it was your diabetes, what would you say your diabetes has given you?”

My diabetes has definitely taught me how to ask for help, and how to accept help when it is offered.

I’m usually much more comfortable being strong, independent and resentful than I am comfortable with receiving love and nurturing.

So I try to remind myself how good it makes me feel to help others. How could I deny someone that feeling when they want to help me?

I don’t know about you, but I sometimes get overwhelmed by the little things. It’s like there’s a magic number of minutiae I can deal with and any more than that sends me into overload.

Right now my to-do list includes: figuring out what happened to the e-tickets I was supposed to receive for an upcoming Diabetes Expo; following up with my doctor (who is going on maternity leave and has no replacement!) regarding a specialist appointment she is supposed to make me; signing up for a Diabetes Group followup at my local hospital; registering my kids for their summer activities - camp, art, swimming and sewing (for my fashion-designer-wannabe daughter); sending an excuse note to school for my daughter who was sick before spring break; etc., etc.

I know it’s just the reality of everyday living, but really, it gets to be too much sometimes.

So, how will I deal with it all? I think my usual mistake is that I look at my to-do list as something that needs to be accomplished all at once. I am very completion-oriented and like to go “check - there that’s done.”

I have come to realize that life is not like that. So instead, I try to slowly whittle away at my chores and take pleasure in each one I check off my list. I squeeze them in here and there in places where I think I don’t have enough time. Often, 5 to 10 minutes is all I need and the feeling of satisfaction is so worth it when I’m done.

Mommy, how do we rewind the DVD?

A day of transition, or, as its more affectionately known, the “descent into hell.” Yes, it’s the first day of spring break and the umpteenth day of rebellious tantrum-ing by my youngest (do I have to admit she’s mine?).

At least when school’s in session, I get that glorious morning to mid-afternoon stretch of time to remind me of my human-ness, beyond the confines of my family. The children go off to school and I gleefully skip off the schoolyard, looking ahead to the potential of the day. No whining, yelling, arguing, needling, teasing, poking, or “stop copying me!” for hours at a stretch.

I can think, and better yet I can hear myself think.

Lots of new parents lament that we (those of us who already have kids) never told them what hard work it is to have a family. But the truth is, it’s indescribable. How can you explain the unexplainable? How can you convey something so deeply ingrained into every fiber of your being? How can you express something that envelopes you totally - body, mind and soul - so completely?

So I guess I just have to “suck it up” - there’s lots more Mondays where this one came from.

I wonder about myself sometimes. Today, the kids were upstairs watching TV while I was downstairs working. I had to go to the bathroom, so went to do my thing but purposely left the bathroom door open. My logic here was that if the kids needed me in an emergency I would be readily available to them.

But I got to thinking, okay, suppose the unthinkable happens and an intruder burst into our home. Would I then leap from the toilet to rescue my children? The sight and smell of me, at that point, would surely be enough to scare anyone away!

I don’t do mornings and they don’t do me. I think this is a trait I have passed along to my daughter (more commonly known as the cave dweller). Take this morning for instance - the usual morning routine - my husband (bless his soul he IS a morning person) dresses my daughter while she is still asleep, carries her downstairs and puts her in the front room (which is dark - cave dwellers don’t appreciate light at this time of day!). If he is lucky, he can make it downstairs with her on his back with only a minimum amount of verbal abuse being hurled at him (we tell our friends she has Tourette’s). She sleeps there until it’s time to leave for school. I think she gains consciousness in the car on the way to school, during which time she must eat her breakfast, brush her hair, and argue with her sister (the latter being the most important).

By the time we walk into her classroom, the cave dweller has been replaced by a sweet, sunny, irrepressibly charming young girl … until tomorrow morning …