We are both exhausted, tearful and no further then when we started.

“Please, let me just get that one, little knot out?” I beg, holding the hairbrush delicately up.

You always hurt me. Nooooooo!” my four-year old daughter, tosses her tangled locks and runs from the room, talking the hairbrush with her.

It’s true, in my desire to get the knots out I do hurt her and yet I persist. I used to laugh when my friends would tell me of the epic battles to brush their daughters’ hair. How bad can it be? I wondered.

BAD.

My 10-year old son is a terrible swimmer. It’s not from a lack of swimming lessons or exposure, he just can’t get it all his body parts moving in the right direction to propel him properly in the water.

That, and he hates putting his face under. But swimming is a part of life and he encounters many situations where he is at a pool or a lake so he fakes it. He hangs out on the side, he grabs a floatie, he directs the action instead of being part of it. No one realizes that he isn’t a good swimmer.

And because he still horses around in the water, I have a lot of fear that he is at risk of drowning.

An email when through the mommy network this week that only heightened my anxieties. It described how drowning doesn’t really look like how we think of drowning. What drowning really looks like is something that everyone who is near the water should know.

A mother chased me down the hall of school, cornering me under the stairs. “I just wanted to talk to you about Aaron’s teacher,” she said conspiratorially. “You know, he can be kind of inappropriate with the students,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I answered, having no idea where she was going with this.

“Well, you know how he talks about his home life. It can be confusing for the boys in the class.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I know that Aaron is a sensitive kid. And you know how boys love their friends and so it can be confusing for them.”

Oh!” Light bulb went off. She was referring to the fact that my son’s (now former)teacher is gay, out and openly talks about his partner. I didn’t know what to say and mumbled :“Sofia, in our home we talk about how families are different and I don’t think Aaron will find it confusing. You know being gay isn’t contagious.”

Wow. Miley Cyrus has been through some big changes recently. A new home, a new boyfriend,  a new tattoo, and a new slutty look. I guess when you grow up under the media spotlight, 18 is a lot more like 23. Too bad that the girls who have been watching her mature on the tween hit Hannah Montana missed those 5 years because they are still aging along the normal growth rate of young girls.

So you can understand why they might be a bit confused about the recent changes. They (and their parents) know Miley Cyrus as a flouncy skirt, kooky outfit, wig-wearing, wise-cracking teen with a second identity as Hannah Montana. But she seems to be want to be known as a leotard-wearing, arousal-inducing young, umm, woman.

I spent a good 35 minutes explaining to my sons my family tree all in the hopes of making the idea of second-cousins real to them. It didn’t work. How do you explain why you would travel hours out of your way to meet up with people who are only vaguely related to you and do not have any knowledge of your day-to-day life?

I didn’t grow up with cousins but I did grow up with the idea of cousins. My grandfather had many siblings most of whom lived in New York, my mother would prattle on and on about so-and-so who was married to so-and-so and their kids were named such-and-such and won some awards or were talented musicians and are generally perfect.

It seems crazy --  taking three kids to a big city for a vacation. I always worry before an urban vacation: will there be enough to do? Will it be overwhelming? How will we get around? And will it be relaxing?

Other than the relaxing part, I shouldn’t worry. Every time we take kids to a big city we have a great time. Because kids and cities have some things in common. They are busy, loud and filled with excitement.

Last summer we went to Paris and last week  we went to New York and I have learned some things in our travels:

Sometimes the magic that happens between a child and a toy is not predictable. It is complete chemistry that goes beyond the colours, substance and purpose of the actual toy.

My son Sam, experiences this magic all the time. He falls in love with one aspect of a Lego mini figure or part of a transformer and then he goes into some kind of trance as that tiny piece is transformed into an extension of his imagination.

It is amazing to watch his brain literally grow as he plays. I am jealous of his total escapism. And if I am playing with him, well, I have to admit I am a little bored. His mind is totally free to turn a rope into time machine; my brain lives in the real world most of the time and to get it to bend like his is close to impossible.

Two down, eight more weeks to go. We’ve been on our trip and now we are settling into the routine of nothingness that is summer vacation.

And already my kids are on my nerves. Three kids, three different agendas, one part-time working mom and a part-time nanny. So how do I entertain the kids, get my work done and keep  my sanity.

We left for a short holiday the day that school ended and when we walked back into the house, the first thing that confronts me is the piles of stuff. The bags and bags of paperwork, duotangs, 3-D art projects and awards that all three kids collected on the last day of school.

I stare at the piles amazed and appalled at the amount of busywork these kids have done for the past 10 months. I have nowhere near the output they have. But now that the school year has come to a close what do I do with it all?

I took my kids to the library the other day and they acted like they were at the candy store, running around madly grabbing stuff and asking the people at the desk if they had certain desired items.

It was embarrassing and exhilarating all at once. I am a bookish person, I have taken my kids to the library before but obviously not often enough. My 10-year-old looked at me with wide-eyed astonishment: “I remembered something important today mom, books are free at the library!”