The leading cause of family anguish...the science fair project

 Picture it...Prince Albert, 1990 (Can you hear Sophia Petrillo?)

It's 10pm and air is thick with tension.

The basement carpet of the new-ish home on Eagle Cres is covered in cellophane, fragments of cardboard refrigerator boxes, and bright pink paint - the wrong shade of pink - which has dripped from the paint bucket, over the protective cellophane, and on to the light gray carpet. 

I am sobbing, desperately trying to blend the two shades of pink (that do not match!) onto the cardboard.

My mom is applying carpet spray and lightly dabbing the stain, attempting to remain calm but exhaling loudly with each dab. 

My dad is recutting the cardboard with his exacto knife, while checking on the status of his carpet every 2-minutes and grunting with frustration.

I am whimpering, "It's not the right colour. I need to start over!"

This, my friends, was science fair project time in our home. 

In retrospect, I should have a frank conversation with my mom and dad and question whether this led to the demise of their marriage? Haha. Joking. Sorta. 

You guys, I had a love/hate relationship with the science fair. 

I hated the process. I hated the planning, the experiments, the display. I hated attempting to raise the bar each year, surpassing last year's project. The pressure was immense. Pressure from whom, you ask. Me. The pressure from ME was immense. In fact, I developed an ulcer right around the year that the science fair began and it's definitely a contributing factor. 

But I loved the positive reinforcement. The happiness that the A+ I inevitably received for these projects outweighed the tears, sleepless nights and ulcer-ridden stomach. 

I loved watching the judges' eyebrows raise in surprise when they noted the effort and dedication that was devoted to this project. I always advanced to the city-wide science fair, and although I didn't win that one (for some reason, I was okay with that), I was gifted a special day off of school to hang with the other type-A stress ball nerds of Prince Albert. 

I know that my parents disliked science fair season as well. They always jumped in, offering to help in any way that they could. They did their best. My dad may have overstepped a few times (like whittling an airplane wing from a two-by-four for my "lift" project). Although every year and project was slightly different with different challenges, the one constant remained...anguish and tears. 

Fast forward to 2026. 

I was asked to be a guest speaker at an event called "Cayfest," showcasing children's book authors on island. I was also asked to produce a booth showcasing my book. 

My eyes lit up when I began picturing an extensive science fair display donned with colorful Katie the Caiman posters. I had matured extensively in 35+ years. This was my chance to overachieve in a calm and non-painful way, without harming the ones I love. 

I rushed to the office supply store, as I know the materials sell out quickly during science fair season on island, and I found the magical tri-fold displays...in multiple colors! Selling for $12!

Can you believe this? In the 80's my parents were dumpster diving in the back of furniture stores trying to find these damn things and now one can purchase an already painted tri-fold display. It's not even fair. 

I quickly found the perfect green for Katie and assisted a woman in finding a bright blue one. 

"Book fair project at Prep?" the mom questioned. (Cayman Prep is a private school on island). 

"Huh? Oh. No, this is for my own project," I laughed nervously. 

"Oh," replied the mom. "I just assumed you were a Prep mom. We're all trying to buy these for our kids before they sell out."

"I'm sorry," I replied, "I remember how hard these projects were on my parents. I wish you the best of luck."

"We all know it'll just be me doing the project," she laughed. 

I wanted to shake this woman and tell her how lucky she was that she didn't have to rummage through dumpsters and deal with drippy pain cans. But I held back, wished her the best, and carried on. 

I began to build my display when Evan suggested I could make it even bigger and more impressive by refiguring three of the tri-fold cardboard displays. 

YESSS! Bigger and better!

After collecting more tri-folds (sorry Prep moms!), I began planning my posters. We would need more printer ink and special paper for that. 

In typical island fashion, every office supply store on island was sold out of my printer ink. I was placed on special lists with other desperate printer folk awaiting the coveted ink. I waited on bated breath for days until I received that call that my ink had cleared customs. Once I received my ink cartridges (max 2 per person, people!), I began printing up a storm, filling my extensive science fair project with bright, beautiful posters.

Feeling satisfied with the result, I messaged the organizer of Cayfest, ensuring that I had table space for my science fair project extraordinaire. She informed me that I had about 3-4 feet to work with. 

My heart sank. I frantically got out a measuring tape and determined that my monstrosity was nearing on 6 feet. 

I could feel that familiar science fair lump of despair form in my throat. 

Why won't they just let me overachieve????

"No. You are 46 years old. You will not cry over another science fair project," I told myself sternly. 

Ev entered the kitchen just as I was on the edge of, as the kids call it, "crashing out." 

"I don't know why I care so much. No one else is going to care. This is ridiculous," I sighed as Ev gave me a tight squeeze. 

I took a deep breath, tabled my thoughts, (scribbling and underlining "self-compassion" in my notepad for my next psych session), and proceeded to downgrade the science fair project into a manageable 3 feet. 

This, my friends, is called "maturing." I've obviously reached peak adulthood. The daily meditation is paying off - perhaps not achieving zen status but remaining calm when core childhood memories attempt to derail my emotional stability is a step in the right direction. 

In the end, Cayfest was really fun. I was the only author who created a science fair display, but that's fine. I officially achieved child entertainer status when I was asked to join Ms. Izzy on stage for a "Katie the Caiman" rendition of "Down by the Bay." For those of you who don't know who Ms. Izzy is, let's just say that I scored major street cred with the 2–6-year age bracket. 

I donned a Britney Spears headset mic and moved across a stage, reading excerpts from Katie while demonstrating strategies for parents. The crowd was less than impressive in size, but they were interactive, attentive, and I had a lot of fun! Ev was in the front row, smiling encouragingly, Kris Jenner-style. I had visitors at my booth after the show and sold some books. Overall, it was a solid experience, despite the tri-fold disappointment. 

Cheers to mending childhood trauma. Joking! Sorta. 

It's adequate. Note the fold in the top center poster. That almost killed me. 

Actual footage of Evan

Hypnosis, Mr. Dressup, and Swift parTAYS!

 Hey friends!

It's been such a busy month, full of awesomeness that I can't wait to share with you.

Hypnotherapy

Firstly, I promised that I would follow up with the hypnotherapy experience.

As you know, my psychologist is a trained hypnotherapist and suggested that it might help with these horrible surgery nightmares that were causing me to wake up in the middle of the night in a full panic attack. 

Because my psychologist has known me for 2 years, she produced a script that was fully tailored to my thoughts, experiences, fears etc. She read this script while I was hypnotized, with the goal of accessing my subconscious mind and reframing my emotional responses. 

I was totally game for anything that would stop the nightmares, so I went in with an open mind, but as I felt myself slipping under, I felt scared and initially fought it, attempting to stay alert and in control. Although it took me longer to relax, I began to feel lighter, and kinda fuzzy, similar to that feeling that you experience just before you fall asleep. I could hear everything that she was telling me, and in fact, I remember most of it. It felt very short. Although the session was almost 90 minutes long, I felt like I had only been in that state for a few minutes. She then encouraged me to start wiggling my toes, my fingers, and eventually open my eyes. I opened my eyes and suddenly began crying. hard. like violently crying. 

With snot on my face and chest heaving, I ugly cried for a solid 10 minutes.  I've only cried like that once - when I found out that Monty had died. I wasn't even sure why I was crying, to be honest. 

My psychologist was very encouraging, stating that this session was very productive, and exactly what she had hoped for. 

I drove home in a daze and fell asleep upright at my computer. I felt tired, drained, and very low in mood. I was scheduled to return for another session in a few days, and I honestly wasn't sure if I felt up to it. 

The listless feeling lifted after about a day and when I returned to the clinic, my psychologist suggested that perhaps I didn't require another hypnotherapy session. I was a little surprised, and maybe a bit relieved, but I didn't see how that one session could have really made a difference. 

Well, it's been a month and I have not had one surgery nightmare! Can you believe it? These were occurring 2-3 times per week, and I've been gifted about 30 consecutive nights now without a nightmare panic attack. I was actually afraid to fall asleep at night, and now the only thing waking me up at night is my yelly hungry cat!

Here's what I've learned:

I experienced things during my medical "journey" (I hate that term, but what the hell do I call it?) that my brain processed as traumas. I did everything I thought I could do to move on, including making light of and joking about the events (that serotonin syndrome was some trip, hey?), meditating, participating in cognitive behavioral therapy, and literally running away from it on the elliptical (shocker, didn't work). Despite this, my brain was hanging on to those experiences and wanted to ensure that I did not forget by replaying them to me in my sleep in the most violent, horrible way (how would you like to die on the operating table tonight, Kirstie?).  I needed a way to reach my subconscious and inform it that I am safe. It is over. It's time to move forward, etc. Hypnotherapy appears to have been effective in doing that for me. I am so thankful that I have access to professionals with specialized skills.

As for the body, when my brain is more settled, I see a direct correlation with pain relief. Although I experience pain on a daily basis (OG hip and Britknee, specifically...also is anyone else really worried about Britney????), when I'm mentally and emotionally more settled, which is absolutely linked to sleep, the pain feels very manageable. 

Sharing my book

Secondly, I'm still really enjoying my book adventure, and am busy producing and sharing the resources that go along with Katie the Caiman. 

I offered some professional development to schools last week and was able to show educators how they can target multiple goals and varying levels with one book. The participants were interactive and very receptive to my strategies, while also offering strategies of their own. It was a great experience!

I practiced my phonemic awareness activities with our Canadian visitor, Harper, who is 7 years old. Harper is a super keener and loved the "games," asking to work on word chains every morning. Harper is enrolled in French immersion, so it was interesting for me to see how her sound-letter correspondence was slightly different, but that she could still excel in the activities that I had created. FYI: phonological awareness skills are the number one predictor of reading abilities. Check out www.kirstielindsaybooks.com if this interests you. 

I was also invited to read at one of my old stomping grounds, Edna Moyle Primary School in North Side during their super cute family pajama reading night. I drove out to that school every Thursday and it was one of my favorite schools to visit, so I was happy to return and read Katie in my slippers and PJs. One keen student asked me what species caimans were classified as. EEKS Alligatorian? Crocodilian? Are those species names? Apparently, I need to brush up on my animal classification knowledge. 

I've been invited as a special guest speaker at a Children's Author Book Collective at an event called Cayfest in March. I'm looking forward to demonstrating reading strategies for parents while sharing Katie. I'll also be manning a booth there, which brings back memories of the 1990 science fair which had my parents dumpster diving for fridge boxes while I cried because I needed to win and the paint color was so wrong. Anyone? Anyone? 

I'm becoming more comfortable reading and sharing with the public. It's been a bit of a learning curve and not without its challenges. I still doubt myself, my knowledge, and my skills at times, but the more I share, the more that I realize that I do possess a specific set of skills that can help others, as well as interact and have fun with the kiddos. And, I mean, I had a dream as a child of becoming Mr Dressup or Ms. Fran from Romper Room, so although I don't have a magic mirror or a tickle trunk, I'm basically living my dream. Haha!

Vacationing at home with our Canadian buds

Finally, we hosted our super buds, the Hunter family, for 2 weeks during half-term break. 

To be honest, I was a little concerned about all of us living in such close quarters for 14 days, but it really was an awesome and a memorable "vacation" (I was mostly off work during their time here). In 12 years, I had never visited Crystal Caves or the Turtle Center, so it was fun to partake in those activities, but mostly I just really enjoyed reuniting again! Stacey and Charlene joined us most days as well. We beached, e-foiled, snorkeled, enjoyed an epic boat day, and commiserated together over Canada's suspenseful, yet tragic hockey loss. 

Having a 7-year-old in our home was a big change. Harper was here when she was 4, so she had some vague memories of her previous vacation; however, I think she was slightly disappointed when she realized that our giant pool was not, in fact, our private pool, but belonged to the entire complex, and the "stage" that she envisioned by the pool was actually a BBQ area! Haha. 

There were daily events such as Taylor Swift dance parties (Go "Paper Rings" on repeat!), pirate card games, and lots of singing. I sing to my animals all the time and the fact that Harper quickly joined in, learning all the songs made my heart so happy! (Top hits include "Let the Sunshine In," "Big Stretch," "Bathroom Party," and the very popular "Din Din Time" song). Soon she will realize that my dance moves and pet songs aren't cool, so I'm holding on to this moment for now. I loved spending so much time with Harper. She and Dilbert became super buds, glued at the hip, always waiting for me to get up in the morning! Although the constant crumb dropping contributed, she was also very kind and gentle with both the pets, which I love. I hope that Harper always has fond memories of her time with us. 

We've vacationed with the Hunters for about 17 years now. Our early vacations were mostly diving adventures, including a shark dive that retrospectively makes me shudder (fear of being swept out to sea by current, not sharks). Obviously, our vacations now include much less risk-taking and binge drinking. Sand toys and definitely way more protein consumption are now top priorities; however, the laughs, stories, and love amongst us continue to be the same. Some friends come in and out of your life at different times, and for different reasons, but the fact that our friendship has survived 17 years, so many life changes, and long distance makes me really grateful and proud. 

Cheers!

We still love sharks!