November was uncharacteristically busy for us. That is to say we’ve never had a November as busy – and as FUN – as November 2010. The big events were two trips. The first, a family trip to Banff, Alberta. The second a trip for only adults to see adult friends out in Ottawa.

So first, Banff. We booked the trip back in the fall as a simple getaway. We’ve never been to Banff and we thought it would be fun to take the kids and to just hang out together, see the mountains and enjoy ourselves as a family. Plus, we really needed a little holiday.

Our hotel had an awesome indoor playground and a couple of pools which added up to “Why even bother leaving the hotel at all?” We could have spent 3 straight days in the hotel and driven home and basically considered that a successful holiday. But of course we felt that it would be a shame to come all the way to Banff and not actually spend any time in the mountains.

We took the gondola up a mountain…

…and hiked up to the top…sort of from the top.  :) We started where I’m standing when I took this picture and finished way at the top of the hill.

It was FREEZING. The kids were so thankful to have parents like us who made them walk all the way to the top to enjoy the view. They couldn’t have been HAPPIER. Don’t they look absolutely thrilled?

On a different day we did a really nice hike up to see a waterfall…

…during which our kids complained non-stop. But you totally can’t tell from the pictures, can you?

Overall it was a pleasant trip with having new experiences together, doing some really interesting and fun activities, and just enjoying time together swimming, playing and watching Mr. Bean with our kids for the first time in our cute hotel room that had a nice fireplace and free firewood!  The only negative part of the trip was that for some bizarre reason our kids slept like babies (by which I mean, of course, that they woke approximately 800 times a night which is exactly what they did as babies). Being in a standard sized hotel room we were all a bit tired after three nights of this. But generally the trip was very satisfying and we watched a beautiful sunrise over the mountains on the way home.

The other really major and exciting event in November was that the hubby and I got to take a trip WITHOUT CHILDREN! This was our first real trip far away from our kids. We spent two nights away from them over our anniversary in August but we were only half an hour away from them. Any other nights away have just been sleepovers at our close friends’ house. But this time we left our babies in the care of my sister and some good friends’ and boarded a plane for Ottawa.

We spent the weekend with a group of wonderful friends. We partied like childless people. Staying up late without any thoughts to the consequences, went to grown-up restaurants and walked around downtown Ottawa without hearing a single complaint (other than our own).

I can’t tell you how completely enjoyable it was. I rediscovered the part of myself that weekend that has been lost since I had kids. The slightly more easy-going, more free-spirited and carefree me (I say slightly, because if I’m honest, I’m always going to be a bit uptight!) was able to surface once again. It’s amazing how freeing it is to be responsible for only yourself for 4 consecutive days and how quickly 24 hour-a-day responsibility for little people can stifle certain parts of you. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids. I love staying at home with them. But purely adult conversation and activities with people who I really, truly enjoy spending time with? BLISS.

Of course, hanging out with grown-ups didn’t keep some of us from acting like children…

But we did take a grown-up trip to see Parliament.

It was a little hard to come back home but we did miss the kiddos and it was so nice to come home to their happy faces. I think they might even have missed us a little, but what with getting spoiled rotten by people who love them while we were away I don’t think they even really cared that we were gone.

I consider that a successful trip.

family, holidays | 1 Comment »

***WARNING: This post contains pictures of chickens at various stages of death and dismemberment. If this is offensive to you, you will definitely NOT want to read any farther! Maybe come back in a day or two? Sounds good? Excellent. Have a lovely day then!***

This weekend we had the opportunity to participate in slaughtering 120 chickens. Yes, I just put that right out there. We murdered animals this weekend. But, since we are not vegetarians, I think it was a valuable experience for all of us, and here’s why…

I think there is a lot of value in learning what is involved in getting food to the table. It’s a much longer process than grocery store to dinner plate and while we know that to be true, it’s not the same as actually participating in the process.

Although the hubby and some of the other axe-wielding fellows, along with the kids, really kind of enjoyed some of the gorier parts of the day. I’m sorry, but watching a headless chicken flapping around is pretty creepy. But the kids thought it was awesome.

Seeing the process through, from start to finish was a real learning experience.  From the deathblow of the axe,

to the plucking,

and more plucking,

and gutting,

and washing, and eventually bagging them all up and freezing them.  And lest you think I didn’t actually get my hands dirty…

I know, SO ATTRACTIVE.

Our kids did not actually spend the entire day playing with chicken corpses. There was so much fun to be had at the farm.

There is something refreshing and inspirational about watching kids just enjoying nature and running around outside. They played until they were exhausted. We had to force them to stop to eat and pee. Then they played some more. They can’t wait to go back again.

The whole day was like coming home. Being a part of a community, sharing in the small joys and struggles of a little day like this and having a barrel of fun together. Not fun like Disneyland-fun. But still, fun. It’s been a while.

community, family, kids | 4 Comments »

On the day after our ninth anniversary….

There was a time when I wouldn’t have been happy with a simple trip into town on the subway…

…to eat dinner at a simple pub and make silly faces at the camera and laugh with the kids…

…and to stroll through the city after dinner and enjoy a fountain…

…and to ride the carousel with the kids before we head home early to put them to bed.

But last night it was enough. It was good enough to celebrate our family…

…and the fact that after nine years we’re still laughing together and enjoying the good and simple things in life.

I love you hubby.

anniversary, family, kids, love, marriage | 1 Comment »

If, without prompting of any kind, your child sits down before going to school in the morning and writes out a class roster which she takes to Kindergarten (without your knowledge or permission) in order to conduct a survey of her classmates to find out who likes (and doesn’t like) peanut butter and comes home with the results of her informal poll.  And if she had remembered the names of 18 of her 21 classmates and scrawled her mangled check marks besides names to indicate “yay” or “nay”.  If all these things had happened, you might have a Type A personality.

Avery, family, quirky kids, the good stuff | 6 Comments »

First means that the first time I held you in my arms I was terrified. Excited, happy, and scared. Simultaneously delighted and completely overwhelmed.

First means that your parents will always be just trying to figure out how to be parents. It means you will have parents who don’t really know what they are doing and are just making it up as they go along.

First also means that you are on an epic journey along with the people you call mother and father. Learning as you go.  Discovering the joy of many firsts together.  The exhilaration of first steps, first bike rides, and first dates will always be an extra special part of our bond because it is our first time, too. 

First means that you will often bear the brunt of the blame, be striving to meet high expectations, and feel that you always have the most restrictive rules compared to your counterpart. We notice you too much. I know this because I was first, too.

First means that you get the kind of undivided attention and concentrated vigilance in your first few years of life that only the first gets. It means you were our first great passion, the object of unending fascination and scrutiny.  We noticed everything. How could we not? 

First means, whether right or wrong, we sometimes claim your accomplishments and successes as our own. Because in some small way, your victories are ours, too. First means privileges and first means responsibility. First to delight me in ways I had never imagined. First to open my heart to sacrifice and the absolute fulfillment of you walking around holding my heart in your tiny fingers.

First. My first joy. We walked over the precipice of parenthood together, you in my arms. I gave birth to you and you birthed motherhood in me. First means you are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night.

Second means that the first time I held you in my arms I was confident and in love.  I had already learned how to be a mother and I could relax and enjoy you more fully.

Second means your parents might be over-confident, thinking they know just who you are and not always recognizing your unique and distinct gifts and challenges.

Second means your parents are more experienced, more relaxed. Second means a little more freedom a little earlier.

Second means you might sometimes dwell in the shadow of your sibling. You were not first. You will always be second. You may sometimes be disappointed in what you will interpret as your parents’ lack of enthusiasm over your achievements.  This is not the truth. But simply the harsh truth of resources spread thin.

Second means you are in the unique position of being a constant surprise. Every time someone thinks they know you based on your family history, you will be able to startle them with how very special you are. Second means your difference is part of your charm. Second also means that you might be the same. But never a duplicate. Because the second time we appreciate so much more how fleeting every moment is.

Second means you might sometimes feel overlooked. Forgotten. Second means you will think you can get away with things because of this very problem. You won’t be getting away with them. We are just much cooler than we appear. Or we have become so after a few years of experience.

Second means that “it’s not fair!” will be an important part of your vocabulary.  Second means that even as I write this I am analyzing every word to make sure I do right by both of you. Don’t think that I resent this. It is just so very important to me that you never feel that second is somehow less. Because second is such a complete and utter joy. First arrived and granted my wish, making me a mother. Second arrived and reminded me why I made the wish in the first place.

Second. My second joy. We discovered the fountain of contentment together, you in my arms. I gave birth to you and you birthed peace in me.  Second means you are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night.

family, mommy stuff, parenting, the good stuff | 4 Comments »

We went apple picking last weekend and I am totally feeling nostalgic because this weekend we are drowning in rain.

I’ve never been apple-picking before for several reasons. First, we have never lived in an area where the land was such that it could sustain an entire apple orchard (One or two apple trees in a yard, yes. Orchard? No.). Second, we had friends back in Saskatoon who gladly supplied us with more apples than we could ever want for free.  

So when I saw the price tags of our idyllic apple-picking adventure I may have cursed. Loudly.  But still, it was a lot of fun. The only disappointing part was that the picking is over way too quickly. All that’s left after that is to eat as many apples as you can so as to get more apples for your $25.  Between the four of us we definitely ate another $25 worth. It’s amazing no one vomited. Seriously. AMAZING.

Kieran literally walked between the rows of trees picking up apple after apple off the ground and taking one bite before letting it drop and moving on to the next one.  Awesome. 

OMG. Couldn’t you just DIE from the cute?

Boston, family, kids, Saskatchewan | 3 Comments »

What five year olds are good for:

-unrelenting optimism and enthusiasm
 -convincing a two year old brother to breastfeed a doll while bottlefeeding they’re own “baby”
 -small household chores (FINALLY! THANK THE SWEET BABY JESUS!) like picking up toys and clearing and setting the table
 -keeping you humble
 -making one feel loved with 45 drawings a day that say “To Mommy From Avery” and by saying frequent spontaneous “I love you”s
 -appreciating the simple, fun things in life like swinging really high and pink bubble gum and staying up past bed time
 -anticipation and the pure joy of reaching various exciting events
-creativity and imagination 

What two year olds are good for:

-sweet snuggles
 -helping one appreciate curiousity
 -empathy and concern – like a few weeks ago when I was overcome with frustration and stress and sobbed on my hubby’s shoulder and Kieran ran to me and patted my arm, saying “Tay (It’s OK) Mama! Tay!”
 -delight and wonder
 -standing on the outside of the glass shower door and watching mommy shower like it’s the freakin’ olympics and then throwing toys in the toilet while mommy shrieks, but is helpless to stop you unless she runs around naked and dripping wet
 -hiding the sticks that are part of the frame of a toy tent – we have yet to find them – suspect they endedup in the garbage without our knowledge
-very satisfying giggles

Avery, family, kids, Kieran, parenting, the good stuff | 1 Comment »

You’ve been on my mind a lot lately.  As I drive around the little town that bears memories of you on every street corner I can’t help but remember you.  You spent almost your whole life in this slow-paced town and I see your face everywhere I go.  When I visit with the people who knew and loved you, when I walk past the places where we had “coffee” and the pioneer cemetery where you took us to wash our ancestors gravestones, when I remember walking to the post office to pick up your mail and spending an entire day making noodles in your garage on 3rd street or the church you attended or the hospital where you died I am overcome with a sense of gratefulness for the time I had to get to know you and sadness for the years that I wish we could still have had together.

I took my children to visit your grave today.  I needed to see where you are, even though I know that you aren’t really there.  I haven’t been there in quite a while and I wanted to feel close to you.  I wept sorrowful, hot tears as I watched my kids run around by your headstone.  I know that I have no right to feel this way, but I can’t help feeling as though my kids have missed out on something really special.  They have a wonderful relationship with my mother, their Oma.  But I so wish they could have known you.  I remember you well enough to know exactly how you would have interacted with them. You had a child-like spirit and children always loved you.  I know they would have loved you, too.  It makes me sad that they will only know you as a smiling, gray-haired lady in a picture.  But my daughter has finally grown big enough to wear the sweater you knit. One of the last ones.  It seems unfair that hundreds of children in this community have worn your sweaters and yet only one of my kids will get to wear one – even you would probably raise an eyebrow if I dressed my son in a pink sweater.

I think about you often and I miss you profoundly.  Not many people are natural teachers the way you were.  And not many people have as positive an outlook as you did or knew what it was to love as selflessly as you did.  Not many people had as much respect for people from all walks of life as you did.  I am trying to learn the lessons you taught.  I fear I will fail and disappoint you.  But I am trying to remind myself that you were one of the few people in my life who I rarely felt that I had disappointed. You always told me you were proud of me.  You taught me to hold my head high and to live with compassion for others and with hands open to the gifts this world has to offer.  You would laugh if you read this.  You would shake your head with your jowls quivering and point your bony, crooked finger at my and say “Ech! You’re a silly girl!”.  God, I really miss you.  But there’s something comforting about feeling your presence here in this small part of the world.

Love,
Your granddaughter

family, goodbyes, life and death, Oma | No Comments »

Can I just say that I am really enjoying the last few weeks/months of Kieran’s babyhood.  I tried to enjoy him a little more than I did with Avery. The first time round I was so stressed out from lack of sleep and the pressure of not knowing what I was doing.  This time has been a bit better.  I’m less stressed from worrying about doing things wrong.  But I’m still pretty tired. Avery was a consistently bad sleeper til she was about 8 or 9 months. Kieran has been an inconsistent sleeper which is almost more frustrating because every once in a while he’ll have a great night and then the next night will be terrible and all the nights after that will be terrible, too, and I just want to slit my wrists.  He is 11 months and I keep thinking we’ve GOT to hit that hump some time where he’ll magically start sleeping through the night just about every night.  I need that to start soon.

But I have realized that his first birthday is looming on the horizon already.  In fact, it’s more like it’s rushing at me like a sugar-crazed toddler on a tricycle, and I am not sure I’m ready for it. He’s losing his “babyness” so quickly.  So while I’m here at my parents house, just chilling, I’m trying to savour his delicious chubby baby thighs and his fat little neck and cheeks. I nibble on baby for breakfast every morning with eggs.  So good!  Maybe it’s because Avery has had some kind of a growth spurt recently and has shot up to become a gangly-legged kid and not just a preschooler any more.  Maybe it’s because Kieran is figuring out how to pull himself up to a standing position or that he’s rapidly learning how to walk or that he is starting to climb the stairs with the reckless abandon of a toddler, or maybe it’s just that right now I have time to pay more attention, but it seems to be going even more quickly than I thought possible and I know that in a year or two it will be very hard to conjure up the memory of what he was like at this age and that even the little video clips I take with my camera will seem to be of a different child altogether.  So I will continue to munch on baby whenever the opportunity presents itself, as long as the baby is available.

baby, family, mommy stuff | No Comments »