The Arkansas Traveler

Now we are three ...

2012-01-24T23:39:00.001-07:00

My big boy turned three yesterday. It still sounds funny to my ears because he is the "big" boy around here, and yet, he is only just now three. But there is no doubt about it: He is a boy and no longer a baby. And if you don't believe me, just ask him, and he will tell you. As he tells us. About a hundred times a day.

In honour of my big-boy-who-is-no-longer-a-baby, we had a little birthday celebration yesterday. I hesitate to call it a "party" because only our family was invited--just the four of us--and we kept the festivities really simple. As much as he enjoys going to friends' birthday parties, throwing one of our own would be a disaster. The combination of sugar, excitement, and other kids playing with his toys would be a recipe for a complete meltdown, and I wanted him to enjoy his birthday not spend it crying.

Instead we spent the day doing things that he loves the most: visiting the dinosaurs at the museum, jumping on bouncy castles, and baking, decorating and, of course, eating the birthday cake. (It came in a box. We dyed it pink, purple, green, and blue. It looked awful, but he got to decorate it himself and he loved it. He had three pieces.)

We opened all of his birthday letters and read them aloud--a little tradition I started for his first birthday. Although I must admit he was much more excited by the obnoxious singing, dancing disco-hamster card I bought him than the heartfelt epistles of his nearest and dearest. That's a three year old for you.

And, of course, there were presents.

Since Colin's birthday falls just after Christmas and since, heaven help us!, we do not need any more toys in this house, I put a ban on friends and family giving him birthday gifts. I know, I'm horrid.

Nonetheless, his grandmothers couldn't help slipping a little something in the mail, and Kevin and I got him a set of three Automoblox. And as he's been dancing around the house with them for the past 24 hours, telling us all about "these really cool, awesome toys," I might have to lift the ban next year and go "full toy." (So quickly do our ideals crumble...)

Whatever! We had an absolutely wonderful day, full of smiles and laughter and absolutely free of tantrums and tears. And if you've ever had a two year old--I mean, a three year old--then you know just how rare and wonderful those days are.

Happy third birthday, Colin Henry Beach!

Guess who ...

2012-01-23T23:45:00.000-07:00

... turned three today?

How to Fly with Babies

2012-01-15T23:51:00.002-07:00

You would think that after flying internationally with babies dozens of times that I would be an old pro at it. On the contrary, I have only now figured it out. It was just on this last trip to Toronto to visit family that we had a truly successful flight, so, assuming that this wasn't just a one-off, I thought I'd share a few of my hard-won lessons about flying with babies:

1) Go to bed early. If, like us, you have to wake up at 3:00 a.m. and leave for the airport at 4:00 a.m. to make a 6:00 a.m. flight, then this means everyone must go to bed by 7:00 p.m. the night before. If you are lucky and don't have to leave before the crack of dawn, go to bed early anyway. Once you have children, you will never again get to nap on the plane.

There's just something about little boys and "things that go"...

2) Get to the airport early. Getting to the airport two hours early (or three for an international flight) may seem excessive, but where little kids are involved there are always unexpected delays. Combine two or three unexpected delays, and you've just missed your flight. Trust me, I've done it. And there is nothing worse than waiting around an airport all day on stand-by when you have kids in tow. Now we just get to the airport extra early, have a big breakfast after check-in, and let the kids stretch their legs walking up and down the terminals. By the time we finally board, everyone has a full belly and is ready to have a little morning rest.

Archer burns off a little energy before the flight.

3) Bring a movie. We usually fly cheap no-frills carriers, but on this last flight to Toronto our plane had an in-flight movie, and Colin, my little restless flier, sat mesmerized for the entire three-hour flight watching The Lion King, The Smurfs, and all those other Disney movies we don't have at home. (And Kevin and I got to see all those new releases we've missed in the past year!) The price of a fancy-schmancy iPad or a portable DVD player may seem a little steep, but if they buy you even three hours of peace on your flight, they are worth every penny and the next-best thing to flying First Class.

4) Bring a car seat on the plane. Since Colin turned two he has been riding in his own seat on the plane, and until recently this was a disaster. He would spend the entire flight un-latching his safety belt and trying to crawl under the seat in front of him. Then, on our flight back from Arkansas last October, he fell asleep in Archer's infant car seat just before boarding, so I brought the whole thing on the airplane. And although it was not technically legal, it worked beautifully. This time, I brought Colin's own toddler car seat, and it worked even better. I don't know why more parents don't flight with car seats for their young children (I have almost never seen another parent do this), but I do know that I will never fly again without one. Sure, they are bulky, but you can buy a special backpack or carry-on case for them for about $25, and that--plus a portable DVD player and some diapers--are the only carry-ons you really need.

We were all smiles on this last flight--except when Mama pulled out the camera.

5) Bring a change of clothes. Did I just say you only need to bring a car seat and a portable DVD player? Well, bring a change of clothes for each kid, too. There is something about the change in altitude and cabin pressure that is the perfect recipe for explosive poo. This usually happen right after take-off and before you are allowed to move about the cabin and change a dirty diaper. We've started putting the nylon diaper covers that we use with our cloth diapers on top of the disposable diapers that we travel with and this seems to contain most of the mess. Most, but not all. So pack a change of clothes just to be safe.

6) And pack a few special toys. I also travel with a small back-pack for Colin that I stock with a few special things that are only for flying: a couple of Matchbox cars, some finger puppets, a few small animal figurines, a small notepad and some crayons, and a couple of miniature paperback books. Colin feels like such a big boy carrying is "pack-pack" as he calls it, and it saves me a lot of time that his toys are always close at his hands. To make things easier on me, I bring the same number of each item: three cars, three puppets, three animals, etc., so I never have to wonder if he's lost something under his seat. I just ask myself, "Are there three of them?" If so, we're good to go.

Colin shows off his special "pack-pack" ...

... and Archer tries to make a get-away with some of its loot.

7) Stay calm. Whatever you do, don't let the stress of flying get to you or it will make your kids stressed, too. After years of flying with kids, Kevin and I finally started to see a pattern in our kids behaviour on travel days: just before checking in both kids would start crying and they wouldn't stop until we go through customs and security check. They weren't tired, they weren't hungry, they weren't yet bored with the novelty of flying. Finally we figured it out: they were nervous because we were nervous. In fact, we were sweating bullets because the lines were long and we were worried about missing our flight. Now, we get to the airport extra early so that we beat the crowds and we make sure that whatever curve balls get thrown our way we "Keep Calm and Carry On," and now everyone gets on the plane smiling.

What are your tips for traveling with children?

Siblings, siblings

2012-01-12T10:46:00.001-07:00

We're back in Edmonton after a quick and very last-minute trip to Toronto to visit Kevin's family. Kevin's younger brother, Chris, just got engaged to a very nice girl named Sujin who was visiting, and this was our one chance to see them both before they return to South Korea to live for a few years.

Since this was the first and only time that we were likely to have "all" the family together for a while, I thought that it warranted a picture--bad sweaters and all. Kevin's mom, Shirley, is really big on family, having been an only child herself and having lost her mom at a young age. I know it really pains her that both her sons live so far away and that she only gets to see her grandchildren once in a blue moon. So a photo of us all is about the best present I can give her.

Similarly, Shirley's gift to me was the reminder that the hard years of raising very young children really do go by so quickly. Before I know it, Colin and Archer will be living thousands of miles away, consumed with raising their own families, and I'll never get to see them enough. I promise to think about while I'm out tonight enjoying some much-needed time away from my family ;)

In the meantime, here's to siblings--and coordinated outfits:

Kevin (right) with Chris, circa 1978.

Me, with my brother, Stark, circa 1984.

At Seven Months ...

2012-01-01T09:09:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy month, so I'm just getting this in under the wire, but technically Archer is still seven months old for another week so here goes ...

At seven months, Archer ...

-weighs 18.5 pounds and is 25 inches long. This puts him in the 50th percentile for weight and the 25th percentile for height, which makes him stocky. Must be those Beach genes, although I still think he takes after my side of the family in terms of good looks ;)

-is so mobile! He sits, he stands, he crawls, and as of this weekend he pulls himself up. Kevin says he even saw Archer pull himself all the way onto a low shelf that we have in the living room. Was Colin this mobile at such a young age? I doubt it. But no doubt Archer's physical precociousness is due to wanting to keep up with a big brother who never stops moving.

-has become very vocal. No longer content to just babble and blow raspberries, Archer wants to be a part of the conversation, and, in this house, that means he has to compete with some very big talkers. So far, Archer has discovered that being the loudest gets everyone's attention, even if no one knows what you're saying.

-is such a curious, easy-going, and happy baby. I still get stopped by strangers who are amazed by his cheerful good nature and constant smile, but this month his dominant trait seems to be his curiosity. This baby is into everything--and likes to put everything in his mouth, including (eek!) a broken Christmas ornament! Fortunately, I got to him quickly that time, but I can tell I'm going to have to grow eyes in the back of my head for this one.

(Pictures were all taken at our weekly play group.)

Christmas in Pictures

2011-12-25T23:45:00.001-07:00

Wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas!

Remember when ...

2011-12-18T22:06:00.002-07:00

Until Colin was about two years old he was a terrible sleeper. Even after he gave up night nursing, he'd still wake up several times during the night and would only go back to sleep if Kevin or I (but mostly Kevin) would walk him around his room singing to him.

Colin has been sleeping through the night--and in his own bed!--for almost a year now, but tonight after Kevin put him to bed, he got up, knocked on our door, and said to Kevin, "Daddy, sing me that song about mamas crying."

I was a little baffled by this request, but Kevin knew just what he meant. Apparently, lacking a repertoire of lullabies, Kevin used to sing him "In the Ghetto," that wonderfully maudlin Elvis ballad, which had been one of my old karaoke stand-bys in our younger, more carefree days. Being about boys who grow up to commit armed robbery and are subsequently murdered by the police, it is not at all an appropriate bedtime song, but it does have that catchy refrain, "And his mama cries ...".

It had been a year at least since Kevin had sung him to sleep, yet Colin still remembered the tune. It is both heartening (and a little bit frightening) that just shy of three Colin already has such a keen memory.I wonder, though, what he will make of this particular memory when he is older.

In any case, I think it's time I taught Kevin the lyrics to some proper lullabies ...

What are your favourite bedtime tunes?

New Christmas Traditions

2011-12-11T22:21:00.001-07:00

We have been as busy as little elves here in the build-up to Christmas. This will be the first year that we'll be celebrating the holidays in our own home since the boys were born, and I have so many ideas for introducing our own family traditions--both old and new.

We may not be spending Christmas with Mae Mae this year, but we'll still have her delicious cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. We won't be getting dressed up to go to Aunt Matilda's big Christmas Eve dinner, but we'll have a small one of our own. I may even cook a goose! (Any one know how to cook a goose?) And we're not going to the church's Christmas Eve service (still haven't gotten around to joining a church up here yet), but we have been telling Colin "The Christmas Story" every night before bed. It's my own little rendition: a mishmash of lines from Matthew and Luke interspersed with Christmas carols and topped off with candles and a little wooden nativity set--and Colin loves it! (Although it's probably just the candles and nativity set that he likes.)

Anyway, one of the things that I've been planning, oh, for at least a year now, is our Advent calendar. I snapped it up on super-sale last December 26th, and I've been saving up for the past 12 months to fill its 25 pockets with pieces for a wooden farm set. Kevin calls it extravagant, but when you consider it will be the only toy the boys are getting this Christmas--from anyone--and just about the only toy we've bought them in the past year, it's not so bad. And I'm hoping it will be with our family for many years to come.

In fact, I'm planning on making it part of our annual Christmas traditions. Although technically just a farm set, I bought a variety of figures that can also be used to act out some of our favourite fairy tales as well as the Christmas story. So every November, I plan on taking the figures away and stuffing them in little Advent bags for Colin and Archer to open one each day leading up to Christmas. I hope it will be a fun way to tell the Christmas story and an even better way to cycle toys in and out for better play.

And those Advent bags? I made all 25 of them the first week of December when I realized that little fingers just could not help themselves where a wall full of toys is concerned. So far, drawstrings bags tied up in knots are doing the trick, although I'm sure that won't be the case come next Christmas.

(This, here, is a shepherd, or "The Hunter" from "Little Red Riding Hood," depending on how you look at it.)

(And, no, I don't recall a cat in the Christmas Story either, but where there's a barn, you know there's a barncat--and she doubles nicely for "The Bremen Musicians," too. It will be a little trickier incorporating the "Nativity troll" into the Christmas story, but I'm sure I'll think of something.)

The 12 Days of Christmas

2011-12-08T15:55:00.001-07:00

"On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me:"

"... Four dozen, individually wrapped gingerbread men for the school's Winter Fair."

"... Twenty-five gift bags for the Advent calendar."

"... And one overly-enthusiastic little helper."

Now that's all done, I'm taking a break 'til New Years.

The Rainbow Connection

2011-12-05T12:49:00.001-07:00

When winter rears its head and the landscape here becomes a sea of white, what I crave more than anything is a little colour. So, in anticipation of dark December, I found the perfect crafting project to perk me up: dyeing play silks. (And just in time for Christmas!)

In case the name doesn't say it all, play silks are just that: silk scarves for children to play with. They are the perfect open-ended, imagination-inspiring toy and are a staple of any Waldorf-schooling home. I had been wanting some of my own--I mean, some for my children--for years; however, to buy a set of six ready-made would set you back at least $85. So you see why I had refrained.

But my friend and über-crafty mama M. suggested that we try dyeing our own based on the instructions found here. So, we ordered a dozen 35" x 35" white scarves from Dharma Trading, a company in the States, as well as a dozen of the 6" x 24" scarves to use as test strips, and booked a play date for ourselves--I mean, for our kids.

I was a little intimidated at first having never dyed anything (also, I was more than a little afraid of the mess), but M. has never met a craft she couldn't do--be it sewing, quilting, knitting, or doll-making--and she inspired me to confidence.

In fact, nothing could have been easier. With our boys playing in the other room and our babies sleeping in slings, we set to work. All it took was a little food colouring, a little Kool-Aid and a lot of white vinegar--we're talking 14 litres here. The instructions we used were great, save for a few amendments:

If you try this at home, be sure to should use water that is just below a boil.

Use two or three times as much liquid as the instructions indicate and dye the scarves in a large stock pot. We used the recommended amounts in one-gallon yogurt containers but the scarves did not dye evenly. But don't worry, if you mess up the first time, you can always re-dye them.

Rinse thoroughly in cold water, otherwise, you run the risk of the dyes staining your children, their clothes--everything in your house. (I found that out the hard way.)

Finally, a word on dyes: in my experience, Kool-Aid produced the best reds, oranges, greens and purples, and food-colouring produced the best blues and yellows (you will need an entire bottle of yellow food-colouring to dye two of the large play silks, not the 20 drops the instructions recommend).

Then, just rinse and hang to dry. Colin was playing with his play silks that very evening (I couldn't wait until Christmas), and the whole undertaking set me back $45 and an afternoon spent in good company. Now my home is a sea of colour, and I perk up every time I see one of those lovely silks.

And my kids seems to like them, too.

P.S. Check out the awesome "toy" I made for Archer using the test strips ...

What the Hell Was I Thinking? Vol. 13

2011-12-03T15:09:00.001-07:00

Caption: "Mama, what does this button do?"

Brudders

2011-11-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

Blogging has been a little tricky lately, what with *two* very energetic and now, mobile, little boys. I feel like I spend my day running in opposite directions shouting:

"Don't wake the baby!"

"Don't pick up the baby!"

"Don't put your feet on the baby!"

"Don't put that in the baby's mouth!"

Obviously, most of this shouting is directed at Colin. But despite the ever-present danger he poses to Archer, one thing is clear: he loves his little "brudder" so very much.

To be honest, I cried one year ago today when I found out I was having another boy. Don't get me wrong: I love boys. I can even work up some enthusiasm for my little boy's very boyish interests: cars, Lego, cars, trains, cars ... But like every mother, I think, I would really like to have a daughter of my own.

Perhaps it's the close relationship I have with my own mother that makes me feel there is something different about the relationship a mother has with a daughter as opposed to a son. It's probably just that women have more in common with other women than with most men. I don't imagine either of my boys will be too excited by the things that interest me: clothing, art, crafting, gardening, decorating, women's health, the writings of Virginia Woolf, etc. But if they did, wouldn't that be delightful?!

So it has been a bit of an adjustment for me to settle into the idea of being the mother of two boys. There might still be a daughter for me on the horizon, but I'm not holding my breath. After all, my husband has five brothers and only one sister, and I'm not willing to flip the coin that many times.

However, I will say that one of the unexpected benefits of having two boys is witnessing the delight they take in being brothers. There is nothing Colin loves so much in this world as having a little brother. He asks to hold him at least 10 times a day. He gets protective if another child comes too near Archer. And just the other day, Colin and I were talking about the things they could do together once Archer is older. I don't think it had occurred to him before that Archer wouldn't be a baby forever. And so Colin started making lists of all the things they could do together once his little brother isn't so little any more: "play cars, play Lego, play cars, play trains, play cars ..."

And that enthusiasm is reciprocated. Archer is a very happy, smiley baby, but no one can get him to smile so big or laugh so hard as his big brother can. And bless his little soul, Archer is even laid back about the rough handling he receives from Colin day in and day out, which is good, because I'm sure he will receive a lot of it over the years. But hopefully, he will also have a best friend--something that is far too rare among most of the men I know.

So, in the end, I can't imagine a better set-up than having two little boys so close in age. Although next time, a girl might be nice.

P.S. However, if every little boy could be as happy and laid back as my sweet Archer, I would take half a dozen of them in a heartbeat!

The days ...

2011-11-28T14:33:00.001-07:00

... We are:

-busy decorating the house for Christmas for the first time since Colin was born: including fresh-cut Christmas tree (you gotta love Ikea!) and exterior Christmas lights. After three years of nagging Kevin to put up lights on the house--and after three years of him not doing it--I just up and did it myself yesterday. I have seriously got to try that more often. (Kevin agrees.)

-listening to Handel's Messiah on high rotation. I find it impossible to be in a bad mood when listening to such beautiful music.

-repeating the Christmas Story over and over at Colin's request while he acts it out with his little Nativity set.

-repeating over and over, "Don't leave that Nativity set on the floor where Archer can eat it!" Hmmm. That Nativity set might need to go back into the attic for another season.

-eating lots of comfort foods as a buffer against the cold days: beef stew with homemade bread, chicken curry with sag paneer, and lots and lots of butternut squash soup and apple pie. I guess there is something I like about winter after all.

-missing the sunlight, but trying to make up for it with lots and lots of candlelight.

What are you up to these days?

This little light of mine ...

2011-11-23T08:27:00.001-07:00

We've entered the darkest part of our year here in the frozen North. The sun doesn't rise until about 9:00 a.m. and sets around 4:00 p.m., so we have fewer hours to do all the things we need to accomplish in a day--including blogging.

But last Sunday we scored a little extra time--and light--when we participated in the Lantern Festival our little Waldorf School. It was probably about -25 that night, but despite the frigid temperatures, we bundled up the whole family and joined with about 40 other families to walk around the school singing songs and carrying lanterns--and then we quickly went inside for hot apple cider and cookies.

All those kids with homemade lanterns (we cheated and bought ours at Ikea) and the clear, starry night--well, it just filled my heart with joy. I didn't even mind the cold. So, I decided to bring a little of that joy and light home with us.

For the past couple of days Colin and I have been making our own homemade lanterns using tissue paper painted onto jam jars with a little bit of water and glue. It turns our it was an ideal craft for a two-and-a-half year old as it involves a lot of imprecise cutting with scissors. Sadly, we also cut up our pajamas. Oh, well! At least we have some colourful laterns to decorate our playroom through the long winter.

Now, if only their light cold actually add a few extra hours to the day ...

Again with the WTHWIT?!

2011-11-10T09:49:00.001-07:00

Recently, while my back was turned (just for a minute I swear!), Colin emerged from the kitchen with this in his mouth. "Mama, look! I'm eating too many butters." he said proudly. Yep, that's a pound of butter he's feeding his face with as if it were a chocolate bar.

You would think based on recent blog posts that my child is suffering from some sort of dietary deficiency. I swear we feed him balanced meals. Or at least attempt to. Is it my fault if he will only eat things that are white or yellow? Perhaps we would get farther with his palate if we covered everything in salt and butter?

At Six Months ...

2011-11-08T09:32:00.001-07:00

My sweet baby is six months old! I can't believe he's been with us half a year already. Nor can I believe that my maternity leave is already half over. (Sigh)

But let's talk about happier thing. Let me tell you about my sweet boy. At six months Archer weighs about 18 pounds and is ridiculously tall. Sadly, I can't tell you exactly how tall he is nor much he weighs because I missed our six-month doctor's appointment on Friday. I just plum forgot. Let's just say he's big. About three pounds heavier than his "big brother" was at the same age, and he's already wearing size 12 months clothes. And I love my big, little boy. Especially those chubby cheek and those chunky thighs. I could just eat 'em!

Now let's talk about how talented my boy is. For the past month or more he's been rolling over and putting things in his mouth, but now he's putting everything in his mouth. Nothing is safe. He's been banished from the dinner table at present because I'm tired of my dinner ending up in my lap.

He's also moved on from rolling to skooching. In fact, yesterday while my back was turned he skooched from the living room, across the hall, and into the dining room. Sure, it was backwards, but there's no doubt about it: My baby is mobile.

Unfortunately, this new mobility means that it's no longer safe for Archer to sleep in the bed with us, so this week we've been transitioning him to a crib next to our bed. And while that hasn't been fun--that first night he cried for about an hour--it hasn't been as hard as I thought either. Now he goes to sleep after just a minute or two of light whining. And more importantly, it's given me a break because he's no longer nursing continuously all night! Hopefully a "good" night's sleep will soon be had by all.

Now if we could just get Colin to sleep through the night ...

Autumn in Arkansas

2011-11-02T09:39:00.000-06:00

The boys and I just got back from two-and-a-half weeks visiting family and friends in Arkansas, and because I timed our visit just right we got to have Archer's christening, see my brother (who now lives out of state), go to a cousin's wedding, and see a best friend's newborn baby.

We also got to see Autumn twice this year, both here in Edmonton and back home in Arkansas. It was the first time I have seen an Arkansas Autumn in many years, and I had forgotten how beautiful it can be. Unlike our Edmonton Autumns that are bright yellow, Arkansas Autumns are a pale gold and deep red. The grass stays green and the days are still warm. The late-summer roses are blooming, and the garden is full of butterflies, including the shy Monarch, who wouldn't stick around to be photographed. Most of all, the air is teaming with noises: of birds, crickets, and various other critters.

Aside from seeing so much of my friends and family, the best part, for me, is getting to relax in my family's home, where there are fresh flowers in every room and someone else does all the cooking, cleaning, shopping and laundry. It's almost like going to a hotel, but with old family photographs on the walls instead of generic art. And needless to say, without the expense!

Back home in Edmonton now, winter is already in full swing. The trees are bare and the mornings quite cold. But all I have to do is look through these photographs from home and it warms my bones a little.

And a big Thank-You to my parents for making it all possible!

Look out for Spiderman

2011-10-31T08:09:00.001-06:00

Happy Halloween! Colin chose his own costume for Halloween this year so, of course, the only choice was to go as Spiderman. He's been wearing his costume for the past two weeks, and now that he's perfected his web-slinging technique I think we're ready for trick-or-treating tonight. The Green Goblin had better run!

What are you going to be this Halloween?

Worst. Mother. Ever.

2011-10-17T22:01:00.000-06:00

I am the worst mother ever.

No, don't bother arguing with me. I am. What kind of mother let's her two-year-old son ride in the bassinet stroller meant for an infant?

At least, that's what all the bystanders in the Denver Airport were no doubt thinking when they saw Colin dive head-first out of said stroller and onto the concrete floor. It was a pretty bad fall. So bad, in fact, that after the blood was cleaned up and we flew on to Little Rock and had him checked out by a pediatric dentist (at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday night, thank you very much), it was clear that it had pushed one of his front teeth an inch deep into is gums and sent the other jutting out at a hideous angle.

I am devestated. I know I shouldn't care that much about my child's looks. I mean, thank God, he's OK. But still, it's his smile. His beautiful, beautiful smile, which would bring compliments from strangers on the street and which could melt my heart no matter what troublesome thing he had just done. Now my heart breaks just a little every time he cracks his snaggletooth grin because it just looks so awful and reminds me of what a terrible mother I am.

After all, it's all my own fault. I let Colin ride in Archer's stroller like that even though I knew it was a bad idea, but at the time I thought, "What the hell? It'll keep him from getting into worse trouble."

I suppose I can be a little cavalier about things like that. Colin is an extremely energetic, extremely athletic little boy, and he comes from a long line of such boys (on my side). In my opinion a boy like that has to learn he own limits through experience. They won't listen to anyone. Kevin takes the opposite tack, but then he comes from a long line of men for whom physical activity means turning the pages of a book or building a motherboard. If we disagree about anything in our parenting (and we disagree about very little), it's that I think Colin needs a long leash and Kevin doesn't like him to step too close to a second-floor railing.

But, of course, Kevin is right. And I could see it in his eyes when he returned from that ill-fated Starbucks run I sent him on to find me cradling our oldest son all covered in blood.So from now on, no one gets to have any fun. Ever. At least not on my watch.

Autumn in the Rock

2011-10-13T22:13:00.002-06:00

We're off for the next two weeks visiting my family in Little Rock--or "Great Big Rock" as Colin calls it. I hope to do a little blogging while we're there, but you never know. We might be having too much fun. See you on the flip side!

A Room of One's Own

2011-10-13T13:58:00.000-06:00

We leave for Little Rock in less than 24 hours, and what am I doing? Not packing or washing another load of laundry. And I'm certainly not sleeping. Nope, I'm doing some last-minute marathon sewing. (Is there any other kind really?)

With the nice three-day weekend we just had I finally convinced Kevin to help me set up the basement--the one that flooded over the summer. What used to be our playroom is now my sewing, crafting, reading room. And the playroom's permanent home is what used to be mine.

It's not as nice as my old space. It's in the basement, after all, so there's no natural light. And in my opinion basements were meant for hobbits, not people. But its got an enormous desk, a wall of books, my mom's old sewing machine, and my old computer (so that I can watch movies into the wee hours while I work).

It's not much, but it's all that I need: A room of my very own.

Well, almost my very own. Sometimes Colin likes to join me down there and "help."

Books for Tots

2011-10-11T22:53:00.000-06:00

How much do we love our public library? "This much!" says Colin.

Every Tuesday Colin, Archer and I walk to our public library, returning a few books and checking out a few more. Or more than a few, as evidenced by the number of books and videos we returned this morning, in anticipation of our trip to Little Rock.

That boy of mine is on a real reading kick these days. I mean, he's always loved books and being read to, but these days he begs us to read him book after book after book, sometimes a dozen in a row. Why? I think it's because I finally found the right kinds of books that capture a toddler's imagination.

At two and a half, Colin is too young for many of the longer picture-story books and too old for most "toddler" books. In fact, the other day I tried to read him Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes, which I had just bought for Archer, and one page in he turned to me and said, "Mama, I can't read this book. This is a baby book."

But so many of the books in the two- to five-year-old range don't appeal to two-to-five year olds at all. You know the ones I'm talking about. All those touchy feel-y books about love and motherhood and apple pie. (That said, he loves Apple Pie by Kate Greenaway.) At two and a half, he's not able to verbalize most of his emotions, let alone care about anyone else's. Besides, some of them just make me want to wretch and are on my own personal banned books list.

Then there are the shelves and shelves of gimmicky books that publishers bring out just in time for Christmas. You know the ones: some story about a rooster who lost his voice and discovered a talent for playing banjo as told by Steve Martin and illustrated by some artist from the New Yorker. Now, I think a book about a banjo-playing rooster would be hilarious, but my two and a half year old could care less. "Too much angst, not enough action," Colin would say to me ... if he could verbalize such criticism.

So what does he like? Fairy tales. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. These are the stories Western culture has been passing down for hundreds of years, and consequently only the good ones have survived. Also, by the millionth retelling they have been edited and polished to perfection. Most importantly--to Colin at least--they are dark and disturbing and full of action. Parents who abandon their children in the woods. Wolves who eat little pigs and grandmothers and little girls. Dragons and dwarves and witches doing all sorts of magical things. There are the good guys and the bad guys and neither of them of talks about their feelings.

These stories have so inspired him that they have infected all of his play. We don't just go to the playground any more, we play "The Three Billy Goats Gruff" on the bouncy bridge. And no walk in the woods is complete without a hunt for wolves (although I might have had a little something to do with that.)

I know that one day, oh, probably when he's three, he'll want to read the stories about "feelings." And that will be a good thing. But right now, we are very content with "Once upon a time ..."

Here's what we're reading right now. What are your favourite fairy tales and other books for the in-between toddler set?

The Three Billy Goats Gruff. (We own three version, but Colin's favourite is an old "Lady Bird Edition" that Kevin had as a child.)
Little Red Cap, illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger
Puss in Boots, illustrated by Fred Marcellino
Jack and the Beanstalk, illustrated by Robert MacKenzie
The House that Jack Built, by Diana Mayo
Anything by Paul Galdone: Rumplestiltskin, Henny Penny, The Little Red Hen, The Three Little Pigs, The Three Bears, etc.
Although not "fairy tales," these books about "little people" by Elsa Beskow are among our current favs: Children of the Forest; Woody, Hazel, and Little Pip; The Sun Egg.
Hansel and Gretel and Cinderella as retold by Cynthia Rylant. Although Rylant's versions talk a lot about "feelings," they are also the most insightful retellings of these stories I have ever encountered. I will never think about them in the same way again. And Colin thinks they're pretty good, too.

P.S. I included the illustrators because the pictures make such a difference in the retelling of these stories. Colin and I prefer the more painterly, realistic version to the more wry and cartoonish. After all, toddler don't get irony yet.

You are what you eat?

2011-10-04T23:04:00.000-06:00

"How much do you spend on groceries a month?" Who would have thought that such a simple question could cause such controversy? But that's just what happened over at Beauty that Moves today when Heather asked that very question.

Heather confessed that she spends $800 a month to feed her family of three a vegetarian, whole-food, mostly organic diet, but is challenging herself to spend half of that for the month of October as a belt-cinching exercise. Well, the comments exploded (for reasons I won't go into, but you can check it out for yourself, here). The interesting point, at least for me, is that many of the commenters from across America are feeding much larger families for much, much less. We're talking a family of seven for $400 a month, or a family of four on $300 a month. How do they do it?!

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and make my own confession: I feed our family of four an omnivorous, mostly-whole food, partially organic diet for $800 a month. There. I said it. I feel like I just farted in a quiet room or something.

Why is it so embarrassing for me to confess that? Well, first of all, I was brought up not to mention money. Period. But more importantly, I just feel like it's way, way too much. I must be a terrible homemaker if I can't be more frugal.

So where does it all go? Well, first off, I spend $60 a week at the farmer's market, where I buy all of our meat and eggs and most of our produce. I realize it's a little steep to pay $5 for a dozen eggs or $11 for a small lamb shoulder, but I don't see myself changing this. I have a very personal relationship with the farmer from whom I get most of my produce, and I like knowing that the food he has so thoughtfully grown for his two kids is the same pesticide- and herbicide-free food I'm feeding my two kids. I also like knowing that the meat we eat--and we only eat meat two nights a week--has been humanely raised and slaughtered. That said, I realize this is a luxury. Still, it only accounts for a fourth of our monthly food budget.

Yep, those farmer's market eggplants are beautiful--and expensive at $7 a pound.

And I do grow some of my own veggies, but that only works for about two month of the year.

The rest goes Superstore, a discount big-box store, much like Wal-Mart in the States. I used to shop at our neighbourhood Safeway, but one week our bill came to $330 (for one week!), and I vowed never to go back. So, I'm proud to say that rigourous meal planning, bulk buying, and discount shopping has whittled our grocery store budget down to just $140 a week--and that includes toiletries. (But not liquor, because I can't go without my nightly beer and, jeez, this is Canada: a case of "cheap" domestic beer will set you back $25!)

Now, I know that some of the sticker shock comes from the "Canadian premium," which is about 35-40% more per item than what I used to pay when we lived in the States. Some of that premium is due to our location. We live in "northern-ish" Canada, where the growing season is only three months long and the range of foods that can be grown is very limited. Much of what I buy at the supermarket has been shipped very, very long distances. But it's not like I'm eating blackberries in July. I'm eating peaches in August, but still, they had to be flown in from British Columbia.

Another huge chunk of that premium comes from Canada's protectionist policies on dairy, which means that we pay $5 for a gallon of milk and $8 for a pound of cheddar. And let me tell you, this family consumes it's weight in dairy a month.

Finally, there's the fact that wages are higher here because Canada has universal healthcare and a true living wage and those things don't come cheap. But they are wonderful things, and I'm happy to pay a little extra at the check out line so that everyone can enjoy them.

I even make our own bread--shouldn't that count for something?

And there was the week I resolved to "eat out of the pantry..."

So there is the naked truth of our family's grocery budget. Shocking isn't it? More importantly, what can I do to lower it? Because while we are lucky to be able to afford to spend so much on our groceries, I would prefer to spend less so that maybe we can put more money toward other priorities, like buying our own house one day ...

What are your cost-saving measures at the supermarket? What do you skimp on and what are you willing to do without? What do you spend on a gallon of milk? A pair of chicken breasts? A dozen eggs? Am I wrong in thinking that the difference at the check out line is mostly due to latitude?

Oh, and if you're interested in following along on Heather's "$400 Grocery Challenge," just click through the button on the right nav bar. I'll be lurking myself, but I'm saving the "challenge" for November. I figured it would be too easy to cut my monthly food budget in half since we'll be mooching off my parents for the next two weeks.

One thing I can't skimp on: real maple syrup. Since Kevin turned me on to it, I've never gone back to Aunt Jemima.

Even More from the WTHWIT? Department

2011-10-03T21:15:00.000-06:00

He did it again! You would think I would have learned how to keep Colin out of the dry goods by now, but you'd be wrong.

The other day when I stepped out of the shower, I heard an eerie sound: silence. So I ran to the kitchen and what should I find but Colin with a box of table salt all over the kitchen counter. And he was eating it. By the handful.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me," I taunted myself.

In my defence I did put the salt out of reach after the last time, but he's learned how to use his highchair as a ladder, the crafty little devil.

Where should I store the salt now, do you think?

The Leaf Man

2011-10-02T22:05:00.001-06:00

Autumn has definitely arrived here in Alberta. In fact, it's almost gone. But this year, while I've been on maternity leave, I've been able to make the most of it, venturing into Edmonton's lovely river valley for weekly walks with the boys.

Last week I got the inspiration to turn our walk into a hunt of sorts. After reading Lois Ehlert's wonderful picture book, Leaf Man, to Colin for the the upteenth time, I decided that we should make our own Leaf Man.

Leaf Man is nothing more than a collage of leaves that resemble a man, but it requires a real variety of leaves to really bring him to life. So we set out with our collecting bag and our sticks--sticks are essential, according to Colin--and searched high and low for maple leaves and oak leaves, berries, and pine cones.

I have never seen Colin so excited to be out in nature. In fact, this time last year I could hardly get him to take his shoes off in the grass. Even a few weeks ago, I had trouble getting him excited to go on these little nature walks with me. But Leaf Man seems to have done the trick. This time Colin was grabbing leaves off trees and getting down and dirty in search of just the right earthy accessory.

At one point he even decided we needed to go off on a narrow little side path deeper into the woods. It was already getting late in the morning and I didn't relish the idea of having to carry Archer and Colin for the half hour it would take us to get back to the car, so I tried to persuade him to turn around. When that didn't work, I lied and said we couldn't go deeper into the woods for fear of wolves. (I know, I know. I am a horrid mother.)

Unfortunately, this only inspired him to go further. "Mama, I want to see those wolves," he said. "Where are they?"

Oh, Lord! I think it's about time we read Little Red Riding Hood, don't you? ...

At Four Months ...

2011-09-29T16:01:00.001-06:00

My baby is four months old! OK, really he's just a week shy of five months, but who's counting? Certainly not this mama for whom time has flown by much too fast. Yesterday, we took Archer to be weighed and measured, and he weighed in 16.5 lbs and 25 inches long--definitely not in the feather-weight division any more!

It amazes me how quickly they go from little babies to big babies, just a couple of months really. For the past month or so Archer has been sitting up in his Bumbo chair and the exersaucer (or the "Neglector" as some of my mama-friends call it), holding himself up on his forearms, and grasping toys (and putting them in his mouth). He watches everything we do and often chimes in on our conversations with grunts and gurgles. And did I mention the giggles? This is one ticklish baby, and nothing delights his big brother more than causing him to break into those glorious peels of baby-laughter.

Such a happy, contented baby. I guess that's something at least that hasn't changed at all.

These days ...

2011-09-27T23:34:00.001-06:00

These days I'm loving:

... our beautiful Indian summer and soaking up every last drop of sunshine before the end of the season.

... the changing Fall colours: red, orange, yellow, brown.

... "Pink Lady" and "Tie Dye"--those delicious tomatoes that did finally turn thanks to an extra week of warmth.

... Tomato Salad--every day for as long as I can.

... Sophie Giraffe--the only thing that keeps my littlest boy happy through this long bout of teething.

... the last minute Dollar Store purchase that was just the right toy for right now.

... little boys--and little boys who love being brothers.

What are you loving these days?

Adventures in Experimental Education

2011-09-26T23:04:00.000-06:00

A couple weeks ago Colin started school. Sure, it's only for two hours, one day a week, and his little brother and I are there the entire time, but for him this is the Big Time. This is School. "The Waldorf School," to be exact.

Over the summer Colin developed an intense fascination with "school." During our daily outings he'd see kids playing on the playground at recess or on a field trip to the zoo, and he'd want to know all about what they were doing--especially "the Big Yellow Bus." He was really keen on the bus.

He started saying, "Mama, I want to go to skoo-ul." So, this fall I decided to start taking Colin to play school. Edmonton happens to be one of the few places in Western Canada that has a Waldorf School, (a European pedagogical philosophy that's having a bit of a resurgence, especially among the North American homeschooling set), and ever since I first learned about Waldorf schools I have been eager to try them out.

My first encounter with Waldorf-Steiner education was when Kevin and I were living in Germany, and my German teacher taught an entire week's worth of lessons about "Der Waldorf Schule." She showed us all these videos of sunny classrooms where little kids played recorders and sang songs about nature, made little clay pots and gardened, and reenacted scenes from the Grimm's fairy tales. They were absolutely the most charming, happy, and peaceful classrooms I have ever seen, and it broke my heart that there wasn't a school like that around when I was a kid. It would have suited me perfectly.

So, as you can imagine, starting at the Waldorf School was as exciting for me as it was for Colin--perhaps a little more so. On Sunday night, I laid out all our clothes and loaded Colin's miniature backpack (or "pack-pack" as he calls it) with the "fresh, organic fruit" we were asked to bring for snack time. Then we all went to bed nice and early. The next morning, we got to school by nine o'clock--the earliest I have been out of the house in months--and all without anyone feeling rushed or frazzled. This was a very good start.

The classroom itself was even more lovely than I had imagined. Every aspect of the room was thoughtfully and artistically designed, from the shelves filled with natural wooden toys to a corner kitchen play area made up of a canopy draped with rainbow coloured silks. An overstuffed couch in one corner and a big plush rug made the room feel more like a comfy living room than a school classroom. My German teacher would have called the room very "gemütlich," which literally means "cosy" but also has the connotation of "good-natured" and "unhurried."

And our morning at the Waldorf School was just that: good-natured and unhurried. After morning greetings sung around a circle, the teacher performed a little music and a puppet show, and then the kids were free to play. Colin was already one step ahead of her, being the only child unwilling to participate in the organized activities and preferring to proceed directly to playtime, but the teacher insisted that Colin would join when he was ready and that he was watching and participating in his own way on the periphery.

While the kids played the teacher had us parents sit at the big classroom table and do a little craft project. She explained that if our hands were busy we couldn't "hover" over our children and that it was important for them to see us "engaged in our own meaningful work, as play is the meaningful work of childhood." While I hardly think making felted lavender sachets qualifies as "meaningful work," I get her point. And I was only too happy to sip tea and chat with the other parents over felt swatches while Colin played on his own.

Playtime was followed by "Clean-Up Time" followed by "Washing Hands Time" followed by "Snack Time, and each "Time" was marked by special song that cheerfully described the transition and the next activity. It almost felt a bit like being in a monastery or convent, where the monks and nuns sing proscribed songs at the different prayer times. And it certainly worked wonders with the kids, who, confident in what was going to happen next, were surprisingly amenable to cleaning up and moving on, without meltdowns or tantrums.

After classroom time, we all moved outside to the playground. The playground at the Waldorf School is striking for what it doesn't have: any of the large colourful plastic gym equipment that you see on regular playgrounds. Instead, there is a small wooden play gym, a big pile of sand, and lots and lots of tree stumps. I was a little skeptical that the kids would be excited by this, but once the older classes came outside (the school runs through Grade 2), the playground was a flurry of activity: some kids digging in the sand with shovels, others making forts out of the stumps, and my own child determinedly stepping from stump to stump in a never-ending circuit around the yard. It was the perfect end to a perfect morning at School.

The only thing that could have made Waldorf School better in Colin's mind would have been a Waldorf school bus.

Quiet Time

2011-09-22T09:08:00.000-06:00

5:00 p.m. My favourite time of day. Kevin's home and takes the kids outside, and I go to the kitchen to cook dinner. Alone.

I don't actually like cooking all that much, but I do like to eat well. And so until the day when I can afford to eat out every evening this means I have to cook dinner.

But after a day of looking after two little boys, I don't mind the cooking. It means I get to do something creative, from start to finish, with no interruptions. I get to look out my kitchen window at the changing seasons. And I get to sip my beer in quiet solitude.

What's your favourite time of day?

Garden Report: 2011 Edition

2011-09-19T08:19:00.001-06:00

Well, there's not actually much to report for 2011, because when my garden was supposed to be getting planted I was off having a baby. A few weeks later, though, I pulled it together and bought a few seedlings in six-packs, which, I have decided, I will do every year (until I have my own greenhouse!) because, frankly, our season is too short to try to grow from seed and I just don't have enough sunny window sills to grow seedlings indoors. And even if I did, my cat would eat them. She likes tender green things.

So, here's what did grow:

Peas: Yummy, yummy! Next year I will plant twice as many, because I actually only grew enough for a couple dinners of peas. Also, be sure to water in July or they will burn right up.

Beans: Golden wax and green varieties. Double yummy! But maybe next year I can find some pole beans. I always think I'm buying runner beans, when I'm actually buying bush beans, and I'd rather have the runner beans. They're just so much more ... dramatic.

Swiss Chard: Chard might be my favourite leafy green. (But then again, what doesn't taste good sauted with olive oil, garlic, onion, and a pinch of salt?) And the rainbow variety is certainly the most beautiful thing that grows in my garden. But I almost didn't have any this year thanks to a mysterious flock of birds that arrived in early June and ate them down to the stems. Any clue what kind of bird would do this? I'm stumped, but next year I will build a scarecrow of some sort.

Raspberries: Beautiful crop of raspberries this year--enough for breakfasts and for freezing. I think I'll use them to make raspberry tarts in January. Wouldn't that make the month just a little bit brighter? But note to self: raspberries ripen from July 15 to August 15, which is when I usually take a vacation. Next year, I think I'll stick around for the raspberries and take my vacation in June, when it's rainy and full of mosquitoes.

Rhubarb: This might be the most successful thing I grow. Two years ago I transplanted a couple of neglected root heads from an abandoned lot and now I've got four or five of the biggest rhubarb plants you have ever seen--far more than I can use. I mean, you can only eat about one rhubarb pie a week without getting sick of the stuff. I think next year I will try to can some strawberry-rhubarb jam, if I can work up the courage to try my hand at canning.

When you've forgotten to make dessert: pick raspberries with friends.

And here's what didn't grow:

Peppers: At the start of the season I bought a three-foot-tall miniature red pepper plant on a whim. And while it did produce lots of miniature red peppers, they were so miniature I actually couldn't pick them. Oh, well!

Strawberries: I had a nice little strawberry patch last year, but this year I had very little fruit, owing, I think to the fact that the strawberries share a bed with the raspberries, and the raspberries are starving them of light and nutrients. So next year, I'll rip up the strawberries and add more raspberry bushes. Might as well grow what grows well.

Tomatoes: Again. I planted only about 12 plants this year, and, to date, I have had only six ripe tomatoes. (Tie Dye--a yellow variety--and Pink Lady were the only early producers.) I have lots and lots of green tomatoes--and I think we'll be having Fried Green Tomatoes all this week. But the days have grown too cool to ripen any more and a frost is due any time now. So that's it! No more trying to grow tomatoes in Edmonton. I've sacrificed half of my vegetable beds to them every year I've been here, and it's just not worth the space or the disappointment.

Things to grow next year: Carrots, lettuce, spinach, and kale. These are all things I've grown before and things that we ate a lot of this summer, so next year I'll try growing them again. Also, I know grow well in Edmonton, and from now on I'm only going to grow what grows well here. In addition, I think I'll try my hand at potatoes, onions, and zucchini. My neighbours all grew lots of these, and they did really well. But remember: a little zucchini grows a loooong way.

A final note to self:You don't have to grow everything. That's what farmers' markets are for! This summer we made it to the farmers' market every weekend and have really enjoyed buying all those things we can't grow ourselves: eggplant, cucumbers, bok choy, gai lan, and peaches. Oh, the peaches! I had to throw this photo in for good measure. No, we can't grow peaches in Alberta, but BC grows the most delicious peaches in the world (outside of Georgia), and I've been enjoying one every day for the past month. Next year: pickled peaches?!

Most importantly: It's supposed to be fun. Just ask Colin.

How did your garden grow?

Some days ...

2011-09-13T22:57:00.000-06:00

Most days I wake up to a cooing infant and a toddler who wants to give me a "big hug and kiss."

But some days I wake up to a screaming, thrashing, teething infant and a toddler who yells, "You go away, Mama, I want Daddy."

Some days the workers show up unexpectedly to jackhammer my foundation.

And some days the jackhammering lasts all day.

Some days someone never makes it to the potty on time. (I'm not naming names here.)

Some days I spank my child for hitting me on the head even though I know that's counter-productive and I promised myself I'd never do that.

Some days I need a beer before two o'clock.

Some days are just like that I guess.

Divide and Conquer

2011-09-06T23:00:00.000-06:00

It's no secret, we've been having a bit of a rough patch around here. One of the hardest parts has been that up until now, Kevin and I have always parented together, meaning we eat as a family, play as a family, go to bed as a family, and basically do everything together.

My friend Debbie, who is a more experienced parent, has always maintained that this was insane. "Two kids will change all that,"she said. And of course she's right. There is just no way for two adults and two babies to do everything together and anyone get anything done. So since Archer was born, Kevin and I have been trying the divide-and-conquer approach: one parent plus one kid going in opposite directions in order to accomplish twice as much. And it works ... up to a point.

We do get a lot more done. The problem is that for practical reasons Kevin always takes Colin and I always take Archer, and so our children have developed wildly intense parental preferences. I suppose this isn't necessarily a problem, except that it creates hurt feelings. Not among the kids mind you. Colin is perfectly content when he can get mom and brother out of the picture and have his dad all to himself, and Archer is like, "Dad? What Dad? Where are the boobs?!" But Kevin isn't so happy that his youngest son screams like a banshee whenever he is alone with him, and this mama is tired of having her feelings trod on by a two year old who says things like, "Mama, you go back to bed, I want to play with daddy." (Do you know the number of ways a two year old has for hurting his mama's feelings? Oh, let me count the ways ...)

So recently, as part of my new Plan, I instituted "Swap Nights." The idea was that if Kevin had more time alone with Archer, Archer would be more at ease him. And if I could have some time with my eldest boy--without a baby in tow--then I wouldn't haven't be such a scold all the time and we could enjoy each other's company more. But it hasn't quite worked out that way.

A couple of weeks ago, I took Colin swimming--just the two of us--and we had a blast sliding down the slide and jumping into the pool ... until Colin decided it would be even more fun if he could take off by himself and run around the pool--the 10-foot-deep adult pool! So that evening ended in scolding and tears.

Then, the next week, I took Colin to a puppet show. One minute he's is squealing with delight, the next he is screaming, "I wanna go home!" Of course, once I take him out of the theatre he screams, "I don't wanna go home!" So which is it?! (By the way, it's not like Colin is afraid of puppets. We've been to many puppet shows as a family and he's loved them.)

Kevin's evenings with Archer didn't go any better. Apparently, five minutes after I left the house Archer burst into tears and was inconsolable until I returned two hours later, even though he was well-rested, well-fed and dry.

So what are we to do?

I suspect that Archer will simply outgrow his preferences--especially once we introduce a bottle. (I know, I know. My son is four months old and I haven't introduced the bottle yet. I am either crazy or stupid, or both.)

But what about Colin? Is this just what two year olds are like? Will he outgrow this? Or should I just grow up and stop trying to make my son like me. I guess one outta two ain't bad ...

Labour Day

2011-09-05T23:31:00.001-06:00

We spent our Labour Day with some of our best little friends: picking apples, munching on gifts from the garden, and going on a mouse hunt. What did you do with yours?

Farewell, Friend

2011-09-01T23:30:00.001-06:00

Tonight, after much toe-dragging and soul-searching, our beloved dog Remy moved to a new home. It was a decision I came to reluctantly. He'd been with us since he was seven weeks old--over three and a half years now--and we'd been through so much together. All the hard work of puppyhood and adolescence was done. He was a good dog. But even a good dog is no match for the "terrible twos"--of a toddler, that is.

About six months ago it became clear to me that our home life wasn't working. Remy has always been an excitable dog (he is a Border Collie, after all), but somehow we managed. However, once Colin turned two and started zipping around the house on his ride-on toys and rolling his cars across the floors, we couldn't manage any more. Remy started herding Colin (he is a Border Collie, after all), and Colin, quite rightly, found this terrifying.

To make matters worse, Colin started retaliating by chasing Remy and yelling at him (he is a two year old, after all), and Remy, quite rightly, found this terrifying. We tried our best to curb this behaviour on both their parts, but there was only so much we could do. It's just in the nature of a two year old to want to run around the house and it's just in the nature of a herding dog to want to herd him when he does.

Then, of course, we had a second child, and, suddenly, I found myself with three demanding creatures to care for and only two hands. I had to do the daily walks in two shifts: one for the kids and another for the dog, because I just couldn't manage all three at once. Often Remy had to go without one of his walks and would spend large parts of each day outside, which is no life for a dog, especially a whip-smart, high-energy dog like Remy.

And soon, I knew, the winter would come and Remy would have to spend all his time inside with us. However, lately, whenever Remy was in the house with us, Colin would cry, "Mama, put Remy outside." How could I survive a long winter of this? I can't ask my son to go without any cars or ride-on toys. Those are basically the only toys he's interested in. Also, I know what it feels like to be a little kid and herded by a big dog. My grandmother had an Australian Shepherd when I was a kid and the dog was forever barking at me and nipping at my heels. It was terrifying, and I was a lot older and a lot bigger than Colin. I want my child to love dogs, not be afraid of them.

I was at my wit's end, when my mother suggested finding Remy a new home. I was horrified to even consider it, but my mom put things into perspective when she said: "If you could find him a home as good as yours, could you let him go?" The answer was yes.

So I started putting the word out through friends and colleagues that Remy was looking for a new home. I mourned for Remy. And then I waited and waited. Six months passed and I hadn't found a good candidate. I had just about decided that we'd have to find a way to muddle through somehow when I heard about a friend-of-a-friend who was looking for a dog.

D. had recently lost his own dog and was looking for another but didn't feel he had it in him to go through puppyhood again. And I couldn't blame him. Having raised two puppies and two babies, I can say with authority that puppies are the more challenging of the two.

D. was everything I was looking for. He owned a house with a big yard, was really active, and had no kids. Best of all, he "got" Border Collies. He grew up around them and regularly visits the family farm that is full of Border Collies. Still, could I really give him my dog?

Despite our problems, Remy is actually a great dog. He's gentle with babies and our cat. He can catch a Frisbee in mid-air. He walks on a leash like a pro and is forever winning the praise and admiration of passers-by. More importantly, when I got Remy I made a promise to him and to myself that it was for life. And I knew that in a couple of years Colin would outgrow this phase, and he and Remy would learn to cohabitate peacefully--they'd probably even be good friends. Sure, there's another boy that has to pass through the "terrible twos," but Archer is much more easy-going than his big brother. It likely wouldn't be an issue for him...

But my mom put things into perspective for me once again when she said: "I know you can wait it out for another couple of years, Sarah, but can Remy? Two years is huge portion of his life." Wow, how do moms just do that?

So yesterday Remy went on a little visit to D.'s house. And D. took him for a bike ride. (Really? My dog did that?) Then he played with D.'s extended family of dogs. (Really? My dog did that?) Then he went to a party and sat around a campfire all night. (Really?! My dog did that?!) D. said that Remy behaved "beautifully" all day and night and that he is by far the "most calm, best-behaved" Border Collie he has ever met. Well, of course he is. He's my dog!

So this morning, when D. offered to take Remy to his grandparents' farm for the long weekend--and then to take him forever--I didn't hesitate.Later this afternoon, D. brought Remy around for a few hours so that we could say our good-byes. I think Remy was actually a little sorry to come back into our chaotic lives--or maybe he was just exhausted after such a fun-filled 24-hours. Nonetheless, I got Kevin to watch the kids, and I took Remy out for one last hurrah. We took a big walk around the neighbourhood, played Frisbee in the park, and paid a call on his best doggie-friend, Levi. As we were doing so, it occurred to me that this was the first time all summer I had done any of these things with Remy, but with D. he'll get to do them every day.

When D. came to pick Remy up tonight--for the last time--I didn't shed a tear. How could I? Remy is going to be so very happy. I will miss him though.

Rem, Rembo and Remy-doddle through the years:

A Temporary Playroom

2011-09-01T05:00:00.002-06:00

For the past several months--oh, who am I kidding--for the past year I have been working on transforming our finished basement into a playroom, only I never could seem to finish it. Then, as I came this close to the big reveal, the basement flooded. Then it flooded again and again. So, while I wait for the basement to be repaired (current estimate: November), I've decamped the playroom to main floor, where my study/craft/guest room used to be. And you know what? I think we all prefer it!

Although it's a quarter the size of the basement playroom, the furniture fit--and it gets lovely afternoon light.

Since it's a temporary arrangement, though, I didn't want to spend any money or even put new nails in the walls. These playful prints fit perfectly where a series of old photographs used to hang.

The shelves are from Ikea and are the best toy storage ever--so easy for little hands to reach and for practising cleaning up.

There's a place for everything, and everything in it's place (most of the time).

The new arrangement has even given some old toys a new lease on life.

At first I really wanted to put a rug in here, but, again, not wanting to spend money, I found that a colourful quilt works just as well.

And the bare floors are much more sensible for those explorations with paint and Playdough, don't you think?

Even Archer is getting in on the playroom action.

Since this photo was taken that adorable elephant has had a tragic accident with a glitter pen. Does anyone know how to remove glitter glue from plush? Clearly somethings need to be off-limits even in the playroom.

The End of a Season

2011-08-30T19:09:00.004-06:00

Took the boys on a walk "in the woods" today--a beautiful wooded trail down by the river. It was a big adventure for Colin, as he's never been "to the forest," as he calls it. (I guess he doesn't remember last year's trip to Jasper.) We talked about all the things we saw: the river and the boat house, the ducks and the squirrels. Everything was new to him, and it was exciting for me to see all these things anew through his eyes.

There was a real chill in the air, though, and of course I didn't bring Colin's jacket. Why would I? It's August--the middle of summer, where I'm from. But about half an hour into our walk Colin complained about it being cold, so we turned around to go home. And then he pointed to something at about eye level. "What's that, Mama?" It took me a minute to realize what he was pointing to: a bough of yellow leaves in a forest full of green ones.

I guess summer's really over. But as much as I'll miss it, it's kind of exciting when seen through his eyes.

Have the leaves started to turn where you are?

All in the Family

2011-08-28T23:45:00.007-06:00

Kevin and I don't have any family in Edmonton, and let me tell you it's been hard raising two kids without family nearby. Our parents and siblings all live thousands of miles away, and while my parents are wonderful about visiting and helping out however they can, it's not the same as having them over for dinner on Sunday or (even better) having them occasionally babysit on a Saturday night.

They say "it takes a village" to raise a child, but increasingly we're all living outside of the villages we grew up in and few of us ever find a similarly close-knit community. The cultural critics will say that family has been replaced by the "tribe," by the self-segregating communities of like-minded people, but you can't ask members of your tribe will not take care of your kids when they are too sick for daycare and you have a critical meeting at work.

I have a lot of friends who are raising their children surrounded by extended family, and I often wonder if they realize how lucky they are. They have parents who can take their kids to music lessons or pick them up from school if Mom or Dad has to work late. They have sisters who keep the kids on summer breaks or on the odd afternoon when Mama needs to get things done. And there are lots of little cousins all growing up together. It makes me sad that Colin and Archer won't have that experience growing up, because I did and it was wonderful. But, fortunately, we've found a branch of the family that's not too far away--even if they are a bit more distantly related.

Colin decides he needs every car.

Matthew graciously allows Colin a turn at the wheel.

Kevin's "Auntie" Peggy and "Uncle" Jon recently moved to Calgary to be near their daughter and son-in-law and their two young children, and even though Peggy and Jon aren't really his aunt and uncle (I believe they are actually his second cousins or something), but they treat us like their own. They have us down to visit two or three times a year, and, of course, we're never allowed to lift a finger. (That's Jamaicans for you: never met a stranger and hospitable to a fault. I think it comes from growing up in a small island community.)

Last week they hosted us again, as we need to apply for Archer's U.S. passport and be out of the house for a few days while workers repaired our foundation. It was our only "summer vacation" this year, and even though it was just a trip to Calgary, they made it feel like a trip to an all-inclusive resort. I love going to Peggy and Jon's house because it's the only place I can travel to with two kids where I don't have to go through a security check or pack more than a carry-on. Because they have two grandkids in town, they are all set up with cribs and changing tables, toys and strollers. And best of all there are little "cousins" for Colin to play with.

Peggy and Jon's grandson Matthew was born just weeks after Colin, and they couldn't have been better matched as playmates: Colin demanded use of all the cars, and Matthew graciously obliged. For his part, Matthew was only interested in driving his big sister's battery-operated Barbie car, and Colin was more than happy to be chauffeured around--so long as they stopped periodically to dance to the car's built-in sound system. If you know two year olds, then you know how rare it is for them to share, much less make it through an afternoon without a meltdown.

Surprisingly, our visit was meltdown-free ... until the very end, when I was the one crying, "I don't wanna go home!"

Peggy provides road-side assistance ...

... including emergency juice boxes.

Are you raising your family in a village or a tribe? How do you make it work?

This Moment ...

2011-08-26T11:29:00.002-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

More WTHWIT?!

2011-08-23T15:09:00.006-06:00

Item No. 3 in the "What-the-Hell-Was-I-Thinking" Department: Forgetting to shut the basement door, after which Colin went downstairs and proceeded to empty an economy-size bag of dog food on the floor and then mixed it with the entire contents of our tool box. I'm sure the dog will be thrilled.

The first thing you might be wondering is why, with two small children in the house, do we own 10,000 tiny screws and nails? A very good question. We now own only 10 screws and nails.

Secondly, you might be wondering where I was while this transpired: Putting Archer to sleep. Hey, can't be in two places at once, you know.

Finally, you might be wondering how I managed not to hear this? Well, because I was running the washer, the dryer, and the dishwasher all at the same time in preparation of our trip to Calgary this afternoon. This is significant because we have faulty plumbing, which causes water to pool on the basement floor. So, you guessed it: soggy dog food!

Miraculously, I did manage to clean it all up before we had to leave town, including the dog food he put in the dryer along with my wet clothes.

But the real question is: How did I manage not to kill my son?

What was the worst thing your kid ever did?

At Three Months ...

2011-08-21T23:37:00.001-06:00

... Archer weighs 16 pounds and is already into the 6-9 month clothes.
... can sit up (with assistance) and wants to sit up and watching the world around him all the time.
... is so wiggly that I've had to start swaddling him again at bedtime.
... has started taking a pacifier and going to bed on his own, in his bassinet.
... wakes up full of things to say and delights us with his gurgles all through breakfast.
... has a big belly laugh that gets everyone else in the house laughing.
... is still the sweetest, easiest baby I have ever encountered and a constant joy and delight. Truly.

Wings

2011-08-18T23:13:00.004-06:00

How much do I love this boy?

Of course, he will probably hate me for this when he's older.

Kevin: "Did you have to buy the skirt, too?"

Yes, yes, I did. Otherwise he's just some kid with wings. But with the skirt he's a fairy! Make that a fairy prince.

Colin: "Mama, I want to fly!"

Anytime, my sweet boy.

A New Day, a New Day Plan

2011-08-16T22:10:00.000-06:00

Well, I'll be the first to admit, everything here has just gone to sh*t. I'm out of the country for four days--four days of friends, feasting and wedding festivities--but it takes me twice that to get caught up. Kevin and Colin did a reasonable job of holding down the fort while Archer and I were away, but I still returned to about 12 loads of dirty laundry, dead plants, a feral dog, and only a half a loaf of stale bread in the cupboard. Now that the house is spit spot again, it's time to tackle the other things that have gone to sh*t lately...

First, Colin's eating habits. Colin's not eating anything. At least nothing more than cereal and bagels with cream cheese. Granted, he is the world's pickiest eater, but before this past month of upheaval I was getting him to eat more, try new things. He had discovered he actually did like peaches. And I got him to put vegetables in his mouth--twice! Of course, he immediately said they were "yucky," but it was progress, believe me.

Second, our family sleeping arrangements. I am a big fan of co-sleeping. It has enabled me to get a sinful amount of sleep despite having a newborn; however, I am ready to have my bed back to myself. Well, Kevin is welcome, too. In fact, I really miss sharing a bed with my husband, who spends about half of every night in Colin's bed trying to coax him to sleep. I don't understand. Why won't he just go the f*ck to sleep? By the way, have you seen this? It had us laughing to tears.

Third, potty training. It needs to happen already. We were doing really well before the baby was born, but since then the toddler has rebelled. New rule: underwear only, except for bedtimes and outings.

Fourth, the children's personal hygiene. I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I don't always remember to brush Colin's teeth. Heck, these days, I'm not sure I've remember to brush my teeth twice a day. Same goes for our vitamins. Did you know that we have to give the children Vitamin D supplements every day because we have so little sunshine up this far north? Well, I had forgotten, and the pediatrician gave me hell about it. So, now I've got to remember to do that, and the teeth, and make sure nails are clipped, ears cleaned, faces washed, and that everyone has put on a clean pair of clothes at least once a day--Mama, too.

Fifth, Mama needs some time to herself. And not just between the hours of 10:00 and midnight when I get to clean up the house all by myself. I need at least one hour every day when I can sew or read a book or soak in the bathtub--alone. Did I mention that I haven't taken a bath alone in about a year?

So, here's my new day plan for accomplishing all this:

6:00 a.m. -- Kids wake up. Daddy does the breakfasts while Mama sleeps. By herself. Spread eagle to the corners of the bed.

7:00 a.m. -- Daddy goes to work. Mama takes over an entertains kids with books, songs, art projects. No more movies!

9:00 a.m. -- We get dressed. It takes about an hour. Archer = 5 minutes. Mama = 5 minutes. Colin = 50 minutes.

10:00 a.m. -- We go somewhere. Anywhere, so long as it's out of the house. Otherwise, Colin starts bouncing off the walls. Literally. (I'm not joking.)

12:00 p.m. -- Lunch at home. A real lunch. At least one piece of fruit. No more corn chips!

1:00 p.m. -- Naptime. All of us. Dishes can wait.

3:00 p.m. -- Wake up. Even if we could all keep sleeping until 5:00. Maybe that way Colin stands an outside chance of going to bed before 10:00.

5:00 p.m. -- Daddy comes home and takes the kids outside so that Mama can make dinner, tidy up the house, and do all those chores she can't do when she has a baby in her arms.

6:00 p.m. -- Dinner and play. But no playing with your dinner, Colin.

7:00 p.m. -- Bath, books and bed by 8:00. I'm often tempted to go out in the evenings since my kids are such night owls--taking Colin to the bookstore or Archer to the grocery store--but that's probably why our bedtimes are such a mess. So no more evening outings, although I don't know when I'm supposed to go to the grocery store now.

8:00 p.m. -- Mama's time.

10:00 p.m. -- Bed. And to each his own bed. Perhaps if I'm really in bed by 10:00, I stand an outside chance of waking up in the morning without two hours spent watching a movie with Colin while I nurse my (decaf) coffee. Although, as I write this, it is already 11:00, so the new day plan begins tomorrow.

(Archer laughs, "Day plans are for babies.")

What does your day look like? Especially if you have kids, how do you manage your day so that you can eek out a little personal time?

This Moment ...

2011-08-12T09:56:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

WTHWIT?!

2011-08-09T23:28:00.000-06:00

Item No. 1 in the "What-the-Hell-Was-I-Thinking Department": After flying into Edmonton with Archer at 2:00 a.m. this morning, I had an 8:00 a.m. appointment to get my fillings re-drilled.

Item No. 2 in the "What-the-Hell-Was-I-Thinking Department": Falling asleep with Archer and leaving Colin unsupervised. In case you're wondering that is an entire box of salt and another of cornstarch. Fortunately, I woke up before he got to the 5-pound bag of sugar.

Big Brothers says to Little Brother ...

2011-08-03T21:45:00.000-06:00

Colin: "Ian Archer has beautiful eyes."

Yes, Colin, yes, he does. (Heart)

And don't worry, I caught Archer right before he slipped off the pillow.

Your Weekly Archer

2011-08-03T07:43:00.000-06:00

As promised, here's your weekly dose of Archer.

The other day a friend said to me: "You know, this is about the happiest baby I have ever seen." And you know, I think she's right. I love my happy baby.

P.S. I'm also loving this quilt right now. It's got a bit of history to it: It was hand-stitched in the '70s and given to my grandfather, a country doctor, in lieu of payment by a little old lady he treated. Then it covered my parents' bed right after they married. The colours are a little retro, but they're perfect for summer.

We get by with a little help from our friends

2011-08-01T21:46:00.000-06:00

Whew! I just made it through my first-ever stint as a "single parent" to two children, and I'm pleased to say we all survived--well, maybe not my parents, who flew up to help out. They went home last Friday a little worse for the wear I fear, and I'm sure they were saying all the way back to Arkansas, "I'm so glad we don't have little kids anymore!"

With Kevin in France and Italy for "work" for the past two weeks, my mom came and took over the dishes, the laundry and the dog-walking, and my dad helped tend to the incessant demands of the two year old. They both mowed my lawn. It wasn't a trip to France or Italy but it was almost like a vacation for me. Almost ...

This Moment ...

2011-07-29T05:00:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

An Announcement

2011-07-27T20:59:00.000-06:00

Right about now, many of you are receiving Archer's birth announcement. Yes, I know, he was born nearly three months ago, but they call it "snail mail" for a reason.

Actually, the announcements were held up by a poorly timed postal strike, by the fact that I have a newborn in the house (and precious little time to myself), and because I wanted to send out actual letterpress birth announcements. I know it probably seems a little old-fashioned. After all, you all already knew the details of his birth and have seen countless photos of him, but, to me, sending out an email announcement or even posting on this blog just seem so ephemeral. There is something so much more permanent about an announcement that is delivered through the mail. Not to mention something much more beautiful! I just love the pebbly grain of expensive paper and the artistry and precision of letterpress printing.

These announcements were lovingly printed by my dear friend Jesse Marsolais at the Firefly Press in Boston, and he could not have conceived of a more appropriate way to announce the birth of our Archer. Jesse also printed Colin's birth announcement, and over the years has kept me in exquisite personal stationary. Unfortunately, I'm not finding much time these days to put pen to paper, but hopefully that will change in a few months once Archer is a little more independent. And when I do, there is certainly a lot for me to write home about ...

P.S. Check out Jesse at work on the press in a cool video on Firefly's website. I just love having such talented, artistic friends! Now, if someone would take up painting, I can finally decorate my bare walls ...

The Second Child

2011-07-26T17:00:00.000-06:00

When I sat down to write this post last night it brought a little pang to my heart. I missed posting about Archer's first month with us and very nearly missed posting about his second. It's true what they say that parents take fewer photos of their later-born children. If it weren't for the photos my friend Vi took of us all just after Archer's birth, we would hardly have any photos of him at all.

But beyond my negligence as his documentarian, I feel a bit negligent as his parent. I've given him so much less attention than I gave to his big brother at the same age--than I still give his big brother. Archer can usually be tucked away in my sling and forgotten about for a few hours at a time while I tend to Colin's latest accident/demand/meltdown. But bless him, he doesn't seem the worse off for it. He is so calm and gentle and good-natured, it almost makes me wonder if Colin might have benefited from a little more "negligence."

One doesn't like to compare one's children--and I'm not saying I prefer one over the other--but so far, my boys are as different as night and day. Since the day he was born, Archer has been a relaxed, contented baby. I think I can count the number of times he's been truly hysterical on two hands. As an infant, Colin barely slept and was wound so tightly he would scream his head off every time he got his diaper changed. In fact, he still fusses about getting his diaper changed. I will be so glad when he is potty trained.

Likewise, my boys bear little physical resemblance to each other. Although they inherited a few characteristics from each parent, Colin looks more like Kevin's side of the family and Archer more like mine. (Colin has my dimple, his father's hair; Archer has my eyes, his father's, um ... earlobes?) I remember being surprised when I held Colin for the first time: He had such a full head of spikey black hair, how could he possibly be mine, I thought? But Archer I recognized immediately as a Ligon.

Lately, I've been wondering if they come by their differences naturally or if I've played some role in making them so very different. Was Colin really such a difficult infant, or was I just an inexperienced, insecure parent? Is Archer really so relaxed, or am I just better at meeting his needs quickly. It's certainly true that whenever Colin cried it made my blood pressure shoot through the roof. Archer rarely cries because we are so in sync that I know what he needs almost as soon as he does.

Perhaps it was the difference in their births: Colin's was very intense and nerve-wracking; Archer's was peaceful and easy--and they say that stress hormones present at birth stay in a baby's blood stream for weeks afterward. In this case, I wonder, could they still be in Colin's two-and-a-half years later?

Whatever the origins of their differences, it's exciting to have two such dissimilar children. Who knows what this very new, very different baby will bring to our family mix? Will he be left-brained like his daddy or right-brained like his mama? Will he be impish like his brother or something entirely different? In any case, I ought to do a better job documenting his many differences. So I'm setting myself the goal of taking a few new photos of him every week and posting them here. Shouldn't be too hard, right? Not with such a handsome mug ...

Tell me, were you a different parent the second, or third, or fourth time around? Do you think it's made a difference in your children's personalities?

At Two Months ...

2011-07-25T21:54:00.000-06:00

This is a bit of a misnomer, since Archer is nearly three months old now, but since I forgot to post about his first month (bad mama!) I wanted to sneak this one in under the wire.

At two months, Archer:

-weighs about 13 pounds, we think. I haven't weighed him in a while, but I can tell you he weighs a lot.

-is still as calm and as gentle as the day he was born.

-tolerates his big brother's manhandling with great patience. He might as well get used to it.

-loves hearing music. Perhaps we have a budding musician? He's got the fingers of a pianist, I tell you.

-has the greatest smile, which he shares with everyone--all the time.

-is cooing and chatting and holding up his head like a much older baby. He's very advanced, you know.

-has his Pop's head, his mama's eyes, his great-granny's lips, and his uncle's chin. Oh, and don't worry, Daddy, he did get something from you: those long Buddha earlobes, which the midwife says is a sign of a very long life.

This Past Weekend ...

2011-07-24T21:39:00.000-06:00

We enjoyed some all-too-rare grandparent time. My mom and dad are in town helping out while Kevin is away, but even though much of our time is spent just managing the day-to-day tasks of a busy household we've found a few opportunities to enjoyed ourselves.

We've ridden carousels...

And trains ...

And trains ...

... and more trains. (In case you haven't noticed, Colin really likes trains. I think it's a universal two-year-old-boy thing.)

And there has been lots and lots of baby-holding ...

... Which means I have finally found a few minutes to catch up on blogging and reading and relaxing. Heaven!

What did you do with your weekend?

This Moment ...

2011-07-22T07:07:00.001-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

Seven Things

2011-07-20T22:12:00.000-06:00

I was recently tagged in a post from Vicky over at Coffee and Milkies for one of those "Seven Things" lists (thanks for the shout out, Vicky!). OK, "recently" as in a week ago now. I've been meaning to repost every day since then, but life keeps getting in the way: flooding, absent husbands, arriving mothers, and lots and lots of workmen who only show up at nap time and proceed to track mud all over the house I just finished cleaning. Nonetheless, thank God for them all!

But I love the idea of this post, since so many of the bloggers I read rarely write about themselves. I mean, they write endlessly about their families, their hobbies, their little corners of the world, but never directly about themselves. And they almost never post pictures of themselves so I have very little idea what any of my favourite bloggers really look like. So I wanted take the opportunity to be as self-focused as possible. (Funny since blogging is an inherently narcissistic endeavour.)

Anyway, finally--after the workmen have left, the house has been tidied, the groceries bought, and everyone else has gone to bed (even the dog and the cat)--here are "Seven (random) Things" about me:

1) I used to want to be a photo journalist, but then I learned how little money they make, so I decided to become a writer instead. (Lol!)

Writing in the old apartment in Boston. Don't I make it look glamourous?

2) I am inordinately fond of chickens. When we moved to Edmonton, I ordered a few hens for the backyard, only to cancel a few weeks later when calmer heads prevailed. (That head would belong to Kevin.) And thank goodness! I have enough creatures to care for at the moment. Although, I still hope that one day we'll live in a more southern clime, where keeping chickens would not be so much trouble. I have no interest in schlepping out in the snow in minus-30 temperatures to scrape the poop off the coop walls.

3) My two best girlfriends are also named Sarah. (What can I say? Sarah's are awesome!) And I cannot wait to travel State-side next month to hang with them both at the wedding of our other best friend, Shannon, whom we love ... even though she's not a Sarah.

Sarah, Me, Sarah and Shannon. Those were the days!

4) Despite my many posts about cooking, I actually hate to cook. But I like to eat, so if I want to eat well, I have to spend a lot of time cooking. I would give it all up, though--and gladly--if I could afford to hire a personal chef.

I'll cook if I have to, but I'd rather be served. In an outdoor cafe. In Paris.

5) Also, despite my long-winded posts about books, I'm currently thinking of getting rid of about half of my library to make more space in our tiny house for a playroom. So this is what it comes to, huh? Parenthood finally beats you down until you get rid of your old hobbies to make way for more Lego ...

I think it took me about six months to read this book--and that was when I just had one kid. To be fair, it was a really loooong book.

6) I think I'm developing a bit of a textiles addiction. I peruse the Fabricworm website about once a day. I'm starting to dream in fabric swatches.

7) If I had my career to do over again, I think I would become a gardener. Not a landscape architect, by just a regular old gardener on an estate or at an historic site somewhere where I can get my hands dirty. Alternately, I think I'd become a midwife. They get their hands pretty dirty, too.

What are "Seven Things" about you?

Ketch. Up.

2011-07-18T06:53:00.001-06:00

After the long silence around here, I ought to play catch up.

And it has been an eventful two weeks around here, let me tell you! First I was sick, with my second bout of mastitis in two weeks. Then Archer was sick with a fever that kept us up a couple of nights and made my normally happy baby very fussy. Then the dog was sick--in the living room, the dining room, the kitchen.

And have I mentioned the mosquitoes? The uncommon amount of rain we've received this season means that we've had an equally uncommon amount of mosquitoes. Now, I know my Southern friends and relations will scoff at this: "Mosquitoes, you say? Let me tell you about mosquitoes..." But I assure them that these are no ordinary mosquitoes. These are black swarms of ravenous mosquitoes, which leave silver-dollar-sized welts on you kids. This is a biblical level of mosquitoes we're talking about here.

To top it all off, our basement flooded--again--for like, the third time this summer. So, after mopping up another mess, we had workmen in all last week to finally address the source of the problem, which turns out to be faulty plumbing. That's gonna be expensive, so I'm glad we just rent. However, it means we'll have workmen jackhammering the basement floor sometime in the near future ...

But not this week, thank God, because this week my parents are coming to visit and help me out, while Kevin is off galavanting around Europe. He calls it "work" but I say that escaping floods and pestilence and children for two weeks and hanging out in sunny France and Italy cannot be called "work."

It's funny to think that I started this blog back when Kevin and I were travelling around the world together and named it for the song "The Arkansas Traveler," about my mythical itinerant countryman--but it will be some time before Kevin and I are traveling like that again. Oh, well. To everything it's season...

For now, I'm not too upset to be stuck at home with two kiddos. Although I could do without the flooding and mosquitoes. Fortunately, this week's forecast predicts sunshine. And fortunately, Mae Mae and Pops are coming to town just in time to prevent me from serving up another dinner of corn chips and French fries.

P.S. This photo is of Colin's peculiar way of enjoying his ketchup, which I adore (despite the mess) because it was the same way my brother and I ate our ketchup when we were kids. Maybe it's a universal kid thing?

Red Sky in Morning ...

2011-07-17T20:47:00.000-06:00

It's never a good sign to wake up to this view outside your window. And, yes, in case you were wondering, the heavens did open up and flood my basement. Again.

I (Heart) This Boy

2011-07-06T07:00:00.000-06:00

A recent conversation overheard between Colin and his daddy ...

Colin: "Does Colin have heartbeat?"

Kevin: "Yes, Colin, you have a heartbeat, right here." (Kevin points to the left side of Colin's chest.)

Colin: "Does Daddy have heartbeat?"

Kevin: "Yes, I have a heartbeat."

Colin: "Does girls have heartbeat?"

Kevin: Yes, girls have a heartbeat.

Colin: "Does Urmila have hearbeat?" (Urmila was one of Colin's favourite caregivers at his daycare.)

Kevin: "Yes, Urmila is a girl. She has a heartbeat."

Colin: "Does Fanny have heartbeat?" (Fanny is the cat.)

Kevin: "Yes, Fanny has a heartbeat." Colin pauses for a long moment and looks up to Kevin with concern.

Colin: "... Does Mama have heartbeat?"

I'm glad to know that in Colin's taxonomy I fall somewhere between girls and cats.

This Past Weekend ...

2011-07-04T22:00:00.000-06:00

... After what seemed like 40 days of rain, we enjoyed getting back out in the sun (or shade, for some of us).

... Colin kept finding new things to climb up ...

... and slide down. "This park is really nice, Mama," he said.

... And we had fun playing with friends.

... A lot of fun. Thank you, Jeff, Michelle, and Nora, for a great Canada Day!

This Past Weekend ...

2011-06-29T23:43:00.000-06:00

... I enjoyed the last of my bearded irises. They were four feet tall and just glorious.

... We tried out our new fairy wings -- I mean, butterfly wings.

... In fact, we tried lots of new things -- and his mama is just so proud of him.

... We made it through the sleep deprivation with lots of babywearing--and strong drink (just kidding).

... Actually, we made it through the sleep deprivation thanks to the joy of baby smiles.

This Moment ...

2011-06-24T07:43:00.001-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

Let the Sun Shine

2011-06-22T07:21:00.000-06:00

Ten straight days of rain and one flooded basement later, the sun has finally emerged. Hallelujah! I was starting to feel a bit like Noah in his ark here, all cooped up in doors with an infant, a toddler, a dog and a cat and the floodwaters rising all around me. We are all in great need of some sunshine and a little drying out--especially my poor garden.

I know rain is good for the garden, but this relentless downpour has wrecked havoc on mine. The "lawn" has grown a good six inches and the weeds a solid foot, and I never managed to plant my lettuces or my flower boxes. I have six packs of geraniums, verbena, and ... that have been sitting around and waiting to be planted for a month now. Where does the time go?

So, when the sun finally emerged yesterday at 7:00 p.m., I told the husband and children to fend for themselves, and I went straight out to work in the garden for a few hours and soak up the sunshine. Amen.

One Father's Day

2011-06-20T13:05:00.000-06:00

On Father's Day, Kevin woke up at 5:00 a.m. (or maybe earlier), to take over the fussy newborn. By 6:00, he was preparing cereal for the toddler. And when I woke up around 8:00, he was cuddling Colin while rocking Archer to sleep. At 9:00, he took Colin swimming, to give me a little bit of breathing room. At 11:00 he ran out to pick up lunch, because there wasn't any food in the house. At 1:00, he put Colin down for a nap and spent the next two hours cleaning up our flooded basement and running four loads of laundry, because we had neither clean clothes nor clean diapers in the house.

I don't really remember what happened the rest of the day--it was a bit of a blur--but somewhere in there he made dinner (shishkabob on the grill, in the pouring rain), kept Colin in smiles and giggles, and later persevered for over two hours to get that same child to sleep (final bedtime: 11:00 p.m.). He received neither gifts nor breakfast in bed nor a single moment to himself, but when I apologized for the lousy Father's Day as we finally fell asleep sometime after midnight, he said it hadn't been such a bad day. But he "coulda done without the flooded basement."

Happy Father's Day to the best father in the world!

Happy Birthday, Pops!

2011-06-18T23:26:00.000-06:00

Happy 66th Birthday--and Happy Father's Day, too--to my own wonderful father!

This Moment ...

2011-06-17T07:00:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

Our First Family Photo Shoot

2011-06-14T07:00:00.000-06:00

One of the things I did to prepare for Archer's arrival that I am most grateful for was scheduling a family photo for just after his birth. I care a lot about taking photos of our family, and I knew that after he was born I would be too tired and overwhelmed to capture those fleeting newborn moments. Also, as the only photographer in the family, I'm never in any of our "family photos."

Fortunately, I have a very talented colleague and friend who is a skill amateur photographer. So about two weeks after Archer was born, she came and spent the morning photographing us. It was her first family photo shoot, but I couldn't be more pleased with the results--especially since I know firsthand how difficult it is to take a nice photo of a toddler who always has his finger stuck up his nose.

More than a month has passed now since these photos were taken and already Archer bears little resemblance to that tiny babe. Last time we weighed him, he was already 10 pounds--a full two pounds heavier than his "big" brother had been at the same age. I know that life with young children is made up of these transitory stages, so I'm so glad to have a few mementoes of those halcyon days--all the more so since I was a little too tired to remember them for myself.

Here are a few highlights from the shoot, or check out the full slideshow. There's also a nifty little video she made at the bottom of this post.

This Past Weekend ...

2011-06-13T14:17:00.000-06:00

We went barefoot for the first time this year.

Even in places where we shouldn't.

Admired the world from new vantage points.

Invented new games, such as "fighting with sticks and leaves." Where *does* he get this?

And enjoyed a few moments of quiet relaxation.

At some point last Friday I started to make a list of all the things I needed to do this past weekend ... which I failed to finish. Perhaps this week I'll remember what was supposed to go on that list and maybe I'll finally "finish" it. Or maybe I'll just run around outside barefooted.

This Moment ...

2011-06-10T02:00:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

The many faces of Ian Archer

2011-06-08T23:19:00.000-06:00

There's nothing like sitting around and photographing a newborn for sheer entertainment value. I took these photos when Ian Archer was two days old and then promptly forgot about them (what with all the photographing I've been doing lately). But they really do capture his many expressions--especially the last one. The furrowed brow he gets from his mama--and, if I'm being honest, the double chins, too.

A Quilt for Ian Archer

2011-06-07T07:00:00.000-06:00

I had all these plans for crafting projects in the weeks before Ian Archer's birth, but even though he dilly-dallied for a week before making his grand appearance I didn't quite get around to finishing them all. OK, I only managed to finish one, but I did at least make pretty good headway on another: a baby quilt, which I was able to finish just after his birth when I was still riding my oxytocin high and not yet exhausted from sleepless nights with a newborn. (Although, to be fair, this babe has given us precious few of those. He's been wonderful.)

I only finished sewing his big brother's baby quilt around his first birthday, so I consider the fact that I was able to finish this one while Ian Archer was only 10 days old quite an accomplishment. Unfortunately, I can't say as much for my sewing. Again, I can't seem to sew a straight line to save my life, and I'm still not too keen on the fabric selection. I had wanted something very different from Colin's quilt--something colourful and vintage-looking. But since the Heather Ross fabric I had my heart set on over at Spoonflower was all sold out, and since I have no talent for choosing colours (I missed that course requirement for my art major), I left it up to the professionals and bought a quilt bundle from the talented folks over at Fabricworm.

And, oh, it was colourful all right. Maybe a little too colourful. For the first few days after I finished it, it sort of hurt my eyes. I guess I still prefer newborns to be swathed in pastels. But it does have the advantage of coordinating really well with the primary-colour/zoo-animal theme in the boys' room (not that Ian Archer spends any time in there just yet, he's still bunking-in with us). And aren't infants supposed to get a lot of healthy mental stimulation from busy patterns? Well, if so, he'll be plenty stimulated.

I do have it in the back of my head to try making another quilt, perhaps with a more simple pattern, and I've already got my eye on some beautiful fabric that's set to be released next month ...

Am I crazy? Probably, but feel free to send me your ideas for a new quilt pattern to try, though nothing on a log-cabin pattern, please. Even I'm not that crazy.

Weekending

2011-06-06T07:42:00.000-06:00

This weekend I treated myself new pillows and slipcovers to replace the ones stained by breast milk and spit up (and these are washable!),

I practised the new baby massage skills I learned from a class taught by this woman,

I enjoyed this new stage of imaginative role play ...

and enjoyed watching him share it with his little brother.

I loved that I could get a whole set of cute finger puppets for five dollars at Ikea ...

as well as a cool tunnel to entertain my energetic toddler.

And now I'm feeling prepared to face another week!

This Moment ...

2011-06-03T07:00:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

A Birthday Party for the New Kid

2011-05-31T07:00:00.000-06:00

It's hard to believe that Ian Archer is already three weeks old. Why, it seems like only yesterday we were celebrating his first birthday--his first day alive, that is. This may seem a little crazy (in fact, my own mother thought it insane at the time), but 24 hours after Ian Archer made his appearance, we threw him a little birthday party. It was nothing elaborate, I just threw up the birthday bunting and made carrot cupcakes, but it was a milestone I really wanted to celebrate, and thanks to an easy delivery, 24 hours later, I was already feeling up to celebrating.

I also wanted to do a little something to mark the occasion for Colin, who wasn't quite sure what to make of his new little brother at that point. But cupcakes and candles and "The Birthday Song," were all things Colin could understand. Oh, and presents. Our friends Craig and Rachel dropped by to see the baby and came bearing gifts: an adorable "Ian" puzzle, which Colin quickly appropriated. And I had even prepared a little gift for the new big brother: a home-made "surprise ball."

I'm not sure of the origins of suprise balls. My Aunt Matilda always gives them out at Christmas Eve dinner, and they're always a big hit with the kiddos. I made this surprise ball out of scraps from a recent quilting project (more on that tomorrow), and about $10 of little toys at the dollar store. Colin had a ball--no pun intended--unravelling it to find all the goodies. In fact, I think he might have thought the party was for him.

Weekending

2011-05-30T12:16:00.000-06:00

Unlike last weekend, this weekend we stuck closer to home and tried to catch up on all the chores we had neglected during the previous weekend's adventures: doing laundry, rearranging furniture, doing more laundry, gardening--and doing even more laundry. Turns out, trying to do any one of these things with two children in the house takes three times as long as with one child. Someone explain to me the math behind that.

Anyway, the trickiest part was the gardening. Our season here is so short that unless you get your garden planted by the May Long Weekend, you risk not having any harvest, and we were already a week behind. So all hands were needed in the fields--including Colin's. We thought we could interest him in picking up sticks and decapitating dandelions, but the only thing he wanted to do was use the push mower--and his father let him! "So what if he loses a couple of toes, if it keeps him occupied for half an hour"--was his defence. Needless to say, we gave up on "gardening as a family" after this.

Still, we had a few successes. The vegetables got planted before they wilted from neglect. The tomatoes did not get destroyed by last night's near-freezing temperatures. And we finally found a formula for getting Colin to go to bed without any fuss: We took him to the swimming pool for two hours in the morning and to the playground for two hours in the evening. Sadly, we never got both boys to sleep at the same time, so Kevin and I are as exhausted as ever. Any one know the magic formula for coordinating nap times?

This weekend I was loving:

My super-cute yard man, who mows and weeds and moves heavy things even though he hates gardening.

My impish two-year-old, even if he makes it a challenge to get both boys out of the house before noon.

Watching that two year old scale new mountains...

... then promptly falling asleep.

Waking up to the coos of Ian Archer and the birds outside my bedroom window--even if both start the day at 3:00 a.m.

This Moment ...

2011-05-27T11:56:00.000-06:00

{Joining with Soulemama to share a special moment from my week. A moment to pause, savor and remember.}

The May Long Weekend

2011-05-25T09:08:00.001-06:00

The Victoria Day Weekend--or "The May Long Weekend" as it is more commonly called--is the traditional start of Spring up here in the frozen North. The weather finally warms up to a balmy 70 degrees (20 C), and we can finally start planting out our gardens, grilling, and sitting out on the deck in the evenings with a tall cold one. It's a three-day weekend that everyone looks forward to--everyone, that is, except parents of young children. To us, a three-day weekend just means three whole days without childcare--and that can be a very long weekend, indeed. You can just think again if you think your toddler (or your newborn) is going to let you get any gardening done or even just sit down and relax with a tall cold one.

This past weekend, Kevin and I had one goal and one goal only: to keep Colin entertained while hopefully not exhausting ourselves. We watched movies, rode our tricycle dozens of times, and went on a picnic and outings to the bookstore, the flower nursery, and Fort Edmonton Park. All ended with us fleeing the scene with one--or both--children in tears. Outings for a family of four are proving to be much more difficult than for a family of three.

Our only real success this weekend was the trip to Fort Edmonton, where we just turn Colin loose for two-and-a-half hours. You want to run in the street? Sure, the choo-choo trains here generally stop for children. You want to skip lunch and eat chocolate chip cookies? Why not? You want to touch the horses, the chickens, the pigs and goats? You bet! You want to walk into strangers' houses and play with their toys? Mi casa es su casa. Turns out, the secret to success on an outing with a toddler is to find someplace where the word "no" doesn't exist for a few hours. I guess it's time we bought that Fort Edmonton family pass.

Scenes from our very long weekend:

Kevin pretends to enjoy our very windy picnic.

Colin doesn't even pretend--he just pouts under a chokecherry tree.

Our trip to the flower nursery ended when Colin pretended to be a "little worm" and started inching across the ground on his belly.

At least the tulips I planted last Fall were in bloom.

But at Fort Edmonton, Colin could ride the horse-drawn buggy ...

... and play with some other child's toys ...

... and pet the goats ...

... and chase the chickens.

And Ian Archer could enjoy it all from the comfort of his cozy sling. Thank God, for tiny blessings.

What did you do with your long weekend?

Our Homebirth Story

2011-05-18T12:49:00.000-06:00

I can't believe it's been nearly two weeks since Ian Archer made his much-longed-for appearance and I am only just now sitting down to write our birth story. Hopefully I have not forgotten too many of the details as the result of post-partum amnesia because it was certainly an experience I want to remember--pain and all--for the rest of my life.

The story of Ian/Archer's birth (we still haven't quite settled on what this little boy will be called), really began two days before his arrival, on Wednesday, May 4th. I was already six days overdue and getting anxious and impatient. Up until that point I had been pretty sanguine about waiting for nature to take its course. Every day the baby was late was just one more day I had to do crafts, putter about the house, and read novels. But by six days overdue I was anxious that if he put off his arrival much longer he would be a really big boy. Babies supposedly gain half a pound a week just before birth, and at four days overdue, Colin was already 7 pounds 14 ounces. I didn't relish the thought of an eight pounder. More importantly, I was eager to have this baby before my mom arrived in town on Thursday, as I hadn't told her about our plans to have a homebirth until a few days before, and she had not been at all enthusiastic about the idea.

As I laid all this out at my weekly appointment with my midwife, she became concerned: having someone present at a homebirth who is not comfortable with the idea is a recipe for disaster, she said. So, after some discussion, she agreed to sweep my membranes that day, and, if that didn't work, on the following day she'd give a naturopathic remedy to induce labour, a "cocktail" of lemon verbena, castor oil and apricot juice. As she was doing the sweeping, she felt the baby's head and noticed that, like his big brother before him, this baby was posterior--face up. This added to both our concerns because Colin's less-than-ideal position had caused me such painful back labour that I had begged for an epidural at only 5 centimetres. And, of course, at a homebirth, there would be no epidural. So, my midwife, Marie, sent me home with orders to practice my prenatal yoga poses to help turn the baby.

Thursday came and with it a few little contractions but still no baby. Kevin and I met Marie and our student midwife, Teylia, to do a mandatory non-stress test before she could give us the recipe for the induction. But before we left, Marie said I should really hold off on taking it until the next morning. "Go home, have a nice dinner with your mom, and then get a good night's sleep," she said, "and I think you'll be much better prepared for having this baby." Turns out, it was a very wise prescription, and I'm so glad I followed it, because that's exactly what happened.

We picked up my mom at the airport a few hours later, and once she got back to our house and saw the birth room--complete with bed, birthing tub, a sunny window, and a dozen pink roses, she said, "You know, I think this is probably a really good idea." I think her approval really set me at ease and helped this baby come on his own. That evening, we had a lovely dinner and I slipped off to my prenatal yoga class to do another hour and a half of cat/cow positions and pelvic swirls to help flip the baby. Then we all turned in early for a good night's sleep.

Marie, Teylia and Johanna enjoy a cup of tea after the birth.

Marie and Teylia weigh big boy Ian Archer: 8 pounds, 9 ounces!

Just a few hours later, at 2:00 a.m., I woke with my first good, strong contractions. I stayed in bed for the next hour counting them at about 7 minutes apart before I woke up Kevin, and then we went downstairs to start the day. I spent the next hour in the kitchen prepping food for after the birth until the contractions became about 3 minutes apart, at which point I called Teylia to give her the head's up that we'd be having a baby that day. Since the contractions weren't very strong, she suggested I lie down for a bit instead of wasting energy on kitchen chores. So I popped in the Hypnobirthing CDs I'd been practising with for the past several months, lay down on the couch, and prepared to work on my breathing until it became really necessary to call in the midwives.

This was simultaneous the best and the worst thing I could have done: best because I completely zoned out for the next two hours as I just sort of gave myself over to each contraction, and worst, because I only snapped out of it a when I felt the urge to push and I called out in a panic for someone to please call the midwives ASAP! Unfortunately, they lived 45 minutes away, so it was Teylia, the student midwife, who arrived first to find me completely dialated. Fortunately, she didn't tell me this or I might have panicked. Instead, she suggested I get into the birth tub if I felt like it.

Did I feel like it? It was heaven! Kevin had filled it up nice and hot, and as soon as I stepped inside I instantly felt the pain cut in half. And thank God, because at this point my water broke and I was soon deep in transition labour with the contractions coming every couple of minutes and requiring all of my concentration to breathe through the pain.

Ian Archer is handed to me just seconds after birth.

Minutes later we're resting on the bed.

One of the things that surprised me most about this labour was how much I wanted to be left alone to work through my contractions. I had thought that I would want people doing a lot of things to me and for me: massaging my back, telling me which positions would be most helpful, helping me to count through each contractions. In fact, that was what led me to seek out midwifery care in the first place: so I could have that continuous support. But nothing could have been further from my mind at the time. Other than asking Kevin to fetch me glass after glass of ice water, I just wanted to be left alone--I even complained about the midwives checking my dilation and the baby's heartbeat. I didn't want anyone touching me.

At some point during this transition Marie arrived, and I have never been so grateful to see someone's face. She told me that the baby was already crowning and that if I changed positions so that I was floating on my back (I had been folded over the side of the tub at this time), he would be out in no time.

Well, "no time" in midwife parlance is perhaps a little different than in labouring-mother parlance, but our birth record shows that I began pushing around 7:45 a.m. and Ian Archer was born at 8:10 a.m. Although it seemed like a long time at that moment, compared to the two-and-a-half hours I pushed with Colin--all to no avail--this was "no time," indeed. And despite the fact that I laboured completely without pain medication, this was still the easier--and gentler--of the two births. Kevin says that when Ian Archer's head finally emerged in the water--face down, just as he should be--he took a good, calm look around before deciding it was safe to come all the way out. And once he did, the midwives put him on my chest, where he rested gently for a few moments before taking his first big breath in the soft light of the new morning.

Ian Archer gets his first check-up.

Home was a great place to give birth.

In the past two weeks I've thought a lot about the whole experience, and as far as I'm concerned it couldn't have gone better. I spent so much time in the months leading up to the birth worrying about how I would manage the pain because I had been so ill-equipped to deal with the pain of Colin's birth. With Colin, when the contractions started coming on strong, I just wanted to flee from the pain. But with Ian Archer, I remained calm and relaxed throughout the whole process, breathing through each contraction, resting as much as possible between them, and when the pain became challenging and I started to scream, I switch my voice to a low moan which helped me conserve energy and keep my wits about me.

In retrospect, only the pushing had been truly painful and at the time I was not afraid of it, I only wanted to "push" through it. In fact, I didn't actively push at all--not as women do in the movies and not like the nurses and doctors coached me to push in the hospital--my body did it all on its own. I just went with it. It was a lot like riding a really big roller coaster, where pushing was just the highest peak: You can't escape it, you just hang on and try not to lose your lunch.

[At this point in our narrative, Kevin pops in to remind me that I was seriously screaming at this stage of labour: "Baby come down! Baby come down!" and "I need this baby out NOW! Marie, can't you just pull him out?!" To which I say, sure, but I'm the one telling this story, Honey.]

Although I'm sure the ease of this birth had a lot to do with the fact that it was my second labour and second labours are generally much, much easier than first labours, I give a lot of credit to the fact that I was able to deliver in the comfort of my own home and to Marie, who embodied the ideal of a midwife--or sagefemme ("wise woman") in French. From early on in my pregnancy she insisted I improve my diet and get better rest, so that I was in great shape for the rigors of labour, unlike before my first labour, where I worked right up through my due date and stayed up all night the night before Colin was born, cleaning the house. Then toward the end of my pregnancy, Marie coached me on how to get the baby into a good delivery position--something my obstetrician never mentioned prior to my delivery with Colin. (Coincidentally, Vicky over at Coffee and Milkies has an interesting theory about obstetricians and birth positions, which I think is dead on.)

Colin gets his first look at his baby brother, while Mama enjoys breakfast in bed.

Marie also showed great foresight in urging me to wait a day before taking the verbena cocktail. Although it is a natural remedy and much less strong that a medical induction like Cervadil or Pitocin, it is still hard on the system. The only mom in our midwifery care group who took it was violently ill for hours before going into labour, and I'm definitely glad I avoided that. So often we want to control every detail of our lives--even the the birth of our babies. Thanks to modern medicine, we can; however, when we do there are frequently unintended consequences, as I learned when giving birth to Colin.

This time around, I wanted a truly natural birth and that's what I got from start to finish, in just six hours. I'm still amazed that my body could do all that all on its own, so long as I got out of its way. I'm also awed by the results. Within minutes of giving birth, I had delivered the placenta and was on the bed in the birthing room nursing my baby, who was in perfect shape save for some minor bruising on his face, which cleared up in a day or two. Within two hours of giving birth, I was stitched up, showered, and in my own sunshine-y bedroom where Ian Archer and I napped for the next several hours, uninterrupted by nurses and hospital roommates.

And although I did suffer the same degree of tearing I did while giving birth to Colin, my recovery has been so much easier. A few days after Ian Archer's birth, I was walking to the park with both my boys, and, now, 12 days out, I feel completely healed up, unlike the weeks and months it took me to heal after Colin. More importantly, I felt like myself the entire time, not the drugged up, zoned-out person I was in the days after having Colin, and I think this has made me a much better new mother--to both my boys.

In short, giving birth at home with a midwife was one of the most incredible experiences of my life and something I would recommend to anyone planning on having a baby. I will definitely be doing it again ... just not right away ;)

My Mother's Day

2011-05-16T10:25:00.000-06:00

Yes, I know Mothers' Day was last weekend (even up here in Canada we observe it the first weekend in May), but you'll forgive me if I was not quite up to blogging two days after having a baby. Although it was an "easy" labour, it was still labour. So on Sunday, after my oxytocin rush wore off, I decided to spend the entire day in bed, which is exactly where every mother ought to get to spend her annual holiday.

I was only able to do this, though, because my own mother was in town for the week and was doing the laundry, making the meals, walking the dog, entertaining the toddler, cleaning up the garden for spring, and fetching me things every half hour. So, alas, there was no break for her on Mothers' Day, but I hope she felt it was a day well spent nonetheless. I know I could not have been more grateful to share the day with her.

For the past two years I've had a little tradition on this blog for posting a Mothers' Day portrait, but I'm afraid I didn't quite manage one this year. I've not yet figured out how to orchestrate a photoshoot that involves two babies, neither of whom is crying, and a mama who isn't showing double chins. Instead, I'm leaving it to the professionals, and next weekend I have a friend coming to photograph the family.

So in the absence of my own portrait, I thought I'd post some portraits of my own mother on Mothers' Day: Here's to the incomparable Marianne. Please come back soon!

A Little Announcement ...

2011-05-08T20:05:00.000-06:00

Ian Archer Beach was born at home on Friday, May 6, at 8:10 a.m., weighing 8 pounds, 9 ounces.

Our big baby boy was born in the beautiful morning sunshine with the help of his father and our lovely midwives, and his big brother and grandmother got to be there for his arrival we well.

We are all doing wonderfully and love being at home with our new family of four (Four!).

Preparing (Colin) for Baby

2011-05-02T07:51:00.001-06:00

Just as important as preparing for the arrival of our new baby has been preparing Colin for his arrival. For Christmas we got him his own little baby--"Baby Beaux," we call him--to show him what a little baby is like. We change Baby Beaux's diaper, we rock him to sleep, we swaddle him and dress him in hats and bibs. At first Colin was a little rough with Baby Beaux: throwing him to the ground when he was done playing or dragging him around by one arm--typical toddler behaviour. But slowly we've taught him that Baby Beaux, like the cat, has to be handled gently. And so far, this seems to have worked. The ladies at Colin's day care tell us that Colin is very gentle with all the dolls there and seems to really like being sweet to them.

Along with Baby Beaux, we got Colin a wonderful book about welcoming a new baby into the family, There's Going to be a Baby, by one of my favourite children's book illustrators, Helen Oxenbury. In it, a mother explains to her little boy about the baby that's on its way and tries to quiet the boy's rather elaborate fears about how the baby will change their lives. It's a little mature for Colin, but he likes it nonetheless--mainly for the outlandish ideas the boy has about the kind of trouble the new baby will bring: will he make a mess in the kitchen, cover the living room in paint, become a zookeeper? It's charming.

Despite all of these preparations, I don't think Colin has any idea that there is about to be an addition to our family. Sure, he understands that women with big bellies "have a baby in there," as he explains. (And thank goodness, there have been no unfortunate misunderstandings about this with strangers in public!) And when I show him my belly when the baby is kicking, he gets excited and giggles. But he just as quickly forgets and tries clamouring over me or worse--last week while I was lying on the couch, he jumped on me foot first (ouch!).

The biggest challenge so far has been ridding Colin of some of his own baby-ish behaviour, especially his desire to be carried everywhere. I suppose we've enabled this up until now because he is so very small for his age--only about 25 pounds-- that it was just easier to carry him places. But I am at the point where I cannot support him for long periods of time, and pretty soon there will be another baby that needs to be carried. Unfortunately, when we tell Colin he has to walk or ride in his stroller he has the most terrible meltdowns that hijack all of our plans, so often we have to carry him (screaming) out of the store or library or park anyway.

Lately, we've also had some trouble getting Colin to sleep in his own bed. Since his second birthday, he's been sleeping on a little trundle bed in his room, and we've just used his crib for time-outs. At first, this worked amazingly well. Because we could lie down next to him, he fell asleep quickly and would sleep through the night. But recently he's started concocting elaborate stratagems to stay up later: more bedtime stories, another glass of milk, fits of giggles. This can stretch out bedtime for an hour or two! And who has that kind of time?

Then, some nights, he wakes up in the middle of the night and comes and crawls in our bed, which would be fine, except that in a few days we'll be sharing our bed with a newborn, and a queen-sized bed is simply not big enough for two grown adults, a newborn, and a toddler who kicks!

Everyone tells me that once a new baby enters a house the older kids tend to mature very quickly on their own, even if they are almost babies themselves. I certainly hope so, because Colin is going to need to do a lot of maturing--fast.

What are you strategies for getting toddlers to "grow up" once there is a new baby in the house?

Preparing for Baby

2011-04-28T08:38:00.001-06:00

With just a day to go until this baby is due, I've been feverishly trying to get everything "prepared." Of course, I know that where babies are concerned you can't prepare for everything. (And I know, having done this before, that babies rarely arrive on time.) But there were a few little things I definitely wanted to have in place well before his arrival.

The first was his sleeping arrangements. Although eventually this baby will be sharing a room with his big brother, for now he'll be sleeping in our room. Colin slept in the bed with us for most of his infancy (it was just easier for me to nurse him and sleep that way), so I imagine this baby will, too. But there's also a little bassinet by my bed where he can sleep if I need to get some serious shut-eye. And there's a crib for him in the "boys' room" once he's ready for it. But right now it's still in use: it's where Colin takes his frequent time-outs.

I've also set up a baby changing station on my dresser with everything I'll need and nothing I won't: changing pad, cloth diapers and covers, diaper pail and "Boudreau's Butt Paste"--I love this stuff, it smells like cloves! When Colin was born, his well-appointed changing table held a small arsenal of creams and medicines and devices--none of which I ever needed. And it was all stored in the "nursery," so I had to trip down the hall every time he needed to be changed. The most important thing about this set up, is that it's all within two feet of my bed, so I won't have to travel very far for all those middle-of-the-night diaper changes.

I also stocked up on summer-weight swaddling clothes for my "summer" baby. It may only be in the single digits outside (that's Celsius), but its still too warm for all those heavy flannel blankets I used with Colin, my mid-winter boy. I found these wonderful muslin swaddlers from Aden + Anais. They were a little pricey, but I learned from experience that you can never have enough swaddlers. My fussy little boy could only get to sleep when he was wrapped up as tightly as he had been in the womb. (Oh, and while digging through the attic recently, I stumbled upon this adorable moon-faced nightlight, which I bought fifteen years ago--and yes, I bought it with a nursery in mind.)

And last but not least: the baby clothes. This was not so much a "need" as a "desire." We already have plenty of baby-boy clothes from Colin that I didn't really need to buy this boy anything. But I wanted to. I never actually bought infant clothes for Colin. We were so broke when we were expecting him that I couldn't afford to buy him so much as a onesie; all of our money was going toward more expensive things like carseats and cribs and strollers. Luckily, we had several friends with little boys who gave us all of their cute hand-me-downs. And, of course, we got some lovely gifts from friends and family.

But I actually like shopping for baby clothes, and so with a little extra money to spend this time around, I treated myself--I mean, the baby--to a new wardrobe. We'll still be using most of Colin's baby things, but I wanted something different--a brighter colour palette for my summer boy and a few footless outfits so I can kiss those tiny baby toes whenever I want.

So, now that I have everything "ready," this baby can come at any time. Seriously, you can come any time now...

A Baby Book for my Big Boy

2011-04-26T08:05:00.001-06:00

This project has been over a year in the making, or rather, in the planning. It was started as a first birthday gift for Colin, and then languished in my sewing box for the next year and a half. It's only now, when I've been on maternity leave for a week and still have Colin in day care full time, that I've been able to finish it. And it's been the perfect little project to put me in the right headspace for having another baby. I mean, who wouldn't want to have another baby after looking at those chubby baby cheeks and that single dimple for hours at a time?!

The pattern comes from Amy Butler's wonderful book, Little Stitches for Little Ones, although I made a few modifications of my own: such as the last-minute felt and embroidery on the cover. The fabric is "My Happy Garden" from Cloud9 Fabrics, with some Japanese import fabric for the cover--which happened to match the "mushroom" motif perfectly. (You might remember my crazy obsession with mushrooms from last year.) However, all the fabrics were just remnants from Colin's baby quilt, which I *did* finish in time for his first birthday.

Although it may look a little complicated, the only tricky part was editing and printing the photos to scale on the photo fabric (and at $5 an sheet, it was also the most expensive part of the project). But Colin gets such a kick out of seeing pictures of himself and those he knows that I knew it would be worth it. I started this little photo album so that, from his infancy, he would be familiar with everyone in our family--even though they may live thousands of miles away. But now that he is a toddler, and has seen everyone many times and talks to them all regularly on Skype, he's the one telling us about all the people in the photos: his Mae Mae and Pops, his Nan and Grampa, Mama and Daddy, and uncle Stark.

He's also started telling us little stories about the people in the pictures: "Mae Mae has a big hat, but here she has no hat. Why?" or "That's a happy Mama and happy Daddy and happy Colin, and all wear stripes." My favourite story is: "That baby in the crib wants his mama to pick him up." So far the book has been a wonderful insight into that growing little brain of his--something that was definitely worth the wait.

At 30

2011-04-24T19:00:00.000-06:00

Today was my thirtieth birthday, and it was a happy birthday, indeed. (And, thank you, everyone for the birthday well-wishes. I felt truly blessed!). Kevin took me out to my favourite restaurant, which happens to serve a wonderful non-alcoholic beer. And Colin presented me with a birthday card and flowers that he picked all all by himself ... after his daddy walked him over to the grocery store--a very big adventure for such a little boy.

All in all, it was a simple--and simply wonderful--birthday.

I know that's not the birthday most 30-year-old women have in mind. I think the standard thing is a wild night on the town with one's girlfriends, maybe a trip to Vegas or New York. And don't get me wrong, that all sounds wonderful, but I'm just not at a stage in my life right now where that is possible. (Maybe 35, girls? Or 40 at least ... )

I suppose such elaborate thirtieth-birthday celebrations are the norm because 30 is supposedly a "big" birthday for a woman: she's no longer some nubile young thing but a mature woman, perhaps a little past her prime. (Although why this should be true in the 21st century--when we all enjoy an extra decade of adolescence--beats me.) And for a lot of people, one's thirtieth birthday forces them to take stock of what they've done with their lives, so a whirlwind party can be a way to avoid such reflection or else a consolation if they are forced to confront things and find the balance wanting.

This may sound smug, but I only mean to express my gratitude: When I consider 20s, I am completely content with how they played out. I graduated from college, started a satisfying career, enjoyed some freewheeling years in a great city, lived abroad, married the man I love, and had a beautiful child (almost two of them!). I might not have done everything I wanted to do, but I did most of it, and I had a great time doing it. If my 30s are half as as much fun, I will be very lucky, indeed.

As a synchronistic end to my lovely birthday, Kevin took the above photo of me just before we headed out for my celebratory dinner. It happens to look very much like a photo he took of me on my 26th birthday, when we were vacationing in the south of France. Other than the fact that I am wearing the same damn blouse in both photos, I don't find the comparison too unflattering. Sure, Edmonton doesn't quite compare with France, and, yes, I currently weigh about 40 pounds more than I did then, but those things are just temporary, right? I hope that by my 32nd birthday I'll have lost the baby weight and we will again be traveling abroad without children. And I sincerely hope that by then I've bought some new clothes!

A Little Easter Crafting

2011-04-23T08:01:00.000-06:00

I was really excited that Colin would finally be old enough this this year to hunt Easter Eggs. What I was less excited about was the mess of hard-boiling and dying the eggs and then having Colin break them or worse--the dog eat them! (Also, our eggs cost $5.00 a dozen, so I was less than excited about sacrificing them, even for one of my favourite holidays.)

Instead, I hit upon the idea of painting Easter Eggs! The craft store sells wooden eggs, and given my aesthetic prejudice against all things plastic, I couldn't resist. Also, this way we can use the same eggs year after year. Just spray them with Kilz and you have a fresh canvas whenever you want. So last weekend, we all sat down as a family and painted our Easter Eggs--even Colin. (Can you guess which ones he painted?)

The best part is that we've been able to hunt Easter Eggs all week in the comfort of our living room--and it's a good thing, too, since there's still quite a bit of snow on the ground outside!

A Midwife Story: Part 2

2011-04-21T07:00:00.000-06:00

The first thing I did when I walked into my appointment with my midwife today was test my own protein and glucose levels (negative, negative). Then I measured my blood pressure (109/69) and weighed myself (162), just as I've been doing at every visit for the past several months. Although it was tricky to figure out at first--especially the blood pressure monitor--I like that I'm taking responsibility for my own care, whereas at the doctor's office everything was done to me as if I were some child taking her medicine.

Next, I lay myself down on my midwife's big leather couch between the fluffy Ikea pillows, so she could measure my baby, feel around for his positioning, and listen to his heart rate on a small fetal monitor. Then we get to talking.

As at most of our visits, we spent a lot of time today talking about my diet. I think I eat pretty well, but midwives, I have learned, have a higher standard. "Eating right is the No. #1 thing you can do to ensure a healthy baby and a smooth delivery," she is fond of saying. So for the past few months, I have slowly cut back on chocolate and sweets and upped my protein intake. I've even learned to add a lot of legumes and dark green vegetables to my diet. And do I feel remarkably better. This all seems pretty obvious, I know, but it surprises me how my diet was never a part of any discussion with my obstetrician.

Finally, we start talking about The Birth. In the past few weeks the bulk of my discussions with my midwife have focused on my first labour experience and my fears about this labour and how to overcome those. Mostly we talk about pain management techniques, but often she'll just look me in the eye, hold my hand, and say something completely comforting and encouraging. We even call each other by our first names.

On alternate visits, I see my midwife as part of a group of women who are all expecting babies in the same month. These meetings last longer--up to two hours--and I only spend about 10 minutes with my midwife privately. At first, I thought these meetings might be tedious and a waste of time. After all, I have to drive about half an hour outside of the city to reach her office, so such visits eat up half of my working day. But now, I have come to really relish the chance meet other moms-to-be and talk about our shared hopes and experiences. Our discussions, which are thoughtfully moderated by the midwife, have focused on labour and recovery, nutrition, breast-feeding, newborn sleep habits (or lack thereof), sexuality, and the nitty gritty of managing day-to-day life with a newborn.

Of the seven women in my group, two are first-time mothers, four are second-time mothers, and one is a third-time mother. Of the "old mothers," I am the only one who has been to an obstetrician before; the others all used midwives. I love hearing about how these mothers managed drug-free deliveries with their first babies and what techniques they found most helpful for dealing with the pain. I take special comfort in the story of one mother who had a long first labour like I did, as well as back labour, but still managed to push out her daughter without drugs or other interventions. If the midwives could help her do it, I could do it, too, I tell myself.

I've also really enjoyed getting to know the two first-time moms in the group. Although they don't have as much to offer to the conversation by way of experience, they bring their fears to the group and we all talk about them, mostly reassuring them that it's not as bad as they think it will be. And I, for one, am convinced of that. I know these first-time moms are in the best hands--and much better prepared than I was when I was about to have Colin. In fact, they occasionally have a thing or two to teach me. As I'm readying myself for the job ahead, I've loved getting email updates every few days about another mother in our group who has just had a successful delivery. And it's been nice to look back over my own path as a mother and remind myself that whatever challenges this child may bring, I'll be better equipped that I was last time.

But does any of this guarantee me a better birth experience the second time around? No. I know that no matter what I do, every birth carries with it a huge element of chance. There could be complications and my midwife could have to rush me to the emergency room. Or, for all of my preparation, I might still be unable to cope with the pain. But, I take comfort in knowing that this time around I've prepared myself as best as I could, and so far the experience has been all I hoped it would be.