Escape Artist

Walking with Pilot

Halloween Party at School

Team Toddler Dinners

We've learned that feeding toddlers after a long day at work and
daycare is best achieved in a group to avoid tantrums and flying food.
It really does take a village.... to raise a toddler at least.

Toddlers are so much fun!

Toronto Fashion Week

I have a new respect for fashion designers. I've always fancied myself somewhat handy around a sewing machine - at least since my days in Home Ec back in grade 9. Isn't it like a riding a bike? Can't just pick it  up again 15 years later? So what the hell is a bobbin? Ahhh, thank you google.

I broke out the machine while on parental leave. I had grand plans of making stuffed friends, bloomers and maybe some cool outfits. Armed with some newly purchased thread, pins and elastic with a library book of cool kiddie projects under my arm I dusted off the vintage machine donated by our great-grandmother. One tag-blankie later and the machine was returned to the bottom of a basement "storage system"/pile of stuff in the corner.

Well it's time to unearth it again. Hallowe'en is fast approaching and after weeks of procrastination the little man's costume needs to get finished this weekend. He's napping now so you think this would be the ideal time to start. Instead I'm procrastinating on the interweb.

The plan is to make him a lion costume.

Updates (including photos) to come!

Swimming fun!

This summer we learned that the little man loves the water. At his Gia-Gia's house in Edmonton he loved going for a dip twice a day. So this fall we signed him up for lessons at the local pool. It's perfect. For half an hour every Sunday morning we suit up and hop.

He loves it.

All except for the backfloats, but we'll get there.

Days of Defiance

I've postponed this post. Originally it was simply "A Day of Defiance". Unfortunately, the details have spread, like some sort of black plague or bedbug hysteria, across the rest of the week. It seems that the wee man has learned the power of the tantrum. His parents (yup, I'm one of them), however, still haven't quite figured things out.

There is no worse sound that your little one wailing. You want to not only to stop the heart-rending sound, you want to address the root problem, you need to alleviate the concern. It's not enough to comfort - you need to FIX. The difficulty, I'm slowly grasping, is when there is nothing to fix. Fulfilling strange whims at ungodly hours doesn't necessarily equal fix.

To boil it down: is he really in pain/in need or does he just want something?

I fear the former are decreasing and the latter increasing.  On the plus, he's not genuinely hurt which is good, but on the downside it's getting hard to tell when he actually needs help.

What he wants is to watch videos. Specifically the video we shot at the zoo a couple of weeks ago. OK, so he loves the animals. But up screaming to see them and himself on the computer at 4am isn't really reasonable, not that I'm trying to reason with an 18-month old. Not only would it be better for him to get his much-needed rest, it would definitely be better for his parents. Those same parents that have to go to work later that morning and don't have the luxury of a three hour nap. Although the space under my desk is looking increasingly appealing.

If I can't nap, at least I can google "emotional blackmail". . .

Seasonal Decor

Fall is here. It's dark before 7pm, the leaves have turned and we've switched the furnace on. Hallowe'en is just around the corner. Work is underway on costumes and turning the front yard into a fearsome festival of fright.

Inside things are a bit different. In days of old you might have found a seasonal display of autumnal vegetables (strangely shaped gourds, dried coloured ears of corn, the odd mini-pumpkin) or a centrepiece of brightly coloured leaves. Well, not really. I've never been much of a Martha Stewart. But last night as we had a nice family dinner I couldn't help and notice that amongst the wreckage of mismatched placemats, chunks of escaped foodstuffs and discarded bibs was a diaper. Smack in the centre of the table.  It was a nice and fresh one, but still there it was.  A diaper.

So if you're coming over for dinner, you've been warned.

Space and Time

As an adult, I am fairly used to things being measured in days. You go on a trip for 10 days. It's a few days before the weekend. Today I had a bad day. Usually things hold for the whole of the day.  Something my son has taught me is that there are no absolutes and they definitely are not affixed to the arbitrary unit of a day.

Today - perfect example. It started off pretty much as a train wreck. Up in the middle of the night. Up early.

Fought breakfast.

Cried on the walk to music class.

Cried through music class.

Cried on the walk home.

But then, after nap, we pushed through and made it to the Science Centre, and then everything was right in the world.

What Goes In Must Come Out

Since we started solid food about a year ago, the wee has always been a pretty good eater. He enjoys scarfing back all sorts of delicacies - from parma ham to aged cheeses, Belgian chocolates to wild fresh caught salmon, used kleenex carefully liberated from waste containers and muddy coarse sand that normally inhabits the playground.

Often his daily daycare report comes back with word of two servings or more at every meal and snack time. A surreptitious flip through the clipboard and his classmates are only pushing a measly one and a half. Of late, however, at home, his cooperation in mealtimes has been somewhat lacking. Moments after the Mediterranean seafood medley or dry-cured AAA Alberta steak has landed on his placemat it hits the floor, walls and ceiling. I know he really likes to help clean up, but I'm not convinced of the current method. It's getting hard to tell what colour the drapes used to be let alone how much he has actually eaten.

But changing his diaper last night I can guarantee that he ate his asparagus.