Quiet Time

It only happens once in a while, but sometimes the boys do enjoy a bit of quiet time.

Now to teach them to sleep in on Saturdays . . .

Losing Them in the Woods

The boys are getting to an age where we are starting to engage in more independent activities. We still have family outings, but the little guys are starting to develop their own activities and interests. Apart from playing chauffeur more often, this often means that I'm ferrying one around while supermom is dealing with the other.

As they grow, we're are also noticing that it's getting a bit more crowded in our "cozy" house. On top of each other with energy to burn, lounging around the house on a Saturday just doesn't work anymore. So we get them out and doing stuff. Whether we are up to it or not. This is easier in the summer where only a water bottle and sunscreen replace the boots, snowpants, touques, mitts, jackets, long undies, neck warmers . . . but it's still not easy.

Often I offer the most resistance, wishing by some miracle that I might find myself dozing between the sheets or have time to slowly sip my coffee while perusing a thick, weekend edition newspaper. Supermom often has the brain wave, and, once finally out and about, I begrudingly have to admit she was right. Again.

Sometimes, if I'm really brave or really owe her one, I'll take both boys on one these excursions solo. This has definitely gotten more frequent as #MaxLoco has grown from toddler to pre-schooler. At least now he'll listen to about half of what I say before he ignores it.

The watershed moment was last fall. One of my wife's best friends in the whole world (friends since childhood, roomates after university, you know the kind) was getting married. The ceremony was at a beautiful fishing resort, over 4,000kms away, on Vancouver Island. Her sister was going too. So my brother-in-law and I had a plan. We'd spend the weekend with the bulk of the boys up at the cottage.

Packing up was easy and we each hit the road from our respective ends of the city. Leaving the skyline behind, I noticed a dark line cutting across the horizon. Ominously dark. Unfortunately the boys are too young to grasp my Mordor references. Then we were into it. Blackness cut by sheet lighting while furious thunderclaps shook the car. The rain was punding on the roof so violently it almost drowned out the little one's shrieks of terror. I had troubles of my own, whiteknuckling the car through quickly deepening lake that used to be a highway.

Eventually the storm subsided and we pressed on, finally arriving at a dark cottage road. The high beams quickly picked up the branches, splinters and detritus littering the narrow track. Broken trees lined the lane, snapped like matchsticks. As we crested the hill I could see an entire tree dangling over the road, held up only by the power line. So much for electricity. My brother in law arrived about five minutes later and we made the trek down to the lakefront together. It was evident the power was out. In the darkness we could make out that a another tree had come down, a massive oak, but thankfully six inches to the west of the cottage.

We made sure there were no immediate hazards (trees about to crush the cottage, rabid black bears, a sufficient supply of cold beers), and, with a roof over our heads, decided to revisit things in the morning. It was pretty obvious that we'd be turning around and heading back to the city. We got the boys settled and hunkered down.

The next morning was beautiful. The lake was silent. Otherworldly silent. Still no power. Our thinking then quickly proceeded along these lines:

• decide to go home
• decide the weather is actually pretty nice
• decide to buy a chainsaw
• decide that we can in fact stick it out

So we did. The power came back, for a bit. Just enough to flush the loo a couple of times. Perfect. As darkness fell, we knew we had made the right decision. So we pushed it one further:

• decide, with the boys tucked tightly into bed, to rewards selves with beer at the firepit. Did I mention the firepit is up a steep path on top of a hill, some distance away from the cottage?

Upon reflection, it made have been prudent to lash the little ones to their beds, or at least lock the cottage door. Up at the firepit, a few beers and quite a few logs later, I thought I heard a whimpering, so I trekked back down to the cottage. In my haste I tripped over a shoe. How did that get there? The youngest was bawling.

Oops.

It didn't take long to settle him down, but campfire time was over. I could see the others still in their beds. Relief. All were safe and sound. My brother-in-law came back down too to see what was up. It was only then that the eldest came bounding through the screen door. Turns out he had gone looking for us. For some time. In the dark. With only one shoe. We didn't put that detail together until the next morning.

All in all it was a great weekend. The boys had a blast, despite storms (turns out there had been a tornado on the lake) and nightime shennanigans.

On the way back to the city, we thought it best to gloss over some of the details of the second night when telling our wives about the weekend. That didn't last long. Those little rats chatterboxes will get you every time.

A Land of LEGO?

We are big LEGO fans. We've been building Duplo and LEGO for years. I loved it as a kid and now my boys love it.


Oh yes, I still love it too.


Our house is filled with those multicoloured bricks and the limitless creations built out of them. Sure I curse when I step on one, but it's a small price to pay.



Recently we had the opportunity to visit the LEGOland Discovery Centre in Toronto. We had a great time.

We trained like LEGO ninjas in the Ninjago exhibit. We built race cars, and raced them down ramps. We played in the playground with giant foam bricks and danced with the LEGO Friends. It was a nice balance for two very different boys of different ages.

Kai & Ollie

The big guy was thrilled to be able to trade some of his minifigures having recently gotten five of the same character in the most recent minifigure series (what are the odds of that?!).

The staff were great. They loved the LEGO as much as the kids and were quick to share their excitement. There is a good variety of activities. The cafe could be improved - there's not much beyond pizza and sandwhiches, but you're not their for the food.

And of course you have run the gauntlet of the retail store as you exit, but to be expected. They do have a great selection of LEGO products.

Aliens!

The big guy was keen to attend the Master Builder Academy. He clearly views this as a trial run for his post-secondary endaevours given how his current career of choice is Master Builder. In the Academy we built our very own aliens.

Concentration of a Master Builder

We had such a good time that when it came time to ask the big guy what he wanted to do for his brithday the answer was easy: LEGOland!

Did I mention? 

Everything is Awesome!

Disclosure: LEGOland provided complimentary admission

Time for a Trim

Short-long. Hockey-hair. Mullet.

 It had to be removed. The rats nest MaxLoco's hair needed to be tamed. While his old do fits his personality, it was time to reduce the impression that he is neglected. Between his curls and his body-rocking, his dreads were becoming more or less permanent.

Despite his skepticism (see photo evidence right), the haircuts went well. The big one is thrilled by his style, but it's tough as a parent - they always end up looking older. Cute, but older. Enjoy it boys, before it falls out.

Now if only I can find time to squeeze in a cut for myself.

Happy Birthday Max Loco!

You're two already big guy! Happy birthday you rockin' dude.

Catch the Fever #tbt

Supporting England two years ago for Euro 2012. #TBT Will we do any better in Brazil this year?

Happy St. Patrick's Day

From our family to yours!

Carving out the memories

This past weekend we were once again up at Blue Mountain carving up the slopes. The big guy was in lessons while the little man was in daycare. That meant there was even some mommy and daddy time. What? Time alone, together, as husband and wife, during the day? We may have entered the twilight zone. But I'm happy to stay here . . . even with the creepy music.

Although we didn't get #MaxLoco onto the hill, if we get up again this season we will have to let him hit the slopes. He is pretty darn jealous that he is the only one not up on skis. He is only 21 months old, but this sort of logic is lost on his kinetic toddler brain. Looks like I'll have to find a helmet this week. And a leash. The way that kid approaches in life in general, it's a wonder I don't have these tools already.

Another critical parental lesson learned this weekend, is leave the instruction to the professionals. I may Rockies and all), but when it comes to teaching my kids, I'm lousy. It's a combination of frustration, pain (backwards snowplow hurts like hell for the out of shape thirty-something I am), and the simple fact that my kids don't really listen to me. Truth is I can't compete with the awe inspiring much hipper, and younger, authority figure of the ski instructor. Anyway, that's what I'll continue to tell myself. Oh, and that pesky rope tow? Mastered. It helps when I'm not running him over.
be a pretty decent skier (grew up near the

Now where's that Apres Ski?

Creations

This kid's creations blow our minds.

Emerging Vocabulary

The big one has always talked our ear off. With each new discovery we are regaled with tales of awe and wonder. It is pretty cool.

And now the pumpkin man is starting to follow in his brother's footsteps as he harnesses the power of speech. So far he only has two words: "Ba", which means "more", and "Da da da da" which essentially translates as "let's party".

I can see college now . . .

You gotta fight for your right

The end is nigh.

Maybe not the end of days, but the end of parental leave and the end of daddy daycare. The Pumpkin Man is in daycare transition this week, starting full time on Monday.

Good thing he has an older brother who has taught him the ways of the big, bad world. One of the Pumpkin Man's first daycare experiences was mealtime. He was sat at the table and handed his small chunks formerly known as food. Out of nowhere another baby sidled in and starting swiping his eats. His first reaction was to cry, but the daycare workers were too busy with other children. Quickly realizing his protest was in vain he swiftly implemented Plan B. As the other baby went for another handful, the Pumpkin Man poked her in the eye.

I'm not really worried about his transition.

Almost a year

Today the pumpkin man is eleven months old. Almost a year. The time flies by and so do the milestones.

I'm not entirely sure I'm happy that he's now able to pull to standing - only a few days before vacation. At least we're keeping things interesting.

Some days are like that

Even on parental leave.

Stages

Being an at home parent means going through all of the different stages:

From sleeping on the floor in various pretzel shapes, to the pain and torment of the inability to stick with one task, to newfound mobility often resulting in accident and personal injury.

And then there are the things the kid goes through.

Fashion sense

At first I didn't really see the utility of shorts on the baby. Now I see their immeasurable value as a diaper containment device.

Super smiles

He's a happy kid, especially now that he is mobile

Kindred Spirits

Proud Parent - Moment MXXI