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campfire

Because why go camping when you don't have to? I'm not really a huge camper. I like beds with real sheets on them. I like toilets that flush. I care for electricity a great deal and I'm not a big fan of bug bites. So camping is not way up there on my list. I know, I know we camped A LOT when I was a little kid and I LOVED it then, but I'll tell you what, camping as a child and camping as a mom are very, very different. I don't even think I need to outline the differences here for you all, I just pretty much have to say one thing: workload. 

So at this point in our lives, when there are still diapers and little people who cannot swim, I'm in no rush to camp. However, there are some really fun aspects of the camping experience that I know the Little Dude will just love, and I did not feel the need to deprive him of any longer. So this past weekend, we did not pack up a tent and trailer and sleeping bags and bear proof coolers and sunscreen and bug spray and drive for several hours and then get everything dirty and drive it all home again and spend three days getting everything clean again (a process usually known as "camping"). But what we did do was have a campfire.

We invited the Grandparents over to help us out, and got a nice fire set up in our back yard. 

Everyone was really interested in the whole process, including the baby (who is already in his p.j's and all ready for bed after he's had a chance to see a little bit of that fire action).

He even chose a special friend out of the firewood pile.

A little "log buddy" just the right size for toting all around the yard with him. Hubs and I could not help but sing "It's lo-og, its lo-og, its big, its heavy, its wood! It's lo-og, its lo-og, its better than bad, its good!" a la Ren and Stimpey.

We soon had our fire up and running.

And the kids were all up and running too! Look at GranGran's awesome baby monitoring technique. Nobody is falling down with a log in their arms on her watch. No sir!

And of course, fire is nice and interesting and all, but the most important reason to have a campfire should be obvious. 

And that reason is MARSHMALLOWS! That's why Hubs was chopping us some nice green sticks in the picture above. So we can roast some marshmallows. 

This was the Little Dude's first experience with marshmallows too, and to say he was enthusiastic about it would be a bit of an understatement. 

Being allowed to poke a stick in the fire is awesome to begin with, but topping that stick with a gooey chunk of sugary goodness... heaven!

Grandpapa has honed his technique down to an art form. Look at those perfectly roasted marshmallows!

It took a little bit on convincing to get the Little Dude to roast his marshmallows before eating them (he really, really liked them plain too), but eventually he was willing to try. 

We turned our backs for a moment and even the Baby managed to get his little paws into the bag and have himself a snack. We only let him have one bite (because really, a baby does not need that much sugar) and then it was time to pack him off to bed. 

As it got darker, we all worked on our roasting methods. Hubs found L.D. a nice pronged stick, so that the long wait for roasted marshmallows was rewarded with twice the treat. 

With a little parental guidance, he was getting the hang of roasting them.

And he needed no help at all with the eating part.

He was a natural when it came to that.

Stickey gooey loveliness.

After eating marshmallows, his second favourite thing was staying up late until it was dark. Because then he got to use the little flashlight. I'm telling you, this kid LOVES flashlights. It was so much fun to whirl it all around and see the light beam slicing through the smoke in the darkened sky above the campfire.

I did a little mucking around with my camera and with a longer shutter speed, got these fun shots. 

Even with the low light and the blurring you can still see he was having the time of his life. Its a wonder we got him to sleep that night at all, after all that fun and all that sugar (the whole bag of marshmallows was gone by the end of the night, though there were eight people to help with the eating). And he did sleep late the next morning, even if only by a half an hour. All in all, it was a very good first campfire experience. 

 

 

fireworks!

There were a lot of exciting first's for the Little Dude this weekend, with each day bringing some sort of celebratory fun. And last night was no exception, as we had our first fireworks. Well, not really our first. A couple of years ago we shot off a few Roman candles in the back yard and he did NOT like it. There were tears. But its been a few years since then, and we figured this year might be a good year for fireworks. So my Dad went and bought a bunch and we called some friends to come over and as evening fell over the back yard we got out some lawn chairs and blankets and hunkered down to enjoy bright lights and loud noises. 

Because they were loud. And the loudness was not everybody's favourite part.  This was L.D's preferred seating arrangement. Safely tucked in GranGran's lap, with his and her hands over his ears. He was not the only one. 

His little friend J. did the same.....

...as did J's baby sister. I'm telling you, this baby was remarkably unfazed by the whole event. Her mom covered her ears when necessary, but other wise she just took it all in, wide eyed and stoic. That's the thing about little babies. Everything is new to them, so for all they know we blow off loud colourful explosives every weekend, and its just something else to get used to, along with eating solid food and putting shirts on over your head.  And I have to say, our fireworks were fun and lovely, but the people across the road had a display that kicked our butts. It worked out quite well, in that they somehow were staggered and as Hubs was setting up one of ours, the ones across the road would be exploding beautifully in the air, so we really got a double show. 

But the best part of the whole evening, especially for the little ones were the sparklers. I know parent's talk a lot about experiencing things through their child's eyes, and how awesome that is and how it makes you appreciate simple things anew and blah, blah, blah. Well, its totally true. I forgot how awesome sparklers are until I saw the Little Dude and his friend and how completely delighted they were to run around holding this stick full of crackling magic in their hands.

What could be more fun than this?

And also more counter-intuitively borderline dangerous. As a parent you are also suddenly hyper aware of how the whole world is fraught with danger. So that moment when you light a metal stick ON FIRE and hand it to your kid and instruct them to run around and wave it in the air, does feel a little insane. I wonder how many sparkler related injuries there are every year? I may have to look that up. Or maybe, I'm better off not knowing. 

I think the boys did pretty well with them, having some sort of realization of the potential danger so they were not too reckless. L.D. was happy to hold onto a grownup's hand while he ran around, though he did make a serious effort to try and get the sparkler to 'burn' some dandelions, which it did not of course. ahem.

They were also pretty good a putting up with my photography directions, and obligingly stood still(ish) while they drew circles in the air. Or 'dirt bike jumps' in the case of J. That'd be wavy up and down lines, in case you were wondering. 

There is something so magical and primal about fire. And it was so exciting for the Little Dude to stay up late.

But eventually all the sparklers were gone, and it was time to pack the little 'uns up and get them all home. It was nearly 10:00 by the time we got L.D. to bed, but it was totally worth it. 

Hope you all had a great Victoria Day too. 

fabric and geekery

The Value Village had its half price sale this week, and my very kind Mom dropped by my house during the middle of her very busy day and fed my kids lunch so I could whip out to the store and check out the sales. I knew I had 15 minutes to get there, and 15 minutes to get back, so that left me with a scant half hour to ransack the place, minus standing-in-line time. So this could be no leisurely wander through the store, leaving no stone unturned, and no shelf unexamined. Oh no, I was a woman on a mission. And that mission was (hopefully) to get Star Wars sheets. I am getting dangerously low, and I need to make more bibs and stuff, so with the possibility of half-priced vintage sci-fi bed linnens hanging tangibly in the air, I headed into the store with great hope. 

Now, it was noon. On half-price day, so I tried not to get my expectations too high as many, many had trod those aisles before me. An early bird I was not. I'd planned my path like this: Household Linnens, Men's Shirts, Toys (not that we need any, but just in case) Baby clothes (ditto) and then a quick look over the housewares for pyrex/mugs/awesomeness and a micro scan of the Jewelry. Oh, and formal dresses, because you never know. 

Toys, Jewelry, and Formal Wear were all a bust, which is fine. Got a few useful but non-photo-worthy items in housewares, (baskets, jars, little glasses for little hands) but as usual, Household Linens and Men's Wear was where I did most of my damage.  Three nice shirts. Love a good plaid, and that peachy coloured one is just the nicest heavy/soft brushed cotton ever. Gonna be so good in a quilt. And there in the middle is a Liberty for Target shirt.  I love Liberty, and its so funny because I actually bought this shirt new from Target when their Liberty line came out. But I got an XS and have plans to alter/wear it, and one day cut it up for quilting. But now I have two, and let me tell you, this one was way cheaper than the other. 

Then I found these nice sheets. I love how well they look together. Could be nice as a summer dress with one for trim. 

Couple of nice heavy weight cotton pillowcases, both stripey and orange. 

And another one of those lovely Irish Linnen tea towels. With a very groovy Saint Fiacre on it. 

I can see why this one never got used. It is really awesome. 

I might just hang it on the wall in my kitchen. It'd work with the nice orange-y wood '70's vibe that's already going on there. 

But all this was nothing compared to what you'll see next. Wait for it....

Oh My Gosh TRANSFORMERS! (it's not quite Star Wars, but really, almost the next best thing. Aside from Doctor Who. I'd kill to get my hands on some Doctor Who sheets). I have such fond Transformer memories from my childhood, most of them via my brother of course, who the actual Transformers in our house belonged to, but I can remember playing with them with him, and his excitement at saving up his money to buy Optimus Prime. 

Though my fond memories did fail me when it came to most of their names. The Little Dude was very 'insestred' in this, naturally. And quized me mercilessly about "what dat guy called? Dat Racecar guy? What his NAME!" etc. At which point I had to tell him I didn't know, and he told me that it was ok, "but we'll hafta look it on the computer." Yes, yes we will. (if you are reading this Uncle Lemur Boy, leave the names in the comments wouldya? It'll save me some time, and I know you can recite them all like it was yesterday)

Aw Yeah, 1987. Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. I'm going to show L.D. this picture tomorrow and it is going to blow. his. mind. 
Sadly, there is a fair amount of paint splatter on this old sheet. Honestly. These people must have been Barbarians to use their Transformer sheets as a drop cloth. Sheesh. I shake my head at their ignorance. But still, there is a lot that is useable, and bibs and blankies will be made, I promise you.

And speaking of adorable little geeks, here's what I found L.D. and his Daddy bonding over at bedtime the other day. Apparently three and eleven/twelfths is just the right age to bust out the Star Wars (Where Science Meets Imagination) and start indoctrinating them. 

I cannot tell you how much L.D. enjoyed paging through this book with his Daddy. They just went through pointing at pictures and Hubs telling him about what was there to be seen (space ships, explosions, robots, the harsh climates of inhospitable planets and their theoretical indigenous creatures...) you know, the basics.

It was a lovely moment. But of course, the real fun started the moment the book was closed and the lights turned off. And then, little mister chatterbox started going a mile a minute about all the wonders he'd just seen, and had a hundred questions and suggestions for potential story lines. "And then, and then there could be a HUNDRED Darth Vaders and they could all go for a ride in a big, big truck together and then when they all got out they could get in a space ship and go somewhere and then....."

Twenty minutes of non-stop chatter later, this was looking less and less like a good idea. But finally, he agreed to keep enjoying his thoughts, but not out loud, just in his head, and off he went to have pleasant dreams about a galaxy far, far away....

fern gully picnic

Back in April I posted about L.D's discovery of a magical place in the forest called "Fern Gully". At the time I mentioned it was nice and green, but there weren't many ferns. Well, almost exactly a month later, on the Saturday of this weekend past, we decided to head outside on such a beautiful day for a picnic. We packed a ramshackle lunch of veggies and fruits and crackers and dips and peas and sandwhiches and headed outside. When we were talking over where we'd set ourselves up, or rather, down to eat, L.D. again suggested Fern Gully, so off we went. Though we did have to stop for a second to admire the blossoming trees in our yard. Look at that would you! These blossoming trees are such a limited time offer, and I didn't get out in time to get pictures of the apple blossoms, so I was determined not to miss getting a few shots of this one. I believe this is a flowering crab apple, but I could totally be wrong (I'm telling you, the flowers/gardening gene skips a generation, and my Dad is shaking his head while reading this in complete exasperation that I don't know the kind of tree that this is. Leave it in the comments Dad, if you would be so kind.)

Anyhow, whatever it is, it is just gorgeous, and absolutely full of the sound of buzzing bees who are swarming all over it with such concentration that we don't even worry about them, as they pay us no mind. The Baby was very happy to reach up and touch the branches, and one of his new tricks is 'smelling' flowers with a big stagey "sniiiifff, ahhhhh...." So cute. 

Anyhow, enough dilly dallying and we were off to Fern Gully. So look back at the picture of that early spring Fern Gully, (third photo down in that post) full of green grass and not much else, and then feast your eyes on this. Is that crazy or what? A whole new layer of lovely growth. 

Again, never mind my general ignorance about the specifics of plant life, but I believe these are the kind of ferns that, in this early curled up stage can be eaten as Fiddleheads. I had planned to come out and pick some, but most of them were uncurled, or at least uncurled far enough that it did not seem to make sense to harvest them. 

Its so interesting, they are not spectacular in a colourful flower kind of way, but at the same time Ferns are just so lovely. You can tell why the Arts and Crafts movement was all over them as a motif. There is this lovely arcing symmetry to them. And every angle on them gives you something different. 

Anyhow, after ooohing and aaahing over the ferns, we hunkered down to have a proper picnic. I had my trusty and lovely thrifted picnic blanket along, which is really the perfect thing as it is wool, so nice and thick and you don't feel the damp through it at all. And so pretty in pictures. And then, as you can see, completely spoiling the aesthetic in the background is a large, plastic hunk of kid crap. Namely the wagon. This is where I fail as a blogger, since I cannot seem to master the perfectly styled family picture. In a perfect blogger world, that would be a vintage wooden wagon, and no one would be wearing their very practical, but not at all attractive hats. (Especially Hubs, he knows I hate that white trash camouflage hunters cap. If you can buy it at a store where they sell lawn mower part and ammo, it is officially not a style item) Serioulsy, that is an ugly wagon. But you know why we own it? Because Hubs got it for free. Probably out of someone's trash pile on garbage day. He promised me we'd never use it as a wagon, he was just going to take the wheels off of it to make something else with, but as with so many ugly, plastic albatrosses, it has worked its way into our lives. And though it fails miserably at being attractive, that wagon came in pretty darn handy for our picnic. Not only did it haul the boys and the food and stuff...

...but it also functioned as a high chair/playpen. Though I have cleverly cropped its offending plastic-y-ness out of this photo, it is the thing that kept the Baby happy, eating, contained and out of the adjacent creek all through lunch. 

The piece de resistance of our little lunch was this pint of raspberries. They stayed wrapped up in a tea towel until all peas, carrots, lentils, sandwiches, and yoghurt had been consumed, as I knew that once they appeared on the scene, all other options would be thoroughly rejected. 

And as soon as we busted them out, there was thought of nothing else. 

Yeah, just a little closer....

...oh yeah, that's the stuff!

As you can see, the Little Dude has his favourite raspberry eating technique down pat. We call it a bad case of the raspberry fingers.

The berries went so fast that Hubs had a hold a few back for me, as I was busy taking pictures and almost missed out on my share. And I finally decided to take off the Baby's hat so I could get a better picture of his raspberry eating glee.How 'bout that? That enough glee for you? Though the stylist in me was pissed that as soon as I got rid of the dorky hat, I had an unsightly cowlick to contend with. Though really, there's not much that can mar this baby's cuteness.

Ok, ok, just one more 'baby eating raspberries' shot. Managed to smooth down the hair too. Used the good ole' "mom's hand with a bit of spit" technique. That's better. 

And then we let 'im loose to stomp around in the ferns, and pick up sticks and snails and chirp and squeal and point. 

You may wonder why L.D. is not in these photos. First of all, he rarely stands still enough for a picture, and second of all, why bother with ferns... ...when there is a creek and a boat on a stick to sail in it. And rocks to climb on. And mud to step in. And water skeeters and little fish to throw bits of sandwich to. Who has time for pictures when there is all that to be done?

But after the picnic was cleared away, and the mosquitos were making their presence felt, we decided it was time to head home for naps, and off we went with our ugly wagon full of happy boys, back through the magic doorway of Fern Gully.
 Wishing you all a lovely day today, with at least a little bit of green in it. Go outside if you can. Find a cool place and close your eyes and breathe. If you are in a city, look for the weeds that come through the cracks. There's always a bit of green somewhere. You'll find it if you look.

mother's day

Or rather, the day after Mother's Day, as I mostly blog last thing at night so I know that most of you are reading this the day after I write it. But today was Mother's Day. Sigh. I know I've only been at this mothering thing for about four years, but I figured out awhile ago that Mother's Day is a real rip off. I thought it was going to be a day about mothers, you know, honouring all our hard work, showering us with gifts and thanks. I imagined I'd be shooed off into an easy chair whilst my adoring husband made meals and dealt with potty breaks while I sipped some sort of fruity drink and paged through the latest issue of Vogue. 

Yeah, those of you who have been mothers for awhile now are laughing as you read that. Because YOU know that mothers get SCREWED on Mother's Day (and I'm don't mean that in the good way). It mostly ends up being a day like all the rest, but possibly with more elaborate food prep. (On a related note, read Anne Lamott's Why I Hate Mother's Day. She's one of my favourite authors, and makes some very good points here. Thanks to my girl Sara for passing this one on).

Though to be fair, I cannot complain too much this year. (I wasn't expecting much, so that helps). We all got up in the morning together as usual, with Hubs heading out to the kitchen to start the oatmeal for breakfast. I went and got the Baby for his morning breast feed. And we had a lovely time, relaxing in the big bed for the 10 minutes that it takes him to eat, and then lolling around for another few minutes smiling and laughing and poking each other in the belly buttons. It was sweet. And then when I headed out to the kitchen I was met with flowers and a little present made by Hubs (a stainless steel ring he'd fashioned from a bit of pipe at work. Really, its nicer than is sounds and fits my middle finger perfectly).

Then L.D. and I were off to church, and after that there was a big family get together at my mom's house. But I actually was not there for most of it. I ran off to act in a play; a small informal workshop/community type theatre thing in a town nearby. Which was really nice actually. Its good to put that Theatre degree to work after all those years. And after an afternoon of pretending to be someone else, I returned home to the lovely smells and happy noises of a family having fun at my Mom's house. And the food! Oh, the food. I haven't got words for how good that home cooked deliciousness is, especially when you are not the one that cooked it. So really, my Mom was the mom who got the shortest end of the stick today, as she for sure did the most work. The ribs were to die for, I'm telling you, and I know that food does not get that tasty by accident. 

Anyhow, after a day in the sun with all the fun of cousins and ATV's and then a massive dinner, we packed two VERY tired kids into the car and after some much needed baths they were tucked into bed. Though L.D. did not go so willingly into that good night. Not without a bit of fussing along the way, but it was understandable after so much excitement. (another related side link, read dooce's description of how she knew her daughter was a three year old and laugh. your. ass. off. She so nails it. No one writes about parenting funnier then that)

So, what was my point? Oh yeah, it was mother's day. And though I did not get to sleep in, or lounge around, it was still really lovely. And as I tucked my boys into bed tonight watching sleep lay its soft, sweet mantle over them, it seemed like a pretty good day. 

And then I was poking about on the youtube and I found The. Most. Fantastic. Clip. EVER. And perfect for Mother's day. Behold:

 

This video makes me wish that I was a parent in the 70's. Or rather, it makes me wish I lived on Sesame Street in the 70's. Because then Buffy Sainte Marie could be my neighbour and we could hang out with Big Bird and nurse our babies together. Seriously, how awesome is this! Best line: "and I get to hug him when I do it, see." Awwwwwww! The only thing that makes me sad about this is that it could never, ever be on TV now. People would LOSE THEIR MINDS about a grown woman breast feeding her child on national television these days, much less on a children's show. 

If you liked this you should also check out Buffy Gives Cody a Bath, which is all KINDS of adorable, and has the catchiest little impromptu bathing the baby song you will ever hear. You'll be humming it all day, yup yup. Though I have to say again, this would never make it onto TV now. Because people are crazy now, and think that children seeing naked babies will destroy the very fabric of society. Oh, 70's idealism, where have you gone?

 

thrifting: the fabric post

Ok, there has been a LOT of good thrifting going on around here lately. I keep meaning to take it all home and take pictures of it and post it right away, but you know how it goes, there always something else to do. Lunch has to be made and consumed and promptly excreted. And somehow I just don't get around to it. Anyhow, after two good garage sale days and an impromptu visit to the V.V. I have more stuff to blog about then will comfortably fit in one post. So I'm going to do a fabric post, a book post and a other stuff post. Anyhow, yesterday I did a HUGE pile of laundry. The kind of laundry that I like: lots of lovely new/old bedsheets. We finally had a bit of sun, so I hastened to get them all out on the line. Isn't that the happiest little laundry hanger you've ever seen? Just look past the ridiculous long grass and dandelions every where and the gardens that look like their sole purpose is to grow weeds. Just ignore that. Focus on the lovely, bright, happy, clean sheets airing on the line. 

I had a feeling that day when I pulled into the parking lot of the V.V. that I might find something good. I was hoping it was Star Wars sheets, because you know, those are kind of my bread and butter. But I could not be happier when it turned out to be these Richard Scarry sheets instead. 

If you don't know who Richard Scarry is you should go and look him up right now. Because he's awesome. He is a children's book illustrator of course, whose forte is anthropomorphic animals who live in a delightful little place called Busytown. We love his books and read them over and over again. I just love the detail of his work. Seriously, a gas station that looks like a gas can? I mean, come on.

And there is actually Latin on the library. I know it makes me some sort of Ivory Tower snob for liking that, but so be it. Its just that usually kids stuff is so dumbed down. Its refreshing to see the opposite.

And its funny, someone just requested a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bib the other day and I had to say "sorry, I don't have any of that fabric." But now I do. I love it when that happens. 

And I could not pass up this bit of 70's text based awesomeness. You should see it. The repeat is HUGE so there is a lot of variety of density and waves. I kind of love it. 

At first glance this seemed not so special, so I just bought one pillowcase instead of two. But now that I see it in a photograph, I feel like I should have bought more. It's going to be awesome in quilts.

Standard pretty, soft blue floral. The best thing about it is the fabric texture though. Like freakin' butter.

And look! A pink one just like that blue set I got awhile back. Same nice heavy weight cotton. I love getting patterns in multiple colourways. 

Stripes. Because I can never pass up a good stripe. They just come in so handy. This is actually a duvet cover from Ikea and its HUGE. I'll probably use it for a quilt back.

And this nice little thing (though excuse the wrinkles) is some sort of tablecloth or lightweight throw. But I'm going to cut it in half and make a scarf out of it for myself. I love these colours and I totally want to wear them.

Also, I've been finding a lot of these lately. They're these souvenir type towels from Ireland. Always proudly marked 100% Irish Linen and almost never, ever used.
Seriously. Almost every time I find one its in pristine condition with the original out-of-the-package crease marks. I think every little old lady in the world has one of these in a drawer that she recieved as a gift and is 'just too nice to use'. Well screw that. Their day has come. I'm using 'em. 

Because really, they work SO WELL. I love a good linen dish towel. You wouldn't think they'd be that absorbent, but they totally are. And very cute to boot.

And look at this interesting thing. It was in the 'tablecloth' section, but I'm not sure it is a tablecloth. I know that its African, as I searched the text and it is in Swahili in fact. It says "Mother and her son does not envy". At least that's what Google Translator tells me. Since it is in Swahili it could be from Kenya, Tanzania or Mozambique, or possible Uganda, Malawi or Rwanda. I vaguely remember a presentation on these sort of textiles from my art school days, but I really need to go out and do some more research. Either way, its quite lovely. I'm so glad that I handwashed it though, and didn't just chuck it in with the brights, as it bled a ton of pink/red ink. Probably purchased as a souvenir and was never washed before. 

Anyhow, just as we were finishing lunch the day I washed these, it started to get very ominously dark. My Dad phoned to tell me to get my laundry off the line (as my Mom was also doing laundry too, and had run out to get hers in) So I quickly popped the Baby out of his high chair and went about getting him a little sweater and finding some shoes. And just as I walked out the door it started to rain. So I dashed out and started tearing things off the line. The Baby, having a bit of good sense apparently, stayed under the deck, watching me run about like a madwoman. I finally got it all in, turned around and ran back under the deck to see.... The Baby very much enjoying himself a little snack. I ran over to him, jammed my finger into his mouth...

..AND PULLED OUT A WORM!

Not much about parenting grosses me out, but that sure did. He thought it was quite funny. When I told hubs later he asked if it was a live worm or a dried up dead worm. I wasn't quite sure, but really, I'm don't think one was preferable to the other. 

Anyhow, they say you eat 8 spiders in your sleep over the course of a lifetime, and a pound of dirt over the course of your childhood, but they never said anything about worms. 

I'm so screwed

Because this is how we usually set up the layout during playtime. I clear off one end of my sewing table, and the Little Dude climbs up and sits on the back of the couch to that he can play with Lego, or Sio Montage, or Fisher Price Little People or whatever other little, swallowable dangerous-to-babies toys he wants to play with. And the Baby stands by the coffee table and plays with blocks or just roams about the room chirping and pointing at things, or maybe even hunkers down beside the bookshelf to page through some stories books (after he's pulled them ALL off the shelves of course). And that way all is peaceful, because no one steals anyone else's toys (or horror of horrors is forced to SHARE!) and all is safe because I know the Baby can't get ahold of a little lego bit and try to eat it for a snack. And maybe, just maybe I can get a little bit of sewing done. 

But just the other day, THIS happened. Aw crap.

Here's how it goes down. The Baby loudly voices his displeasure. He points and yammers and tells me he wants to go. up. THERE. And for some mysterious reason, I will not help him.

So he decides to give it a shot himself. The leg goes up.

Every muscle is put to use as he heroically pulls his entire body weight up to another level and....

...SUCCESS. I wish I could have caught the Baby's look of supreme self-satisfaction. He was so pleased with himself, it was adorable. And also, note that L.D. is as of yet oblivious at the intrusion into his world. It was only seconds later that the Baby made a grab for his wheels and nuts and bolts and the Little Dude was screaming "get him DOWN! Take him AWAY! Come get the BABY!" sigh. Of course he cannot yet get down by himself, which is dangerous. He's basically succeeded in getting himself up to a place where he can conveniently fall down from and hurt himself. It'd be funny if it weren't so tragic. So now I have to watch him like a hawk. 

He can also apply these couch climbing skills to the ottoman.

There he goes hauling that big cloth-diaper butt after him.

Did it! 

He does seem to be able to reverse slide his way down from the ottoman though, so that's good. And here he stands, happily examining his booty. A wheel and a stick. Totally worth the climb. And of course, I'm always pleased to see him acquire a new skill. Though in this instance I fear it means I will never sew again. Sigh. At least not when they are awake.  

 

 

not so relaxing

It was a beautiful day today, though we didn't get to spend much of it outside as we went to church this morning and then spent most of the afternoon.... in the emergency ward. 

And I thought we wouldn't be back there for awhile since croup season is over. Sigh.

Hubs and the Little Dude went to church without me this morning, as I was staying home with the napping Baby. A part of the 'church experience' that the Little Dude always looks forward to is the sacrament of the cookie. I'm being flippant of course, but after each service everyone gathers in the parish hall for refreshments and chatting. And the Little Dude, as soon as he is released from Sunday School, hightails it over to the snack table where there are plates full of cookies. We always supervise his choosing, and try to steer him towards something that looks a little less sugary than the others, and of course, to avoid anything that might have peanuts in it or something like that. Today he was excited about a brownie with m&m's on the top, and so Hubs (a soft touch) let him have it. (I usually root for an oatmeal raisen cookie or something like that).

They came home from church and LD was rashy around the mouth. In fact, he had a couple of hives. Hubs rightly assumed he was reacting to something in the baked goods, but that's not so unusual as to warrant panic, so we gave him a dose of kid's antihistamine and got on with lunch prep. But L.D. was really unhappy. "I don't like that medicine!" he wailed "it makes me feel spitty!" Sure enough, he was drooling quite a bit. Hubs and I exchanged worried looks, but still weren't to upset about it. "We should call the church and find out what was in that brownie after lunch." I suggested. As we were just sitting down to eat, L.D. who had not stopped whining and complaining about spittiness, started to cry again and jumped down from his seat to run to the bathroom. I went after him, and helped him with his snap, and tried to calm him down. I started to read him a book, when all of a sudden, he puked. And by 'puked' I mean, 'projectile vomited'. 

Let me just say that I have been an extremely lucky parent, because aside from baby spit ups, this is the first time that the Little Dude has thrown up. Ever. I have never had to clean up puke before today. Very lucky mom I am indeed.

So to say that I was surprised by the vomit was an understatement. But what I noticed most clearly after the initial shock was that it smelled distinctly of .... peanut butter. 

The Little Dude has never had peanuts before. He has a tendency to react to things, so we decided peanut butter could wait for its introduction into his life awhile longer. But today was the day I guess, and now we were getting to see how he was reacting, and let me just say, it was not good. 

But it was also not anaphylactic. My brother is allergic to bee stings, so I've seen anaphylaxis before and I was pretty sure this was not it. He was crying to beat the band, so I knew his airways were open. And he kept saying "how did I boke?" ('boke' being scottish slang for 'puke' that he picked up from a book we once got out of the libarary)

Anyhow, even though I knew it was not anaphylaxis I was still pretty worried so we went to def con five and I called my mom to come and stay with the baby and in about 8 minutes we were out the door and on the way to the emergency room. 

Long story short, they were very good at the hospital and fast tracked him, but during out short and monitored wait he got a bit worse (crazy hives, crazy sneezing with lots of mucous, another boke and er, intense irritability) so they did end up giving him a shot of epinephrine and more antihisitmine. And then we had to stay while they monitored him, of course. (So that was most of the afternoon by the time all was said and done) After the shot he calmed down and then finally fell asleep in Hubs arms. At which point I had a bit of a cry. It was all pretty stressful and as a parent you're working like crazy not to show that you are stressed out. You know, speeding (very carefully) all the way to the hospital all the while trying to talk in a calm tone of voice and pointing out tractors and construction vehicles in order to distract your child from pain. And then telling the triage nurse what happened, and trying to convey the seriousness of it to her, while trying to keep your tone light so as not to alarm your three year old. And of course, having to see your baby get shots for the first time is no picnic, nor is holding their poor little heaving body while they puke out everything they've eaten in the last couple of hours. So when he was finally asleep I sat down and stress cried on the floor beside the bed while Hubs rubbed my shoulders. He's a good man, I tell you what. 

Anyhow by 3:30 it was all over and we were discharged and headed for home. Though we did stop first at the pharmacy, and by 'pharmacy' I mean, the 'toy store', where we fortified the Little Dude with some medicinal Thomas the Tank Engine. I'm not the type to buy a toy for him every time we are out, but when you've spent the whole day watching your kid struggle, its just such a relief to see his face light up at the mention of a new toy. Totally worth it. 

And when we got home, he was happy to be back in familiar surroundings and hungry for dinner. And then we all went outside for a walk in the waning daylight, to savour what it is to be together as a family. To appreciate the fragile health that we take for granted every day, but we are so lucky to be given. The grass was greener that it had been before, and the trampoline was bouncier too.

It was such a joy to see him bouncing and digging in the dirt and picking up a whole handful of worms. "its a collection of worms mom!"

We picked some flowers and headed down to the creek.

And it filled my heart to see those three reddish-blonde heads bent down together to look at the small creatures they all love so much. (an ant colony in this instance)

The Baby had a chance to pick some little flowers (though we did have to stop him from trying to consume them, as per usual).

And we admired the honey bees at work everywhere.

It was a very eventful day. And I hope we all sleep like logs tonight. And I hope we don't have a day the 'eventful' again for awhile.

 

the Little Dude's day

Its funny, how information each one of us adults have and use and hold in our heads all the time. And its funny how often I just assume that my son, because he is a walking, speaking little person, has all that information too. Its hard not to over estimate him sometimes, just because in a way, it feels like he's been here forever and is practically a grown up. But of course, he's still just three and three-quarters, and there is much he does not know. And Hubs and I have noticed lately that he seems to have trouble figuring out what the time of day is. He can't read a clock yet after all, so he has to rely on contextual clues. Like, when he wakes up, if it is light out, he knows its morning. And when Daddy comes home, he knows its going to be dinner time soon. But what if one of those contextual clues is vague. Like on a recent over-cast day he kept asking me "is it gettin' to be night time soon?" No, I'd tell him, we're only at lunch time, its just kind of dark out today. Or when Hubs comes home early as he does every friday, if often confuses him as well. If Daddy just got home, why are we not having dinner yet? And he still has a hard time telling the difference between nap time and bed time.  

So together Hubs and I brainstormed up a little tool to help him navigate his way through the day. See there above the blue chair rail? I present to you, the Little Dude's picture clock. 

Now I know you'd expect it to be round, because I said "clock", but we decided that it was more intuitive to make it linear, because that's how we think he is learning to understand time. There is a picture for each chunk of his day, starting on the far left with waking up, eating breakfast, having a bathroom break, morning playtime, and then lunch time. 

Then, after lunch time comes outside play time, quiet time/nap time in his room, afternoon playtime and then dinner time.

Then, after dinner time comes bath time, story time with Daddy, and finally sleep. 

Then we gave the Little Dude a post it note with an arrow drawn on it, and he can stick it so that it points to whatever part of the day he is experiencing right now. The idea is this will provide him with an external indicator/tracking system for his activities and therefore, the passage of time. And that way he will get to know the difference between lunch and dinner nap time and night time. So far, he loves it, and enjoys hopping down from his seat to position the sticker just so when dinner time has come. 

Hubs quickly sketched these little pictures up with a Sharpie on some card, so they are not what he considers a 'good/finished' drawing. I'm supposed to say that, since I'm showing them to the world. They are just quick little doodles, and not what he would do if he was putting a lot of effort into them. He has standards you know, and says these are for home use only.

I however, with all the enthusiasm of a non-drawer think they are awesome. I love Hubs' quick sketchy style. I like the wonkieness and freshness of them. And I love the detail, even though they are roughly done. I love all the details of our furniture and familiar objects in the backgrounds of the pictures. And I love the satisfied little look on the Little Dude's face in this particular one. L.D. of course loves that there is a tractor in this one, and two Face Trains (as he calls his Thomas the Tank Engine toys)

Though this one of course, is my favourite. The eagerness of the little boy as he points to the pictures and the happiness of the daddy as he reads are pretty much as accurate as you can get. EVen if you are only using a Sharpie.

what's going on here?

Here is the scene that I came upon the other day. I can't help but wonder what the story is here. It looks so dramatic! Its one of my favourite things really, to find one of these little tableau set-ups that the Little Dude has created and try to figure out what he was seeing in his head.

So I asked him what it was about and here's what he said:

"The Mommy and Daddy are saying "What!" because they are surprised to see all the babies in the same bed together. The ones at the end are sick, but the ones at the top are not. And they are saying "What!" because they didn't notice that they were sick. And they are surprised that the babies are all sleeping in the big bed."

Ah. Mystery solved.