November 2

This was the first year that the boys (well the older two) got really into the Halloween thing, specifically trick or treating.

The weather was horrible (of course!) but despite the cold freezing rain, we met a bunch of Seth's friends and joined the shrieking frenzy, with Avery doing his best to keep up.

Although sleeping in the bunk beds remains optional, decorating them is a must. 

Some blogs stage shots like this. Not us. Note dustpan behind R. 

A shark.

Some thought he was Nixon or Bush. Both scary.

There is nothing as nostalgic as the smell of a plastic bag filled with the mix of Halloween candy.

Monday October 29th

I'm exactly 10 days behind with a picture of Devan at 2 months but I didn't do anything like this with the other two (yeah for blogs which are so much easier than albums or scrapbooks).  So really, in some way I'm ahead I think.

Devan 2 months 

Avery has renamed Dev Dev (the happy mouse) - Biddle.  I think it might be a variant of little but its sticking so far.

Saturday October 27

Even though Avery just wanted to smash his pumpkin and the weather is grey cold, it was still nice to be able to spend some time just the two of us.

Being caught between a talkative 6 year old and a 9 week old baby isn't easy.

Hopefully days like this help.

Tuesday October 23

Whoever it was that said you are only as happy as your unhappiest child was very much on to something.

The heartbreak you can't control is the challenge of parenting - and I hate it.

I try and place it in a global context of how lucky our children are, that they have so much in a loving family, a safe country, food, shelter - so many things that too many others don't have.

But nothing can change the primal desire to fix everything for them and to hope and pray that they are ok and happy.

Monday December 4th: The Anniversary Post Script

Expectation and lived reality usually differ, but this is especially true when kids, particularly your own kids are involved.

And so it was, with the long awaited "Anniversary Weekend."

The hotel was booked, complete with a couples massage, a bottle of champagne and a late dinner reservation.  I had even vaguely floated the idea of buying something suitably cliche and lacy - I didn't get around to it of course, but anyway... it turns out it was just as well.

By Friday at 1am both boys have hacking coughs which soon morph into vomit.  Ugh.  Cue R and I spending the rest of the night changing sheets, getting water, dispensing cough medicine and bitching about who did the last round and who is doing more (me clearly).

Saturday morning dawns and we're both cranky.  It's also clear that no one, not even (or especially) family should be asked to cope with a second night like that. Plus, the boys would go crazy if we left them overnight somewhere when they're sick.  Only the dinner reservations can be changed without a fee - so we're stuck with a hotel room (literally around corner from our house) and the spa appointment. 

All is not lost however.  My sister in law comes to stay with the kids while we have our massage (R falls asleep in exhaustion, I think about making soup for their coughs).  We go home, we take the kids with us to the hotel - I optimistically bill it as a holiday family sleepover, yeah!

So instead of champagne, we take turns swigging a half bottle of average red wine from the hotel mini bar (the boys are putting animals in the glasses), the dinner plan becomes eating the kids leftover pizza with a McDonald's sundaes.  The kids are loving it though: the tv is bigger! The bed is bigger! You can see into other people's rooms!

We all pile into the bed.  Twenty minutes later, Avery is sick everywhere.

All the towels get used up as we try and mop up the mess.  I open the window and crack a couple of mini bottles, we take more sips in between cleaning up the bed, the children and ourselves. I hope I have enough cash on me for a serious tip.

We do a second round of baths.              Everyone collapses in exhaustion.

There is no glamour in this I think.

The morning brings room service and with it a slightly happier family.

So it was not at all what I'd planned.

But it was a reminder for me that relationships are not actually about the big planned events, but somehow finding fun in the tedium of the everyday, with someone that you can hopefully look across a pile of rancid towels at 2 am and think, I'm glad its him.

Even if it takes the help of a few small bottles to source that kind of zen. /rs

Friday November 19: Tea For Three

I'm really a coffee (well Redbull) person but last Thursday I took my Mom and one of her oldest and closest friend (the first she made when she moved to Canada) to tea at the Windsor Arms.  It was a bit of an early birthday celebration since they also share the same birthday (November 29th).

There was a fireplace, scones, mini sandwiches, very puffy couches and petit fours (there was also some oddly menacing music playing), but only for the last half hour.  It was nice and made me wish that Mad Men could successfully and fully bring back gloves and hats for everyone.

My mother is 58 this month.  I'm 35.

I think about at this often, not our ages (well that's not true since I constantly think about mine - a whole separate post).  But what I marvel at is that she had me at 23, exactly a year after having an arranged marriage (a topic I often write about) and moving to Canada. In January.

The age of motherhood debate is hot topic.  What's too old, too young, and the eternal question of: is there a perfect time?  I've considered this topic from a professional angle at the MomShift and my own anxieties at becoming a mother at the in-between age of 29 is what prompted my second book.  I'll also freely admit that as tough as it probably was for her at 23, I selfishly like having a mother that is still on the young side.

The average age of mothers is going up - this is not new and I anecdotally know 5 women who are having their first babies and are over 40.   I personally think the entire "debate" on the age of motherhood is pointless, each person's life is different, there is no "right" way to do things (though reading some mommy blogs would have you think otherwise) and in the end, its all just about a series of different choices.

And as awe struck as I am at my Mother's story, I know its not unique. I know lots of friends with mothers who had them at 21, 22 or 23 and sort of fit them into everything else that was happening from immigrating to new countries, returning to school or starting businesses.

But in an age when everything to do parenthood and motherhood seems so overwhelming, when every little decision is completely overanalyzed (I'm not saying I don't do it but I realize how privileged and naval gazing it is) - I constantly wonder what she and her friends, (all women who cheerfully coped and got with having families as just something you did, along with everything else),  really think of all our earnest (and probably futile) efforts.

My guess?  Is that they're having a justified laugh, behind our backs.  /rs

Friday November 5: The Rude Word Collection

Silly head. 
Fossil brain. 
Noodle puss. 
Bum. 
Dumb. 
Toilet. 
Diaper Area. 


Since Seth was three he's had an ongoing and ever-growing "Rude Word Collection" that he recites with glee and updates with an earnest dedication - most recently when we were reading this Berenstain Bear book (sidenote: my brother and I collected these when we were little and I only just discovered that they now have their own online world which is a terrifying yellow).

Anyway, experts tell us that when kids swear, they are imitating us (in which case, I'm glad that the most x rated of the rude words is just stupid) and that the way to stop it is to offer alternatives) - which we do.  But there is something to seeing the sheer pleasure of a little person saying what to them is a rude word.
It's pure joy and the discovery of the power of words, just not in the way you might have hoped.

Sunday September 18th: A Bouncy Castle Comes Our Way

R is back and has taken the boys out for a walk and some post trip treats.

I'm mentally trying to get some perspective on parenting.  On the rational side, I know I'm obsessing about something small (a couple of remarks from Seth about kids on the SK playground), like everyone else, each day I read, see or hear about the horrors that so many kids are enduring and know, that this is on the small, small side.

Emotionally, I can't wait to talk to his teacher and see what's going on.

This then, is the insanity of being a mother and yet I know its a luxury to be even be able to angst about these things at all. Only possible because we have a place to live, food to eat, the expectation that our children will not only be secure, and safe but also have some sort of inalienable right to round the clock happiness, at least as long as we think we can control it.

Deep breath.

Today, on the worlds friendliest street as my hood will now we known - we are having a street party, complete with a bouncy castle.  Yes, a bouncy castle on a little street in the heart of downtown Toronto, literally off one of the busiest intersections in the city. And lots of food, and always lots of wine.

R and I are also attending the launch of this book on the international world of art theft by a friend and former colleague.

I'm excited for the party, even though I actually hate going out on a Sunday night, it feels wrong.  Sunday nights, in my mind should be spent organizing for the week ahead.  A legacy of my childhood I think.

Today I am:

• Hoping to work out soon; 
• Planning on wearing my BCBG thin turtleneck dress (always a date favourite);
• Asking for help in being able to successfully guide my kids into being happy, confident and secure people; 
• Loving the warm fall sun and breeze and 
• Wondering why even though I feel like I am constantly buying groceries, we have nothing good to eat in the house.  That and how, if its getting cold out, the mosquitoes seem like they're getting bigger. 

Friday September 16: Its only going to get harder

I'm glad its Friday.  The boys need a weekend, badly.

At the pick-up today, Seth got in the wagon and I could tell he was cranky, angry and upset.  All at once.

The reason?  He'd lost at hockey and was devastated that his team wasn't the "champion", then someone had hit him before lunch.  But it was more the big hockey loss that have filled with anger, at himself.

And it is heartbreaking to see  your 5 year old angry at himself.

I did my best.  I told him that everyone loses sometimes, no matter how hard they try (remember how Daddy and the Red Team lost the election even though they did everything they could - political bloggers might differ on that one, but still).  I told him that what matters is what you do after you lose, that you try again the next time.  I encouraged him to take deep yoga breathes.

How do encourage your child to be competitive but not be devastated when they lose?  And how do you encourage them to keep trying things, even if they might fail, what's the balance between making failure part of success without saying its ok.

All of this has made me more appreciative of all the small and still simple moments with him and Avery.

And worry how much longer I'll have them.

• Snuggling in bed in the morning;  
• Watching they play with animals; 
• Reading books together. 
• The sheer joy that simple things (throws, silly dances, pants on head, Daddy's songs can bring).

Today I am: 

• Glad I went to Bikram yoga; 
• Enjoying having the house and the boys to myself with R in NYC. 

Friday June 10th: Teaching Failure

Two weeks ago, Seth my 5 y/o fell of his bike.

Since then, apart from riding it around the house he has refused to get back on.

Even with me offering to hold the back of the bike, re-assuring him he won't fall again (not really a false promise, since he's still got training wheels on) and reminding him over and over that everyone falls down when they're learning to ride bikes.  Yes, even the six year next door. And the 10 y/o down the street.

Fear of failure starts early. 

And as a parent, its horrible to see.  Especially when you're not sure where its coming from and you know that this really is one of the most important life skills you can give a person.

And so this weekend, the goal is getting him back on that bike and somehow feeling good about it...