Wednesday, 28 October 2015

Flexing Muscles at the Dinner Table


At the dinner table the other night, we started talking about protein and that it makes your muscles big and strong.  Scarlett, our self-described "Meat Monster", pointed out that she loved meat and therefore had big muscles.  To illustrate, she flexed her arms as hard as she could - in a red-faced, teeth clenched, whole-body-shaking, four-year-old kind of way.

This is where our sketch begins.

I point out the obvious.  "Watch out: you'll poop your pants."

The family giggles.  And giggles.  Until Scarlett catches her breath and says, "Remember Mom, we don't talk like that at the table."

I had broken the cardinal rule: No potty talk at the table.  "You're right.  I'm sorry."

And then she drives her point home: "I think that just made Jesus sad."

Sunday, 25 October 2015

Malcolm at 10 Months

Malcolm at 10 mo.

He has changed.  A lot.  He laughs at my jokes.  Hide and go seek is still his favourite thing to play, but now he owns it.  He grabs my scarf in both hands and stretches his arms straight over his head trying to hide (which is funny in its own right because his massive head gets in the the way of his relatively stubby uncoordinated arms).  There is nothing more fun that passing a piece of Mega Bloks back and forth while Mommy signs "Thank you."

Walking?  He thinks its for losers.  In fact, standing is for kids who don't know how to scam the game.  Why move when you've got older siblings to get everything for you?  He has taken a little bit of initiative and finally decided some things are worth getting up off his bottom to explore.  His preferred mode is the army crawl, which really seems like the most difficult method of self transportation out there.  His choice.

At his nine month check up, an interesting thing happened: Baby Nevin officially caught up with Baby Malcolm.  Malcolm was 31.5 inches and 23.5 lbs.  When I back-checked (or fact-checked?) Nevin's baby book for his stats, I discovered that they also look identical.  They are my little male matryoshka dolls.

p.s. He loves wiping food in his hair.  I love how his hair looks after I wipe it out of his hair (refer to picture above).

Friday, 16 October 2015

A Canadian Thanksgiving. In Vermont?

Dog Mountain

Our Canadian Thanksgiving in Vermont,  also know as the best Thanksgiving I have ever celebrated, had none of the traditions, but all of the important stuff that Thanksgiving should have.

Food?  Forget about turkey.  We ate waffles and bacon.  And burgers and pancakes and hotdogs and fries from the the diner that all the locals go to.  But our actual Thanksgiving dinner was pizza.  Yes, pizza.  From the best little hidden pizza place ever.  Its the kind of place that is packed, even though you are certain that you are lost right up until the moment you see the tables, since its in the middle of nowhere and you have to walk through a general store to get to it.

And don't feel bad for us about not having the bread and roasted vegetables and oven-warming-the-house-up stuff that makes Thanksgiving weekend special.  We did that, too: lunch every day was roasted veggies and crusty bread from the farmer's market.

That's just the food.  There was a corn maze at the end of our dirt road with "farm yard minigolf," "gopher holes for kids," barnyard animals, and a mini town for kids.
And our rental home was on an 800 acre farm with trails.
And we picked apple trees on the hill behind our house for snacks.
And we went to the Dog Chapel and took in the dog-themed stain glass and dog angel statues and the fire hydrant at the top of Dog Mountain.
And the boys went mountain biking at Kingdom Trails.
And Shawn and I sat in recliners reading together, eating snacks and cheese and drinking beer every night.
And the kids learned how to play checkers and Candyland.

It was quiet, beautiful and completely soul satisfying.  It was a live-in-the-moment and savour the little things weekend.  Looking back, it almost doesn't feel real.  Of course it was real, and because it was all about family and being who we are where we are, when Scarlett woke up sick we abandoned plans to take the scenic route home, drugged our fevered girl and took the most direct route back to Ontario.  Perfection isn't attainable, but contentment is.

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Things Scarlett Says


On starting school late in the week compared to everyone else, to her cousin:
"You'll have to call me, because I'm the only one available."

On allergies: 
"I think that when the bees are carrying their baskets with the honey in it then it tips a little bit and some falls into the air and swirls around (insert exaggerated hand motions here) and a little bit comes through our window and into mommy's nose." 

On wall goo for sticking up posters: 
[Me: What is that?] 
"It the stuff that looks like gum but doesn't taste like gum."

On time:
"Is it 9 o'clock yet?"
[Shawn: No, it's 8:22.]
"You are going to have to tell me when it is because I don't know numbers like that.  I only know numbers like googolplex and other numbers with 3 in it."

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