Froggie Meanie

Looking Even More Like Christmas

2009-12-15T10:24:00.002-05:00

Way back in October, I decided to make Christmas stockings for the family (or at least the kids). Daniel's fell off my knitting needles in less than a week and I promptly started in on Claire's. Then I got sick a bunch of times and we had company for most of November and the whole project sort of ground to a halt. This past week, I got back at it and Claire's stocking is finally done:

It is unblocked and the ends aren't sewn in yet. I also haven't gotten eyes put on the snowmen. In retrospect, I should have knit beads in for their eyes and not had to worry about duplicate stitching them on afterward. Oh well.

I decided that the girl stockings would all be mainly red and the boy stockings would be mainly green. So far, so good. Here are a couple more shots for the interested:

I started at Jillian's the other night and that was going along swimmingly till I got hit with a case of stomach flu. Yuck. I'll get back at it again today but I had almost convinced myself I could get hers and the two for hubby and I done before Christmas Eve. I don't think that is going to happen anymore. As long as the kids' are done, I'm happy.

In other news, Sir Daniel was 8 months old last week. I can't believe how big he is already. Where is the pause button? I always take a photo for every month and I'm especially pleased with this one. He was so happy and cooperative through our little photo shoot. Such a great little dude (I can't believe he's going to have to be three at some point).

I had a lot of fun making the snowflakes. I wanted them to be nice six-pointed snowflakes and I found a lovely online tutorial here.

Conversations About the Holidays

2009-12-08T12:36:00.004-05:00

#1:

Claire has been sneaky lately. She will whisper things she want said or done to Jillian and gets Jillian to say or do them. Usually these are things she thinks will get her in trouble with us. I am onto her but this has not stopped her yet.

Additionally, like many parents, we have been trotting out the "Santa is watching!" line when anyone steps out of line. It's not nice, I know it. But for one month out of the year, I can get some good behaviour with one simple sentence. I'm no angel, it's ok.

The other day, Claire and Jillian were in the kitchen and I heard Claire starting to whisper to Jillian. All of a sudden, she popped up:

Claire: Mommy? Daddy? Can Santa hear me when I whisper too?
Me: Oh yes indeed he can!

#2:

Yesterday, Jillian came home with a stack of worksheets that she has done at school over the past little while. Included was a colouring sheet of a menorah that Jillian had coloured in a bunch of really crazy, vibrant shades. The quality of the colouring was great (Jillian, till recently, has been a scribbler) and I decided she deserved a pat on the back.

Me: Hey Jillian! This is really great colouring! Did you do it?
Jillian: Yes! I did!
Me: What is it, a menorah?
Jillian: Yeah...I thought it was a rainbow, but really, it's a menorah.

I nearly choked on my coffee. If I turned the page upside down, it really did sort of resemble a rainbow. That explains the colours, I guess. In fact, on further inspection, she had coloured one of the spaces between the arms of the menorah. I think she DID have it upside down and her lack of knowledge together with all those curved lines made it hard to tell positive space from negative space and away she went - colouring the rainbow.

#3:

Daniel can't talk but the girls got airtime so he should get some too. He is honestly the calmest, most gentle (recent eye-gouging aside), good little fella in the universe. He got his first two teeth a couple of weeks ago. Now, his tongue is always out (I think he likes the feel of his teeth on his tongue) and everything goes into his mouth. He's 8 months old today and I've found that around this age, every object in the universe is worth investigating, first with hands, then with mouth. It's cool.

The other day, I was sitting with him on my lap, drinking a Starbucks coffee. He watched, very closely, as I would raise the cup, sip and lower the cup. Once in a while his little hand would shoot out and scritch scratch at the side of the cup. When it was gone, I let him have the cup for a bit. He LOVED the lid. The moment was cute so I got him spiffed up in Christmas sleepers and took his photo:

It's All Fun and Games Till Someone Loses an Eye

2009-12-04T13:41:00.004-05:00

"It's all fun and games till someone loses an eye!" is a phrase I'm sure I heard a fair bit as a child. If not that exact phrase, some variation of it. My mother was, rightly so, very conscious of our eyeballs when we were children and I can remember that whenever I had a sharp pencil, pair of scissors or a needle in my hand, I got a gentle reminder to be careful with those things around my eyes. The thought of losing an eye or going blind scares the living daylights out of me and I try not to even think about what that would be like for too long else the walls feel like they are closing in on me. So, needless to say, I'm pretty annoying with the kids about their eyes. I have been known to yell at them if they are walking at any speed with a pencil, have taught them the 'proper way' to hold scissors and I will snatch any pointy objects out of their little hands before they can get into trouble with them. Eyes are precious. We take care of our eyes. Period.

So I feel a little sheepish that I'm the one with the eye injury. Sigh.

Daniel has been going through a bit of a separation anxiety thing at night. The second I turn my back on him after he goes to bed, he starts wailing. I have figured out how to convince him to go to sleep at night but if he wakes up, he will sometimes lose his mind till I appear by the side of his crib. Some nights I just have to put his 'sucky' in his mouth and he'll go back to sleep. Some nights if I ignore him for 2 or 3 minutes he'll get over it and go to sleep. Some nights I have to take him out of his bed and love on him and cuddle him before he'll even consider going back to bed.

Wednesday night at half past dark (I think it was about 4 AM but I'm not sure) he woke up in full squeal mode. DH was away on business and my Tuesday had been a long, difficult one with the girls and I was exhausted. I didn't feel like arguing with a clingy 7-month-old so I plunked him in my bed with me. I calmed him down then rolled over so my back was to him, and eventually drifted off to sleep with him scritch-scratching at my back and saying "dadadadada" and blowing raspberries. Eventually, he fell asleep too.

At about 7:30, he work up again and started making semi-unhappy noises. I woke up too and chatted at him with my back turned but he didn't quiet down. It was still pretty dark but I could see a bit and I figured he just wanted to stare lovingly at me for a bit (we love each other...it's all good). So I rolled over. About three quarters of the way over I felt a POKE and then a SCRAPE right in my left eye. OW OW OW OUCHIE OW OW SONOFA...!!!! Daniel's natural reaction to feeling anything make contact with his open hand is to scratch it. He scratches the fabric on his carseat, he scratches my pants when he sits on my lap, he scratches the couch when he's on it, and apparently he will scratch an eyeball if you are stupid enough to put one in his way.

At that point I rolled back over and muttered to myself for a while and waited for the pain to ease. Usually, a little poke near an eye will hurt for a few seconds and then be ok. Well...this wasn't going to be ok. I couldn't see right out of that eye, it felt like there was a boulder in there, it was watering constantly (and when my eye started watering, my nose decided to join in the fun) and the pain just wasn't going away.

I thought I'd get up and 'walk it off'. I went downstairs and tried to get breakfast for myself and the girls but I was having trouble even doing that. At that point I started to freak out. I called Dad and asked if he'd ever had a scratch on his eye and he told me that he got a sliver of metal in there once. I asked him more questions and he recommended I look on the internet to see if it were scratched and what to do about it. But the light from the monitor hurt and I couldn't read with all the blur and the tears and the pain. So I called my brother to look it up. By then I was really freaking out and I may have lost it a little on the phone with him. He tried to downplay the whole incident to make me feel better but I was too far gone. I hung up with him and called my friend Anne. I started out with "Hello Anne, sorry for the early call, it's Renée, Daniel scratched my eye" and she said "Do you need to go to the hospital?!" and then I sort of dissolved in a mess of sobbing and sniffing and ouching and...well...it was ugly. "I'm putting on my clothes and I'll be there as soon as I can" she said. I love Anne. Thank heaven for Anne.

By the time she got here I was a fair bit calmer. I decided I needed to see a medical professional and it would all be fine. We put the kids in the car and she drove us off to see the doctor. The doc took one look in my eye, did one of those sharp intake of breath sounds that mean "Holy Cow that hurts!" and sent me to an optometrist. By this time it was aching and I was getting a headache and Anne was trying to keep control of the girls (who were being a little wild) and the whole ordeal was taking its toll on me (Anne too I think). Eventually I got to go for "pretesting" where I had to stare (even though that made the watering worse) at an image of a serene little barn at the end of a road and stay very still while pretending that my baby hadn't just tried to pluck my eyeball out. Then she sat me in front of another machine, sent straight from the Spanish Inquisition, that blew a puff of air into each of my eyes while I tried not to kick the optometrist's assistant in the shin.

Then I got to see Mr. Optometrist. He promptly put some strange dye in my eye and then once I started wincing said "oh yeah...it might sting" (thanks for the warning). Then he looked in there and told me I had a scratched cornea. The bad news is that corneas have more nerve endings per unit of area than almost any other part of your body so if it gets hurt, it HURTS. The good news is that it is the fastest healing part of the human body and in a day or two I should be back to normal. He then told me to go home and take a good two or three hour nap. When I laughed out loud, he thought about how many kids I had brought with me and offered to patch my eye. As goofy as that sounded I thought it was a good idea. Instead of patching it with an eye patch a la Pirates of the Caribbean, he put a non-prescription contact lens in my eye to keep my eyelid from irritating it, told me to get antibiotic drops for it, not to do much of anything for the day and to come back in 24 hours.

I was so happy to be told I was going to be ok that I didn't even ask how extensive my injury was. I didn't much care at that moment. Anne piled us back in the van and brought us back home and I prepared myself to try to function home alone with three kids. At that point, my brother called and told me he could take half a day off work to come and help out. Awesome. Excellent. While your at it, brother, how about getting McDonald's for everyone for lunch so I don't have to think about it?

My brother was great. He sat and watched movies with the girls so that Daniel and I could go have naps. My eye still hurt and I still couldn't see but I had help and I was told I was going to be ok so I was cool.

Today, after a good night of sleep, I feel much better. My vision is still blurred in my left eye but light doesn't bother it and I don't feel like there is anything in it anymore. When I went back to the optometrist, he told me it is healing really well, took the contact lens out and told me I should be back to normal by Monday (please let it be so). While I was there, I asked exactly what sort of damage had been done and he showed me a little drawing that looked like this:

The circle is my cornea (the clear bit that covers the coloured part of the eye) and the grey bar is the scratch...pretty much exactly the width of Daniel's fingertip. Again...ouch.

When my brother came, he brought me a really sexy eye-patch in case I thought that might give my eye some relief. I tried it out but it just made my brain hurt so I abandoned it pretty quickly. The moment I discarded it, the girls adopted it. This morning they made a pirate ship out of a big plastic bin and used a blanket for a sail and the horse-on-a-stick as the plank and drew out treasure maps -the whole bit:

To get her to smile she would say "walk the plank!" or "scallywag" or "land-lubber" but not "arrrrrrghh matey!".

And here's Mr. Gougy Gougerton himself, ready to fight dirty any time it is required:

Looks harmless, eh?

Claire Turns Five

2009-12-01T13:25:00.004-05:00

We have been busy here so I've been behind on the blogging. I'll get caught up soon, I'm sure.

Claire's fifth birthday was on the 15th of November. We love celebrating birthdays in this house and I think Claire looks forward to hers more than anyone else. The 15th of November is far enough from Christmas that her birthday doesn't get squished together with that big event. But, it is close enough that all the fun stuff happens for her in a short period of time. Halloween, birthday and Christmas all two months. Then there are 10 months of waiting for more fun (punctuated by Easter and other people's birthdays). Patience has never been one of Claire's stronger points so she can drive herself crazy looking forward to her big day. So, when it finally comes, we're all pretty happy for her.

Personally, as much as I wanted her to be happy, this was a bittersweet event for me. I was in no hurry for her to turn five. I don't know if it really is, but five seems like a real milestone. She's not a 'toddler' or a 'preschooler' anymore and I can't even pretend that she's my baby. I've been subscribing to the Baby Center website since I was first pregnant with Claire (I think before they even had a Canadian version of the site) and they send me weekly emails. It started with "Your Pregnancy This Week" then "Your Baby This Week" (I get these for Daniel now) then "Your Toddler This Week" then "Your Preschooler This Week" (I get these for Jillian now) and then, all of a sudden, when I was at my most vulnerable I opened my inbox to a "Your Big Kid This Week".

And so she is. She is in senior kindergarten this year and that's 'real' school! She has the vocabulary of a much older child and can express herself quite well (and even 'talks back' - make it stop?). She also has reasoning abilities that both amaze and frustrate me. She has a perfectionistic streak that I recognize from my own childhood (it is rough being that sort of kid). She is contrary and we can't suggest anything to her. If we go to the library I cannot even show her a book because she will reject it without even looking at it because it wasn't her idea. She knows right from wrong and has a notion of justice that some lawyers don't even possess. If she gets caught doing something she shouldn't, she takes her punishment like a pro. If she feels she's being treated unfairly...watch out! Her motor skills are so good that we rarely have to help her with the fasteners on her clothes, or with anything else really. She draws pictures that are recognizable from a dozen paces and some are better than anything DH can draw (sorry dear). Her hair has grown long and thick with just enough body to make it manageable and lately, when we wipe her hands down after dinner we marvel at how big they've gotten. She really, truly, isn't a little kid anymore and even though I enjoy seeing her grow up, I don't like her being 'big'. Not one bit. Sigh.

Here is the big kid on her big day:

As is becoming tradition, a fancy cake was required for the occasion. My cousin Tanya was up visiting from Cape Breton and together we made something awfully cute. Claire told me she wanted something 'pretty' and I tried to keep her from giving me more ideas than that so I could have some creative control. Character cakes are fine but they are a bit of a challenge and a bit of a bore at the same time. I was happy to be able to go wild with this one:

The white, polka dots and little balls around the edge are made from homemade, marshmallow fondant. Cousin Tanya made a big block of purple modeling chocolate, which I cut into a five and promptly cracked. Tanya, being the expert, managed to fix it twice before it was presented to Claire (Jillian claims it was delicious - I didn't taste it).

The best thing about the cake is that we baked a surprise inside. Here she is at first glance:

A rainbow!

A better view:

We used two white cake mixes, measured out six lots of batter with 1 1/3 cups each, dyed each bowl of batter with 1/2 teaspoon of Wilton food dyes (violet, royal blue, leaf green, lemon yellow, orange and no-taste red). We baked each layer at 350 for 12 minutes. There was enough batter left over for nine white cupcakes (mainly because I didn't want it to be too high).

We only had four kids here to celebrate but they were all gobsmacked (and they all ate a LOT of cake). Here's our little gobbler in action:

We also decided the cat should be festive:

He didn't mind the hat. There is a reason why Remington has no similar photo (So. Not. Impressed).

After cake, it was time for presents. She got a lot of great stuff but had been asking for a "Ribbon Unicorn" since she saw one at the store a few weeks back. I convinced Jillian that she wanted to give Claire the unicorn. I figure Jillian could use a few brownie points with her five-year-old overlord (she can be sooo bossy when she wants to be). I think it worked out:

Although now, two weeks later, she says that "It's funny how the things you want soooooo bad don't always turn out to be that cool. My ribbon unicorn is sort of boring...she just sits there". Again, the apple doesn't fall far. I was NOT a make-believe, stuffed animal loving kid so I get what she means. Jillian, on the other hand, is all about the pretending and would have a much better time with a unicorn than Claire seems to be having. Ah well...she'll figure this out about herself and next year will ask for books or art supplies.

One of her favourite gifts was a pretend school set that I managed to find for her. It came with a pointer and a bell and worksheets and attendance sheets and hall passes and a clock and a weather map and a calendar and is basically just like her class at school on a smaller scale. She likes playing best when she can have real, live students and so Jillian and Daniel obliged her. In this photo she's giving a lesson on CLOCKS. Really. It was only after I uploaded the photos that I saw the spelling error. Eeeeek!

She had a really great day. I think this is the last year I'll be able to get away with a tiny little party with just family and friends (and their kids). She is rumbling about wanting to have something more elaborate next year. I guess that's what being a big kid is all about. Sob...

For the record, that means that this blog also turned five a little while back. It isn't a little kid anymore either, I suppose. It seems to have a lot of identity issues and maybe a few problems with consistency but that's ok. It's my little corner of the universe and I like it fine. I'm considering another year of photo-a-day, starting on January 1. Back in 2007 when I did it last I ended up with a really good record of things that happened from the mundane to the monumental and I want that again. So I might try.

A Conversation at Storytime

2009-11-17T20:09:00.003-05:00

DH was sitting reading "Harold and the Purple Crayon" (Crockett Johnson) to Jillian (great book, we highly recommend it). She picked the book out herself a couple of weeks ago and wants it read quite frequently. She has obviously thought a little about it. He read her this page:

DH: But, luckily, he kept his wits and his purple crayon.
Jillian: Daddy?
DH: Yes?
Jillian: Where are his wits? Are they inside his pyjamas or in his pocket?

Halloween

2009-11-11T12:13:00.002-05:00

As ususal, Halloween was a fun occasion in these parts. The girls had a countdown going for quite a while before the big day. Neither of their schools allowed the kids to dress in costumes to school but both had "Black and Orange" days. My mother sent them each a cute shirt and I bought them ribbons with witches on them to tie in their hair and they went off to school happy.

Daniel had no school to attend but he dressed in his Halloween shirt anyway and I whipped up a pumpkin hat for him at the last minute (from the Fiber Trends Patrick's Pumpkin pattern):

Claire's school also does not allow any 'treats' as there are so many kids with food allergies. I made her a batch of fancy Halloween cookies for her own lunchbag and she took them to school for days before and after Halloween:

Next year, I won't make headstones. I started myself on a morbid, slippery slope when I tried to answer the almost 5-year-old's "what's that?" as the pointed at the little decorated headstone.

Jillian's school had a little potluck and I signed up to make cookies for her class. I had a lot of fun making, and later eating, these guys:

The girls picked out their costumes early this year. Claire wanted to be a butterfly and Jillian wanted to be a ladybug and Old Navy had both costumes (variations on one another). I used to sew costumes but it is long, hard work and so I went on hiatus. They were so excited:

Daniel was a tiger for trick-or-treating. This photo required a spotter and a fast shutter finger:

The girls had a blast trick-or-treating. More so than in previous years. Claire immediately started analyzing what sorts of treats she was getting. One woman dropped a Kool-Aid Jammer into her bag. While the woman was still there she looked at me and said "that lady put something WEIRD in my bag". Oh the horror! Jillian would go to a door and get her treat then spin on her heel and squeal "Let's go to another one!" and streak up the sidewalk to the next house. Daniel sat in the stroller and grinned at people. It was fun.

In the daytime, we took the kids on some Halloween visits and he wore another costume. I, for obvious reasons, LOVED this getup:

RIBBIT!

About Miss Jillian

2009-10-26T10:17:00.005-04:00

This started as a quick post about something Jillian did. It grew into a lengthy portrait of the child. I'm ok with that...you just need to know that it is long before you set in.

Oh Jillian. Sweet middle child of mine. You are both filling my life with oodles and oodles of bright sunshiny mirth and tearing chunks of said life off, stuffing them into your mouth, and swallowing them whole (then grinning at me in that way that keeps me from staying angry with you). I guess quality is better than quantity anyway, right?

In public, I spend a lot of my time chasing your adorable, impish self with admonishments to stay where I can see you and to cut it out with the silliness. I also spend a fair amount of time telling people that yes you are cute and yes those curls are natural and no I don't know where they came from (or if I'm feeling mischievous - that the mailman has curly hair). Other times I can be found muttering "Three...she's three...she's onnnnnnly three and will only be three for another 244 days and I can manage till then". It probably goes without saying but I don't take you out much. It's too hard.

At home you are sweet and tender and loving and hilarious most of the time. You hate it when we get upset with you and are quick to apologize for any indiscretions with tears shining in those big blue eyes. You are dramatic about EVERYTHING. The other day we did a workbook and the activity was to look at drawings of animals and say what sounds they make. Your sister, always the serious sort, would have said "Moo. Baa. Neigh. Quack. Cock-a-doodle-doo. Meow. Woof. There...all done...next page". Not you. You bleated merrily, lowed with intensity (starting with chin on chest, ending with face pointed at the ceiling), crowed till any napping neighbours were surely awake and meowed so convincingly that the cats came to see the new kitten in the family. You talk non-stop and at great volume and you are so distracted by your own running commentary on life that getting you ready to go anywhere is a monumental task. We are always late. For everything.

You are one of the silliest human beings I have ever met (with the exception of your Godmother). A lot of the time we really love how completely crazy silly you can be. You have great, creative ideas and when you wind yourself up, we get to experience some pretty wild sides of Jillian and we like it. You do, however, take it too far sometimes...like at mealtimes, and bedtime, and when your father and I are trying to have a conversation, or when I'm trying to tell you something important, or when we're trying to get out the door. I figure you will eventually learn that there is a time for silly and a time for preventing your mother's face from turning that horrendous shade of purple while her mouth pinches up into a little slit. Could this be my Christmas present? Discretion? Santa? Hear me!?!? Please?

They say that kids say the darnedest things and with you that is definitely true. You learned to talk early and you have a vocabulary that stuns me on a lot of days. Together with your flair for the dramatic and silly little brain, you can make coffee spew out of my nose on a nearly daily basis (even if you are being deadly serious - your "I mean business" look cracks me up). Examples? Sure:

1) It was a cold but clear day and we were heading out the door to swimming lessons. On the way, you grabbed a pair of sunglasses and proceeded to put them on. I asked you to take them off because swimming is a chaotic scene anyway and sunglasses would surely get lost. You gave me a bit of a scowl and said: "I want to keep them on. Besides, the sun is allergic to my eyes".

2) I was sitting in the family room knitting and you appeared before me with your head down. You looked up at me with tears in your eyes and said "I'm sooooo sorry Mommy. I broke your spinning wheel. I was pretending it was a bicycle and it just broke. I'm sooooooo sorry. I won't do it anymore". You didn't get in trouble even though you have been told a jillion times that the spinning wheel is not a toy, not the quarterdeck of a pirate ship or some carnival game. You got mega brownie points for being honest and apologizing. Kudos to you. When I visualize you pretending the spinning wheel is a bike, I can only imagine it as a recumbent bike. But you've never seen one of those. I am resisting the urge to have you show me how that spinning wheel becomes a bike.

3) This one kills me. And not in a ha-ha Alf kinda way. When you do something naughty and we ask you why you did it, you inevitably say "because I love it". You have applied this to everything from splashing tub water on the floor and finger painting with the peanut butter you have wrestled out of your sandwich (which you likely DO love) to peeing in your pants (which you HATE).

4) You have figured out how we will react to a lot of the things you say. You know what we will agree to or smile about and what will make us roll our eyes or sigh or say no about. There are no flies on you. You hate disapproval and will often make light of a situation in an attempt to cajole us out of our grumpy faces (this frustrates your father and I). Lately, you have decided that maybe you shouldn't be the one to say things that you know we won't like. I think Winnie the Pooh is to blame. That silly ol' bear gets a rumbly in his tumbly and says "my tumbly says I'm hungry" (or somesuch). So you have adopted his ways. It started with "my belly says I'm full" or "my belly says I'm hungry" and then progressed to "my belly doesn't like broccoli" and then to "my belly says it isn't tired" and "my belly told me to do it" and "my belly says I don't have to listen to you". Your belly needs to zip it.

You are such a great little kid and so cuddly. You still love your Dolla even though she is getting pretty tattered and you don't sleep well unless she is with you. You still suck your thumb a lot. Especially when watching television and in bed at night. We try saying "thumb is for bedtime only" but you don't listen. Honestly, some days, the only time you are quiet is when you are sucking your thumb so I have been known to let it slide. Your left thumb is the only one you suck (so you can maneuver with the right) and it looks very different from the right one. It is flatter and broader and the nail is weak and grows slowly.

You love listening to stories and you don't care who reads to you or what they read or even how well they read to you. The fact that Claire's school has a daily, at-home reading program has made you very, very happy. Despite your love of the written word, you have no urge to learn to read, or write, or draw. Your teacher claims you do know a fair amount about these things but you refuse to tell us any of it. Ever. When we ask what you did at school you always say "nothing". The teacher has to tell me anything I want to know. Except song lyrics. You have inherited my penchant for song lyrics and you like to sing so we know about all the songs you learn at school. Apparently you are the class clown. We are not surprised.

You love dresses and revoking your dress privileges is a harsh punishment indeed. You also love your ballet class and the last time you had a bathroom accident in the daytime, I made you sit out of a class. You haven't had an accident since. You think ballet is awesome and I'm looking forward to your end-of-the-year recital. I bet you steal the show

You are delightfully ticklish and you love to be tickled. You will beg for more tickles even when you are out of breath and red in the face from all the fun. You are a bit of a kamikaze and will jump/tumble/dive off of anything with assurances that you aren't going to be hurt. I'm considering keeping a defibrillator on site to restart my heart when you get up to these antics.

You hate the dark and it took us too long to figure out that part of the reason you had so many 'accidents' in the mornings was that the days got shorter and the mornings got darker and you were afraid to go into the dark bathroom in the morning. The other day you wouldn't even get Dolla out of the front room because it was sort of dingy in there.

You also hate lying flat in the bathtub to have your hair washed and my old "let's pretend you're a mermaid" trick isn't working anymore. You used to be sucked in by the mermaid act because you loved the little song I made up and would do actions. I write the lyrics out here for posterity (to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey"):

There's a beautiful mermaid
Swimming in my tub.
She kicks her wee flippers
and she says "glub, glub, glub".

A more beautiful mermaid
I have never seen.
She's always so happy,
and she comes out so clean.

I'm no Poet Laureate but it used to work. Now say you prefer to shower but then you stand there with your hands over your grimacing face while the water pounds down on you. I'm going to let you figure this one out on your own.

You love Claire to pieces even if you two are nothing alike and she is usually pretty bossy with you. You are a night hawk and Claire is an early-to-bed sort of girl so there have been a few issues since you started sharing a room. However, one morning last week, Claire got up before you did and came downstairs and when you woke up and couldn't find her you were frantic. You burst into our room in hysterics because Claire was gone.

You love Daniel to pieces too, even if he is the 'baby' now and took a good bit of attention from you. You just don't seem capable of any other emotion when it comes to him. You smother him with hugs and kisses. I have honestly been concerned for his safety, such is the intensity of your adoration. He seems to like the affection though. He grins and giggles at you all the time.

You've been a handful lately and writing about you like this helps me to appreciate you a little more. I'm glad I spent a goodly portion of my day doing this. Ah Jillabeena, whatever would we do without you? You are the zippity in our do dah...that's for sure.

Claire Sits

2009-10-23T21:19:00.006-04:00

Today was one of those days when Jillian was in school and Claire wasn't. I both look forward to and dread these days. I look forward to them because I enjoy what is essentially one-on-one time with Claire (Daniel is a good little dude who just grins at us all day). I always end these days with a little more insight about her personality and a greater appreciation for the person she is. She's old enough to do things with and have reasonable talks to and Jillian isn't quite at that level. So, we often have a good time when little sister is being educated (or being the class clown).

However, I have found that without Jillian around, I become Claire's sole focus. She, normally so independent, needs help with everything when Jillian is not here. She wants me to tell her what to draw, what to play, how to play, what to eat, what to wear, what to watch on TV (and can I do it all toooo) etcetera, etcereroo. She is always inquisitive but she has more questions and the answers need repeating when Jillian is away. She nags me mercilessly from the time Jillian goes to school till we pick her up. Basically, I think she misses Jillian's company and in order to get the stimulation she normally gets from her sister, she paws at me for attention. On many levels, I don't mind. These days aren't all that frequent so I can usually bear the pestering. I do admit that usually, by midday, she has me run down.

This morning, I could feel myself losing grip rather early in the day. I decided that it would be better for us to be out of the house doing things than in the house with me getting irritated. So, to that end, we set up a visit to the yarn store. While I spent some time catching up with Carolyn and Anne, Claire did this:

She found the one story book in the shop, set herself up on the rocking chair (she ADORES rocking chairs), covered up in a throw and had a good little story time by herself. Looks cozy, eh? Were it me, I think I'd have made a nest of Cascade 220 to lie in but that might have angered Carolyn and I'd never leave the shop so I'll restrain myself.

After that, we headed to Indigo. Claire went to a birthday party a couple of weeks ago and instead of a loot bag was given a $10 gift card to the bookstore. I think that's a genius idea. No junky stuff coming home and we get to go on a nice outing to the big bookstore and pick something out. Claire browsed around for a while and eventually picked out two books for herself. On the way out of the children's department, she spotted a bin of "wands" just like the one her teacher uses at school for a pointer (it's clear acrylic with pink glitter and sequin hearts and stars and stuff inside,snow globe style). She quickly put one book back and got a pointer instead and set herself up like so:

Another book, another chair, another good time. When I suggested I wanted to go to another section she waved me off with her wand with a "go ahead". Not likely. Instead, I plunked down in the other bean bag chair and watched her read for a bit (I thought I was going to have to stay forever - bean bags chairs are killer to get out of).

The kid can find a good reading spot wherever she goes. It was a good day.

It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas...

2009-10-16T13:00:00.000-04:00

...at least it is on my knitting table.

This year, I decided it was time to knit stockings for the family. I resisted doing it before as I remember my brothers having hand knit stockings that dragged allllll the way to the floor the second Santa dropped an apple into the toe. As cute as those stockings were at first blush, they weren't so pretty all stretched out like that and good ol' Santa had to invest a lot more into filling those things too!

I tried making stockings for the girls out of felt one year but they weren't very sturdy and had absolutely no give in them. After that I bought stockings for them but I didn't like those much either. So, this year, Daniel is here and we feel like we are done adding little people to the family. I thought that made it a good time to make some good-looking stockings for the kids to have for as long as they last (I'll make one for DH and I if I get time). I decided to try stranded knitting, thinking that that sort of fabric might stretch less than regular knitting.

This is Daniel's stocking, hot off the needles (unblocked):

I made it from 5 shades of Cascade 220 wool and the pattern is in my head. Carolyn from the yarn store is already making rumblings about how I should write up the pattern and I might do that once I get another one done and make sure I know what I'm doing.

Status Quo

2009-10-13T13:51:00.000-04:00

Things have been good Chez Froggie. The girls are settling back to school and I'm getting used to being taxi mom again. We seem to fill every moment of every day with all sorts of things from the mundane to the very exciting.

Blogging seems to be pretty far down my list of things to do lately. I seem to be too busy doing things to spend time writing about things. I wish it weren't so. I know that someday the kids will look back on my musings here for glimpses of their childhoods and when I go on bloggy hiatus, whole chunks of their lives go missing.

Last week, Daniel turned six months old (whoosh - that time raced by) and we had an impromptu photo shoot. Here are the lovelies in all their glory:

Claire:

Four going on forty. She has matured so much in the last few months. She is turning into such a lovely human being who is helpful and smart and creative and just plain pleasant to be around. Don't get me wrong, she has moments where she can pull out the stubborn and whiny act till my head feels like it is going to explode but by and large, those incidents are lessening in frequency and are easier to talk her down from. She loves to read and can read anything as long as the sentences are not too complex. She likes looking things up in the children's dictionary and likes any book about animals or nature. She adores arts and crafts and can draw lovely things when she feels like it. She loves school for the academics but hasn't got much time for the other kids (they "bother" her). I hope she doesn't shoot venomous glances across the play-doh table or anything.

Jillian:

Silly Jilly. The kid is three. Have I ever said how I feel about three? Me and three are not friends. Three takes years off my life. When Claire was three she was stubborn and moody and just plain infuriating. I wondered if she was ever going to snap out of it. Jillian at three looks a lot different but it is no less frustrating (if it were the same, I would feel like I had a clue how to manage). She can go from absolutely adorable so you want to scoop her up and kiss her all over to so nutty you think you could make a MINT by selling her to the monkey keeper at the traveling circus. She is an emotional little creature and most of her moods come with capital letters and exclamation points. Claire can be happy but Jillian is HAPPY!!!! (complete with squealing and jumping). She also spends a goodly portion of her day looking for things that are right under her feet. One day last week she stepped over her grey pants five times while whining to me that she couldn't find her grey pants. She runs off in stores and at the mall and does things like play "jungle" in clothing racks or will hold the hand of a mannequin and declare that it is her "Mommy". This makes taking her into public places really hard. But...when she's in a good mood and behaving herself - there isn't a sweeter, cuter, more considerate, entertaining kid on Earth. When she gets past three, she's going to rock my world daily.

Daniel (six letters in his name, six months...that's how this photo shoot started):

Lucky boy. He has a Mommy, Daddy and two big sisters who think he is awesome. He is lavished with hugs and kisses and told how handsome and good he is from daylight till dark. This may all go straight to his head and make him an insufferable three year old but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, we're all loving every second of this smiley little guy's life. He is so quiet and content. He is happy to stand in his exersaucer or sit in his pillow or on a lap and watch things verrrrrry closely. He's not interested in crawling or moving around and that's fine by me (Claire was a very similar baby that way). He loves bathtime and would win a gold medal if Jolly Jumping were an Olympic event. He hates bedtime and naptime and any other time that requires him to halt his reconnisance on the household. He started on solid food and has very definite, and odd, tastes. HATES carrots and baby cereal. LOVES prunes and squash. Pears and applesauce and sweet potatoes are ok. I don't remember the girls having tastes like this. Jillian ate anything and everything and Claire, like me, ate well when really hungry and clamped her mouth shut otherwise. He loves pulling my hair (ow) and thinks that giving "kisses" involves gathering both my cheeks into his chubby fists, squeezing as hard as he can (OW!) and putting his open mouth over my lips and waiting for me to make kissy noises into his open mouth and then giggling at the echo. Sometimes, for my trouble, he'll drool into my mouth or put his tongue in there. The whole act is both repulsive and adorable.

The whole gang:

I'm a lucky woman to have these three. Stubborn, silly or sleepless is just part of the package and I'll happily take the bad with the good anytime.

Big Sister

2009-09-24T12:55:00.003-04:00

Even though she has her moments, Claire is typically a good big sister. In fact, she takes her role so seriously that I have had to get on her case about the fact that she's "not the mommy". I know Jillian gets on her nerves sometimes - the two of them have such different personalities that it must be hard to get along. Claire is precise and perfectionistic and practical and Jillian is silly and exuberant and silly (yeah, I said it twice. It bore repeating). However, lately, I've been finding Claire spending a lot more time doing nice things with, for or to Jillian.

On Sunday morning I woke up as I normally do, listening to the sounds of the girls going to the bathroom. I prepped myself for one or both of them to come in and ask us for breakfast or to just plain get up. It didn't happen. Things got reallllllllllly quiet. This freaked me out and I got up in a bit of a panic to see what the heck they were up to. When I went into the room, I found this:

You could have knocked me over with a feather. There they both were, in Claire's bed and Claire was happily reading Dora stories (Spanish and all) to her sister. I've been trying to teach them that if they are awake and I am not, that it would be considerate of them to stay in their rooms and read books or play quietly till I get up. It appears that on Sunday, Claire's brain finally processed that talk and went out of her way to keep Jillian occupied. Good stuff.

I thought they needed more company, so a few minutes later the scene looked like this:

He loves paper. We have to wrestle paper out of his grasp on a nearly daily basis. He tries to eat it and that just isn't cool.

This has nothing to do with the kids but when I was taking those pictures, Phineas stood at my feet and made cat love to a stack of books. It was almost like he felt like he should be included in storytime:

You should have heard the purring.

When it comes to Daniel, Claire is absolutely head-over-heels in love. Jillian likes him too but Claire loooooooves him. I came down with a nasty case of stomach flu earlier this week and got so dehydrated that I couldn't make enough milk to keep the poor boy happy. We supplemented him with a bit of formula while I was sick and he loved it. I'm not too impressed that he prefers bottles but I will consent to giving him a bit of formula before bed in an attempt to get him to sleep through the night again. He was doing it for months but gave it up in the last couple of weeks. Hunger is one of the only explanations I can come up with so...bring on the formula. Last night I gave his sister the job of feeding him. She was in heaven:

She's a good girl. I hope she still loves him when he gets mobile and starts eating all her books.

Delta Alpha November India Echo Lima

2009-09-18T10:58:00.003-04:00

Hey. It's me, Daniel. That title up there is pilot speak for yours truly. Why? Cuz I'm cuter than Tom Cruise and I've got the gear to be the next Top Gun. Mom made me an Aviatrix hat (Ravelry Link and Designer website respectively) :

Don't be calling me "Maverick" or "Iceman" or "Goose" though, k? I wanna be "Heartbreaker". Nobody can resist these baby blues...

Here's my airplane impersonation (or as close as I come at five-months old):

Mom told me she has some really cool airplane buttons for this hat but she can't find 'em so I'm putting up with temps for now. I can't see 'em over there on the side of my head so I don't care just as long as I can pretend I'm in a dogfight when I wear my hat.

When I'm big enough to fly a real plane I need something cool and loud. Making noise is one of my favourite pass-times right now so I think I'd like a plane that I could make sonic booms with. Wouldn't that be cooooool? My mother (silly woman) agrees that I need something loud but she tells me whatever I fly has to be wet too. She wants me riding around in one of those big noisy helicopters that drop water on fires. She thinks I go a little overboard with the drool for a guy with no teeth on the way. Me? I find the drool a good way to mark my stuff as mine. Those sisters don't want my toys once I've made them dripping wet. I drool on the shoulders of all my favourite ladies too. That way they look sort of messy and the other boys don't bother with them. Heh. I've got the dating strategies down pat.

Come over here so I can drool on you too. You know you want me to.

(Mom says I have to give the deets on the hat *sigh*. She made it from Berroco Blackstone Tweed in a colour called "Cape Cod". She really likes the yarn. I caught her rubbing it on her face a few times and heard her talking about how it has angora in it...whatever that is. She wants me to say that she went up a needle size on both the ribbing and main hat to compensate for the heavier yarn. Finally, even though she made the bigger size, the under-chin strap is only on 6 stitches instead of 8 because that goes under my chin better. It is a touch big on me now but I'm gonna be awesome in it once it gets colder.)

Kids Think the Darndest Things

2009-09-17T10:03:00.003-04:00

The girls are playing out in the backyard this morning. It is strangely quiet inside the house unless Daniel screams (which is his new habit...he does it for his own entertainment and to make me crazy). They have their easel out there and I refilled up their bubble jars. They have a couple of balls and each other for company and it is alllllll good. It is a fairly crisp morning and that helps. Claire hates heat and humidity and bright sun but she will stay outside for hours in this sort of weather (again, the apple does not fall far). They are really giving the yard the once over, sizing up everything in their path.

A little while ago, the door flew open and Claire burst in:

Claire: Mommy, Mommy, come quick!
Me (wondering what Jillian, Our Lady of Head Bonking, has done to herself this time): What's the matter?
Claire (all panicky and out of breath): We. We found. We found a. We found a snail. We found a snail body!

Seriously. That's how she talks when she has something in her brain that she wants to get out quickly. One word at a time, added to the sentence, over and over till I'm ready to burst from the anxiety of it all. I think her brain is just spinning so fast that her tongue can't keep up with it. Anyway...

Me: A snail body?
Claire: Yeah! A snail body! Come quick!
Me (imaging a squished garden snail and preparing to give the "death speech"): Ok. Let's go see.

I go out back in my socks, such was the nature of the emergency, and see Jillian looking frantic and pointing at the sand table. I approach and look for the poor squished critter:

Me: That's a slug.
Claire and Jillian: A slug?
Me: Yeah...a snail without a shell. That's how they look all the time.

It just struck me funny and I wanted to share. All too soon they'll know all about things like slugs and seahorses and how the SkyScreamer at Marineland looks like fun but likely isn't and how Wubbzy isn't real and no we can't go visit Wuzzleburg. So, humour me while I write these things down so I don't forget.

A Conversation I DID NOT HEAR

2009-09-08T10:38:00.004-04:00

Me: We really need to do some serious decluttering. Once the girls are back in school, I'm going to start getting rid of stuff. We need more organized storage and we need to make better use of the basement.

DH: Yeah, the basement is pretty ridiculous, isn't it?

Me: It's crazy down there. Things get tossed down there, never to be seen again. It needs a better structure.

DH: We have lots of shelves and stuff down there but we aren't making good use of them.

My antenna starts going up and I go into a defensive posture

Me: Uh huh....

DH: Like how you have five shelves of yarn in the basement. A lot of it has been there for five years. The stuff you haven't used, you should throw away.

Me: What?

DH: Throw it in the garbage. Take a garbage bag down there and get rid of it. If you haven't used it by now, you aren't going to.

Me: Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

I figure that was a better response than "La, la, la...I can't hear you" or running wild-eyed and flailing into the basement to make a nest out of the precious, precious stash and sit there, for eternity, scowling. It probably wasn't as good a response as explaining to the engineer husband that wool is a natural insulator and the fact that we have THAT MUCH in the basement probably means we are cutting our home heating bills by a third. No! No! We are cutting it IN HALF! I should look up the R-value of wool.

Newfoundland Vacation Week 2

2009-09-07T10:53:00.000-04:00

Back to the vacation summary. We had a really great time during the second week of our vacation to Newfoundland. We'd been there long enough to settle in and relax a bit so we were up for a bit more activity.

We started week two with Daniel's Christening. We've had all the children Christened in Newfoundland at the church I attended as a child. Here he is - boy in a dress:

The girls both wore the dress that I wore. I really wanted Daniel to wear the gown that his father wore so my mother-in-law got it from her sister and we washed it up nice and squished Daniel into it (it was a touch snug).

This is a dress with history. DH's grandparents had it made (his grandmother may have made it herself - I'll have to check that) 64 years ago for their eldest child from some old priest's vestments. All six of their children, several of their grandchildren (including DH and his brother) and now a great grandchild have worn it. It was beautiful. It even had a matching petticoat. Apparently, they used to regularily change the ribbons in it from blue to pink depending on the gender of the wee one.

After we recovered from that occasion, DH and I decided to go on a little trip to Rose Blanche (small outport community my parents are from). My Aunt Janet was eager to see the girls and meet Daniel:

While in Rose Blanche, DH and I went for a boat ride with my Uncle Cliff. We always seem to bring nice weather with us to Rose Blanche and it was a great day for a spin. The red house in the background is my aunt's place and the turquoise place is the town restaurant (deeeeelicious).

On this trip we went to West Point where my aunt and uncle keep their cottage/fishing base. It is a 40 minute boat trip from the end of the highway and is a lovely spot in the middle of nowhere. It used to be a community but was relocated back in the 60s. During relocation, most people dragged their houses to new communities (honestly) but they often left the porches behind. My aunt and uncle's cottage started out as one of those porches but they have added to it over the years so now it is a nice big spot. When I was a kid, I used to spend chunks of my summers out there fishing and berry picking and basically having a great time.

Here is a wharf with lobster traps and a stage:

Here's DH exploring the town (the brown place in the background is Aunt Janet's spot):

When we got back to Rose Blanche, the girls were determined to go for a ride so Dad hopped in the boat with them and they went for a little spin around the harbour (which they loved):

The following day, the girls asked if they could go out and visit the lighthouse so DH and I took them over for a jaunt. They had a blast cavorting over the rocks:

I think Jillian's pose is hilarious in this one.

They desperately wanted to go into the lighthouse and go up the "spooky stairs" to the light. So we did:

It really is sort of spooky in there. It is cold and damp and the stairs are steep and the rail hardly seems adequate. Fun though. Claire even got to sign the guestbook (the tour guide knew who we were).

Here's an iris that was growing in the boggy soil. There's a broken sea urchin down in the bottom right-hand corner (blurry but there).

Here is Claire by the sea:

and with a "blowy flower":

DH by the sea:

Jillian and I by the sea:

Once we got back to Corner Brook, the local strawberries were out (the season is later there than in Ontario so we got to experience local berries in both locations). They were really, really, really good and for a full week, this was how we saw Jillian:

I have no real reason for posting this picture other than the fact that I liked it. My aunt gave him the outfit and the visor both made me laugh hysterically and go "awwwwwwwwwwww". He became quite the dool bucket that week (and hasn't quit yet).

Princess Day

2009-08-28T09:41:00.006-04:00

Two years ago, there was a provincial election here in Ontario. During the campaign, the incumbent premiere, Dalton McGuinty promised that if he were to be reelected he would instate a provincial holiday in February called Family Day. As soon as he won the election, the date for the first Family Day was set.

This year, Claire's school made a big deal over Family Day. They did a whole unit on families and did crafts related to the event. So, as would be expected, one day Claire asked me about the holiday and what it entailed. I think she was expecting some big hoo haw like Santa at Christmas or the Easter Bunny at Easter or Valentine's cards or something...ANYTHING. DH lost one of his regular holidays to Family Day so I'm not a huge fan of the occasion. Hence, I might have been a little biased when I educated her about the day. I remember telling her that Family Day wasn't particularily special because it was a made-up holiday when people were supposed to spend time with their families.

At that point, she got sort of quiet and I could see her wheels turning but she didn't really say anything. But she kept asking about family day, even when it was over, and after a while I understood that the reason she kept asking was to hear the part about how it was a "made-up day". So, I wasn't all that surprised when one day she announced that she thought there should be another holiday in the year called "Princess Day". I wasn't sure how much she had fleshed out this idea so I asked her what was going to happen on Princess Day. Wow - did I get an earful. In a nutshell, Princess Day was to be a day where little girls had to wear fancy dresses and crowns and have their friends over to eat cookies shaped like princess stuff. She had thought so much about it that I didn't want to crush her spirit by telling her that she couldn't just make up holidays so I told her that maybe someday in the summer we could have Princess Day, thinking she'd forget.

Yeah....I was completely nuts to think the child would forget about her plans to change society with Princess Day. Once in a while she'd approach me with "Mommy, do you remember about Princess Day?". I'd assure her that I did and someday we'd try and do it. I had some vague ideas of how to make it happen for her and decided that maybe I'd make cookies some day in the summer and have her friends over to play and maybe that would be enough. I'm not a girlie, girl, pink princess sort of person so this was going to be a stretch.

Then one day, a couple of months ago, I went into Michael's and nearly tripped over a display of stuff to have a princess birthday party. Included in this display was a set of cookie cutters in a box shaped like a book. Eight cutters for a shoe, a wand, a crown, a horse, a princess, a ring, a carriage and a castle. It was pricey and so I left it there but I didn't forget.

More recently, I went to Michael's again and they had all the princess stuff on sale. I was already thinking of buying the cookie cutters and having the holiday because the summer has been dragging its sorry self along through heat and tornadoes and allergens galore. The sale tag was all I needed to spring into action. I called a friend with two little girls and made a date to have a holiday this Wednesday past.

Hosting a holiday takes a heck of a lot of work. I wanted to make it a big enough deal to keep four little girls (and one little boy) occupied for the better part of an afternoon. I warned the other mom that I would give them a healthy snack, but after that we were going to have to wallow around in a pit of refined sugar. I wanted the whole day to be cute and special and I did the best I could:

I made coloured chocolate lollipops shaped like hearts and roses:

The mothers ate the big lollipops (we deserve treats too!).

I spent the better part of Tuesday baking and decorating princess-themed cookies:

I couldn't bring myself to make horses or carriages or caricatures of princesses in gowns but I did have fun with the other shapes. It is hard to tell from the photo but the yellow and pink icings were Wilton Sparkle Gel and the girls thought that was cooooooool. I also recommend the Wilton Cookie Icing. It made some aspects of my job a lot speedier (No, I'm not affiliated with Wilton in any way but I do like their stuff).

I took the girls' little table and chairs set out onto the patio and set it with my fancy Battenburg lace tablecloth. It was a wedding present that I love but have never used. What the heck - may as well have a little fun with the thing. I also went to our local Goodwill shop and picked up some fancy cups, saucers and plates to set the table ($3.50 it cost me!). We even had an unexpected guest:

Yup, that's a frog prince! He has velcro on his hands and feet and the girls kept dancing with him. It was cute.

By mid-morning, Claire was nearly out of her skin nagging for Princess Day to begin. She thought the festivities should begin as soon as her eyes opened and end as she lay her head on her pillow that night. Mama ain't got that sort of energy, kid. So, I gave them baths with pink water (Crayola Bath Dropz) and bubbles and then we went outdoors for pedicures.

I bought that footbath when I was pregnant with Claire because I had reallllly sensitive feet and the only way I could get to sleep at night was to soak them in the hottest water I could handle with the massage action on bust. It lay dormant in my closet from then till Princess Day.

Then the friends arrived in their finest dress-up clothes (at that point my kids wanted to change into their dress up gowns instead of 'real' dresses) and we started the party. Claire served everyone chocolate milk from teh teapot while they ate blueberries and strawberries with cream:

Can't you almost feel the concentration?

My girls never get to drink out of cups with handles (or even cups that aren't plastic) so they felt quite grown up. Jillian was hilarious. She would bury her face in her cup, slurp out milk, lower her cup, swallow and then go "ahhhh" as if that was a posh, princessy thing to do:

Gulp, swallow, ahhhh. Her milk mustache was fantastic.

They ate two cookies each and then got to make necklaces with their names on them:

The big girls had more fun with that than the little ones but they did it quite independently and the other mom and I got to talk like adults while they strung beads.

All too soon it was time for their friends to go home. Claire didn't really feel ready to stop eating junk so I handed out ring pops with strict orders for them to eat them at the table and not move till I scrubbed them off:

All in all it was a fantastic day and one that we will remember for a long time. Heck, if Mr. McGuinty can make up holidays - why can't we!?

A Bedtime Snack

2009-08-27T19:53:00.007-04:00

Claire recently learned how to use the water dispenser on our refrigerator. This makes me happy beyond compare. Honestly. Really, really, really delighted. This newfound independence has effectively deleted one of the many duties that I perform in my role as lady-in-waiting to future Oscar Award Winning Actress Jillian and President, Founder, and The Boss of You (and don't you ever forget it) Claire. Now, whenever they approach me with choruses of "Mommy-ah?" (the "ah" at the end is how I know they're about to ask for something), I can say "There are cups on the counter. Claire? You can get water for yourself and your sister". And she does it. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

One day she asked permission to put ice in the water. She is a little bit afraid of the scrunchy, grinding noise the ice maker makes so I was surpised she wanted to use that but I'm all about conquering fears so I let her. She pressed the button for ice, turned her head, closed her eyes and pushed. Because she held the cup too low (and wasn't looking), cubes of ice shot violently out of the fridge, shattered onto the floor and the shards spiralled all around the kitchen. I gotta tell ya - getting plunked on the head and shoulders by ice cubes wasn't my daughter's idea of a good time. Mine either. Like my mother before me, spills make me crazy. When things spill in this house I feel compelled to to hold my breath till I empurple while I search for my inner happy place. No reason for that sort of reaction really. Spills just seems like an unnecessary use of resources and elbow grease. I considered forbidding ice but since she had been so brave about it I gave her a lesson on just how to hold the cup to get the ice in there and how if she spilled even a fraction of a fraction of a cube she was to put it into the sink as fast as she could so our feet wouldn't get wet hours later. Things have been better since then.

Lately we've been noticing that Jillian almost always has her hands in her drinks. We are always telling her that it isn't mannerly to do such things and tell her to cut it out. She is a pretty good kid and will stop doing it, at least for a few minutes. I couldn't figure out why she only did it with some drinks at some meals and recently it hit me. She is trying to fish out the ice cubes.

Turnes out that Jillian dearly loves ice cubes. She likes how they slip and slide between her fingers and, being the thrill seeker she is, I think she gets a charge out of holding one in her hands and saying "it's really really really really cooooooooooold". I won't let her put her hands into her beverages but once in a while I'll let her do little science experiments with ice cubes and when it starts getting messy, I confiscate the works of it and that's the end.

Now, since Claire started doling out drinks, Jillian gets a bit more say in what she gets. Tonight, after dinner, she must have asked Claire for a cup of ice and received it. When I caught up with them, Jillian was doing this:
-
Snacking on ice cubes. She isn't sucking on them. She's chewing them. They make a horrible crunching/squeaking sound as she bites and she honestly has to steel herself to actually bit through the ice:

In the space of three minutes, she crunched and munched and chewed her way through half a cup of ice cubes and told me how they were yummy and that she loved them. I fear for her teeth (and my sanity). My own teeth ache just to type about it. Brrrr.

Baby Blankets

2009-08-14T13:10:00.005-04:00

I think I was an odd kid. I always did my own things my own ways. As much as I loved being a kid, I didn't act like a child very often. I sought the company of adults and despised other kids (sweet, eh?). I didn't get attached to things or routines the way a lot of kids do. I didn't even play with toys all that much. I preferred a box of crayons, a ream of blank paper and my imagination over any Barbie doll or structured activity. I didn't have a favourite bear or doll or a thing I had to drag with me wherever I went. I was pretty much Vulcan from the start - practical, serious and not particularily emotional (I think Claire is a lot like I was).

That being said, I had a blanket that I really liked. It was pink and woven with a patterened, satin border. It wasn't a security blanket though. I didn't need to have it to go to sleep or rub the binding when I was nervous. Nope, that blanket was a tool, plain and simple. It kept me warm while I watched TV in the basement in the winter and I remember wrapping it around my head to pretend I had long hair. I wrapped stuff up in it and dragged it around the house so I'd only have to make one trip from the bedroom to the living room to play.

Given the way I was, it surprises me that I have always entertained this romantic notion that knitting blankets for my babies is a good idea. I pictured them snuggled safely under the blankets as infants and then being attached to them and toting them around during their toddler years. I thought of how I would have to repair the blankets when they became worn from all that love so they wouldn't be sad. I even imagined packing them up when they finally tired of them and bringing them out years down the road to show them. I even deluded myself into thinking that they would cherish these things and appreciate the work I put into the projects.

When I was pregnant with Claire, I made her a blanket. I used to lay her on it a lot when she was an infant and I have tonnes of photos of her with it as the backdrop:

It was a fun knit - Paton's Pattern Book "Baby's Little Blankets", Simple Star Stitch blanket.

When she didn't get attached to the blanket in the way I dreamed, one would suppose that I wouldn't want to knit for any subsequent babies. Nay, no so. When Jillian was born, I decided that she deserved the same thing that her sister got and even though she was late getting it, she got a blanket too. Besides, she was a fairly cuddly little thing and I thought she had the potential to get attached to something. She did get attached to something - her pink squishy doll "Dolla", and her thumb. The blanket was in her life but not essential:

It was a simple patten of my own devising made out of Sirdar Sublime and, regardless of how she felt about the thing, I loved it. Unfortunately, it befell a horrible fate when she was about 20 months old (click here to read that story if you are curious).

After having two babies who didn't really love their blankets, did I quit? Nope. I made TWO blankets for the boy-child. I made the monkey blanket for him, mainly because I thought the pattern was too cool not to make. Long before the monkeys (just after we found out we were expecting a boy), I started in on the OpArt blanket for him. I finished it before he was born but I never blogged about it because I a) hadn't taken photos and b) hadn't blocked it. I still haven't blocked it but last night I took photos of him on the blanket. Here he is:

Ignore the drool spot over his shoulder. He had 'tummy time' on the blanket and licked it a few times before I broke out the camera.

It is a neat pattern. The only downside is that it is made from the inside out and the rows get realllly long and realllly boring wayyyy before the blanket is done. The need for severe blocking also ended up being a downside for me but that was my own fault. I made this out of Sirdar Baby Bamboo and I'm fairly certain that even with a wickedly severe blocking, it isn't going to retain a square shape. The yarn is just too drapey (if I end up being wrong, I'll let you know). See the strange shape:

It was an interesting yarn to knit with though. It retained my body heat really well when I was knitting on it but within moments of putting it down, it would cool right off (to the point that it was cold to the touch). It also has elasticity like I've never seen before. Daniel used to like being swaddled and, in any other blanket, I could wrap him like a little burrito and he wouldn't go anywhere. With this thing, he can flail around inside his little bamboo coccoon all he wants, it just stretches when he does. It is also a blanket with weight. If this blanket is on me, I know it. In fact, when Daniel was a newborn, just laying it on him would prevent him from flicking around very much. Nowadays, if I put it over him, he picks up the edges and pulls it over his head or tosses his legs in the air and makes a little bamboo tent of it. He seems to like it as much as any baby his age likes anything. Do I think he's going to love it forever and drag it around like Linus? No. I don't kid myself like that anymore. These are, after all, MY kids and it seems like the apples haven't fallen too far from the tree.

A Conversation in My Kitchen

2009-08-13T12:24:00.002-04:00

Ok, I'll admit it. Summer is kicking my butt. We had a great summer vacation but I think the girls had the best time of all. There were a thousand things to do and they had all sorts of relatives visiting them and doting over them all the time. There was never a dull moment.

Since we've been back home, things have gone downhill fast. DH has been in and out of town so it's pretty much me and them all the time. They are bored with their stuff and tired of one another's company and are generally going bonkers. Subsequently, I am becoming tired and impatient. I have enrolled them in swimming lessons. I put them in day camp from time to time so we can get a break from each other. I've set up as many play dates and outings as I can manage with Daniel in tow. I'm trying. But I'm failing.

They don't think too much of me these days either. Apparently, I am the one thing standing between them and the time of their lives. That great time would pretty much look like two girls gazing vacantly at Playhouse Disney from fortresses made of Oreos, gummi bears and crackers of all ilk. They have become focussed on food and television and will pester me from daylight till dark for snacks and shows. Every sentence that comes from their mouths is delivered in "outdoor voice" and starts with "Mommmmmmmmy-ahhhhhh?" (which is the way I know it is going to be a nagging request) or "Claire/Jillian won't let me/told me/hit me".

Honestly, from the time their eyes open till their eyes close they nag. I set up elaborate activites I think will keep them going for an hour or so but last about 10 minutes before they are back at the pestering. I set up an outing I think will be fun and they moan about the weather or some other trivial issue within three minutes of leaving the house. I'm out of ideas and there is still almost a month till school starts.

I don't blame them for being done with me. I don't blame me for being done with them. Honestly. I expected summer would look kind of like this so I'm not alarmed. I'm just trying to stay as patient as I can and understand that to three- and four-year-old kids a summer stretches on for a lifetime and coming up with ways to keep busy is hard. That being said, I must be much less together than normal and I'm sure I sound like a broken record to them. I just had this conversation with Jillian:

Jillian: Can I do a puzzle?
Me (dealing with Daniel): Sure. Just gimme a sec and I'll get you one.
Jillian: I want a puzzle.
Me: Uh-huh
Jillian: Mommy, get me a puzzle.
Jillian: Can I have a puzzle?
Jillian: Puzzle.
Me: Jillian? You are nagging! What has nagging ever gotten you?

The standard response to this question is "nothing" and I find it helps the girls see that they are nagging and makes them stop it. It is often followed up by Mommy Tirade 11a which starts with "patience is a virtue" and ends a little later with "besides, nagging is rude" (it's closely related to Mommy Tirade 11b which is about "when Mommy is talking on the telephone..."). Today, the answer was a bit more interesting:

Jillian: Well, usually nothing but sometimes it gets me in trouble.

Yup. I think it's about time I start in on those Oreo fortresses. I wonder if peanut butter or honey would make a better mortar to keep 'em together?

She's lucky she's cute:

Posing with her bandage.

Newfoundland Vacation Week 1

2009-08-11T12:37:00.003-04:00

The first week of our vacation this year was probably the calmest one. We were lucky enough to have a lot of family around that week and so we spent most of our time close to home, enjoying the company of people we don't get to see as frequently as we'd like. There were some highlights of the week though:

Pretty much as soon as we got to Newfoundland, I got to meet my friend's baby. We spoke on the phone a lot anyway but from the last month or so of Daniel's pregnancy till the day I got to Newfoundland we spoke daily. I couldn't wait to get my hands on that baby and the day we got to Newfoundland, Candy came over to my parent's house to make the introductions. I was instantly smitten (I think he liked me too since I smelled like breastmilk). The following day I the honour and privilege of becoming his Godmother. He got to wear the dress his mother wore. He was such a good little fella through the whole ceremony. Here I am in church with the wee darling:

He's nine weeks younger than Daniel and that makes a HUGE difference. Daniel, who always seemed like my little baby, suddenly seemed like a giant:

We also got to celebrate Jillian's actual birthday while we were there. She was very aware that her party in Ontario was not on her birthday and that she was still two when she was eating her Mickey Mouse cake. On her birthday she got to go to the park and ride on the see saw with her sister. Parks are far less crowded there than here. It was nice:

Claire on the ride:

That evening we had a little party for her at my mother's house. Mom was nice enough to go out and get some decorations to make the event festive and we all had a nice time:

Blow, Jilla, blow! I still can't believe she's three.

Claire was fascinated by the party blowers. We got to eat Mary Browns fried chicken for dinner. Mmmm...they make it so much better in Newfoundland.

Even Daniel got into the spirit of things:

The girls spent some time learning to play hopscotch:

Jillian had a fancy style going on.

We celebrated Canada Day:

Well, we honestly did not do much but put on our Canada shirts and sing a few rounds of the national anthem. The organized events were packed with people and I thought it might not be very smart to take the kids into a huge crowd.

The weather was really great and so we also had some fun in the backyard:

The girls both got really good at blowing bubbles by themselves.

Daniel and I chose to stay in the shade:

Unfortunately, the horseflies were there too. I got chewed up by the little monsters.

That first week was really relaxing. It does not make for an exciting blog post but it was a week we all needed desperately.

I'll Try Anything Twice

2009-08-07T13:03:00.004-04:00

Generally, I try to make it a life philosophy to try anything twice. Not once - twice. I figure that the first time I do anything, my experience may be coloured by circumstances within or beyond my control.

Sushi is a good example. The first time I tried sushi I didn't enjoy it. I have a lot of texture issues when it comes to food and raw fish fell firmly into my "this feels gross in my mouth" category. I tried it for the first time at the terminus of a very long drive through Ontario to Montreal in sweltering July heat. The restaurant, after that drive, felt way too cold to me and I was uncomfortable. I was tired, I was crabby and I didn't want to be trying new things. I wanted to eat chocolate and fall into a soft bed. I admitted that my first impression of sushi was bad and I think I even grumbled about it. A lot of people would have sworn off the stuff forever but I said I'd try it again before I made up my mind for sure.

The second time I tried it, I was in a much better mood. I was, again, in Montreal but I had been there for a day or two and was settled in. We had spent the day on the town, skating on an outdoor rink, shopping and watching the end of the Santa Claus parade (I love that Santa went down Rue Sainte-Catharine yelling "Joyeux Noel Etienne! Merry Christmas Sarah! Happy Holidays Elizabeth" just knowing that he was filling select children with feelings of awe and wonder). I still didn't like the sushi much but I was much more reasonable about it and much better able to pinpoint what I didn't like and why. If I ever have to go to a sushi place again, I won't go home hungry. I won't tuck into my food with a great deal of zeal, but I'll manage.

For as many stories I can tell about things I didn't like both times, I have others of things I liked both times or liked once, hated the second time and had to do a third time to know for sure. 'Rash' is not a word people often use to describe me.

However, when it comes to knitting, I am NOT a girl who tries things twice. I fall deeply and passionately in love with a new project, cast it on, knit with glee and then show people what I'm making and tell them how smart I am. If I don't get angry with it and stuff it into the space behind my chair or fall out of love and banish the thing to my basement, I finish it.

Half the time when I knit, I'm doing it to learn something new or to show myself that I can do something that looks tricky and when it is done, I don't need to do it again. I know some people make the same project over and over and over again but I'm not that lady. I'm a "been there, done that" sorta knitter. Till now.

Back when I was making Daniel's monkey blanket I showed it to anyone who would look at it. I'd tell them how smart I thought the design was and I'd turn it this way and that, waiting for people to oooh and ahhh appropriately (it didn't always happen but I tried). I was so in love with the project that I did the lion's share of it in 12 days. That's fast knitting for a heavily pregnant woman with two kids under five.

The danger of waggling my knitting in front of everyone who will look at it is that someone is eventually bound to love it as much as I do and lust after the thing. My friend Candy ('friend' is not an appropriate word, we've known each other since Grade Six and are more like sisters we picked for ourselves than friends) was 10 weeks behind me in her pregnancy. Every time I'd fire up the webcam and force her to look at the blanket-in-progress she would make little noises of desire. She hinted that I make her one and I immediately answered with a big ol' "this is too much work to do again...I love ya babe but no dice".

A couple of weeks passed, Daniel arrived and I used that blanket everywhere I went. Knitters and non-knitters alike petted it and told me how great it was. By then, the memories of the knitting of the blanket had faded (or had been trampled by the pain of labour) and the idea of making one for Candy didn't seem so horrid anymore. And besides, what sort of human am I if I am unwilling to knit a great blanket for the girl who a) was finally getting the baby she and her husband had wanted for so long b) I grew up with and love like family.

Then she sent me this picture of the newly-painted nursery:

Before I knew it I was up at the yarn store, standing at the wall of Cascade 220, matching colours to the room. Between the kids and the upcoming vacation, I didn't have a lot of time but in what little I had I managed to make a second monkey blanket. Together with a bunch of other monkey stuff I found, it turned into a pretty neat baby gift. I didn't get a chance to block it before I gave it away so you'll have to excuse the rippling border:

Monkey side:

Ring side:

I have to admit that I think I liked this colourway better than the original one. The colours just popped on the dark brown background and the whole thing looked really classy. I think my ability to knit this project twice had a lot to do with the fact that it is a stranded project. I could do stranded knitting all day and all night and never get bored. Stranded work goes so quickly for me. I need to knit just one more row to see how it'll look, then three more rows to see the full pattern, then 24 more rows to see what the next repeat of the pattern will add to it, and before I know it the whole thing is done.

Candy liked it and even though it was summer, she used it on the baby a fair amount (evenings are cool in Newfoundland). I'm really glad I made it. She was a happy momma and the baby is so cute he deserved it (and he can pretty much ask me to knit him ANYTHING and I'll crumble). Just look how cute:

No more monkey blankets though. Two was plenty. I tried it twice and I liked it but I'm done now. Let's knit something new!

Resistance is Futile...

2009-08-05T16:50:00.002-04:00

...you will be assimilated (and drooled upon):

This guy is a complete charmer. He's got me under his spell for sure (and he'd have you too if you could hang out with him for a bit).

Our whole family went on vacation to Newfoundland at the end of June and only returned last week. When I went I decided to sort of unplug for a while. I watched almost no TV (I didn't need to hear all about Michael Jackson anyway), read no blogs and didn't surf the internet other than to order reprints of photos. I did check my email and update my facebook status on occasion but otherwise it was me, my family, my camera and Newfoundland. It was awesome.

I'm going to try to post a week by week review of the vacation for the sake of posterity (and maybe to lure a few tourists to the island). I'm hoping to get started on that in the next few days but till then - see how my boy has grown!?

Jillian's Birthday Party

2009-06-21T21:52:00.006-04:00

Miss Jillian will be three on the 28th but this Saturday but we had her party yesterday as it was more convenient for all involved. She is very aware that she isn't three quite yet but she was more than willing to have the party a bit early.

My cousin Tanya started sending Jillian a birthday dress on her first birthday and now she sends both girls dresses this time of year for the party. I managed to get them to stop bouncing off the walls long enough to pose in them:

That Jillian is such a ham.

She loved that dress. She loved that if she twirled it would go up and out a little bit and she insisted I take pictures of her twirling. Here she is mid-twirl:

Back in November, right after Claire's party, Jillian decided that on her next birthday she wanted a Mickey Mouse cake. Luckily for me, I was able to borrow a pan from my friend Kate's mom (thanks a million Joan). Here it is:

I'd love to take all the credit for making this reasonable facsimile of Mickey Mouse but really, I was more the sous-chef than the big kahuna in this endeavor. Kate has some mad cake decorating skills and she was kind enough to come out and join me in the festival of frosting. We didn't finish the decorating till 1 AM and were both so full of icing we were sort of jittery. Goooood times. Here's Kate enjoying her customary Daniel squish:

The birthday girl was really delighted about Mickey:

I still can't believe she's three. Where'd that time go?

Her favourite two presents were the pyjamas with the panda bears on them (to replace her beloved 24 month size 'whale' pyjamas that I was having to squish her into nightly) and her Melissa & Doug slice and bake cookie set. She played with it from the time she opened it till she went to bed. I 'ate' so many wooden cookies that I'm lucky not to have splinters in my lips (not really...the pieces are very smooth). Here she is taking them out of the 'oven' (aka 'box'):

Here she is serving them up:

The toy is really neat because the pieces all have velcro so if you stick the doughs together the child has to cut it apart with the little wooden knife and then put them on the pan. They stick to the pan with velcro and the icings velcro on. It takes just the right amount of strength to scrape them off the pan with the spatula. Loads of fun.

She also got a sandwich making set (also Melissa & Doug) and Claire made a sandwich with all the toppings to eat. My flash failed when I took this picture and this was the best save I could get without too much thought:

She got another really cool present from Anne but I have to take pictures...wait till you see what she came up with!

Even Mr. Daniel had fun hanging out with the celebrities:

Yet another birthday come and gone. The years keep rollin' by....

Conversations in the Doctor's Office

2009-06-18T12:59:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, I took Jillian for her three-year check-up. She is, as we expected, healthy as can be. We had a very personable resident do the examination instead of our regular doctor and Daniel, of course, was along for the ride. While we were there, I was party to not one but TWO noteworthy conversations:

#1:
Doctor: So...what's your name?
Jillian: I'm Jillian! This is my brother Daniel and that's Renée...but call her "Mommy".

#2:
Jillian (thinking she has to have a medical issue to be at the doctor's office): My foot hurts.
Doctor (playing along and noticing a little chaffed spot from those too-tight shoes she insists on wearing): Oh yes. Look at that! Does that hurt?
Jillian (big dramatic pout): Oh yes!
Doctor: Do you need a bandage on that, you think?
Jillian: Oh yes! My other foot hurts too...
Doctor: Oh my. There's a little mark on this one too. Does that one need a bandage too?
Jillian: (still with the pout) I think so.
Doctor: Ok...so there are no issues with her verbal skills...
Me (laughing): Nope. Not a one.
Jillian (realizing the attention has shifted from her): Ohhhhhh...my arm hurts toooo!
Me: Jillian - your arm doesn't hurt.
Jillian: My leg hurts.
Me: Enough Jillian. Nothing on you hurts.
Jillian (to doctor - her eyes as wide as saucers): My sister? She HITS me!
Me: Uh huh...tell him the whole story.
Jillian (busted - now gazing at lap): Ok...I hit her too.

I'm not sure where she came from but she is headed straight for Broadway!

Forget the Solstice...Summer is Here Now!

2009-06-16T14:00:00.003-04:00

I don't care what you say - THIS is the first day of summer. I have evidence to prove it:

A kid eating a quickly melting fudgsicle on the back patio.

I recently found a really great new thing called a Dripstik. They hold popsicles and ice cream cones and have little bowls around them to catch the drips. I bought one for each of the girls and they work really well. However, Jillian decided she really, really wanted to turn her treat sideways and ditched the Dripstik. By the time I figured that out, this was how she looked. I couldn't stop her. She was having too much fun and was already about as dirty as she could get.

Believe it or not, Miss Jillian will be three years old next weekend. I don't know where those
years went. We are having a very small party for her this weekend and she's very excited.

May as well update about the other kidlets too...

Here's Claire at the park:

I have noticed a huge change in Claire from last year in terms of her behaviour at the park. She's more fearless and does a lot more climbing and jumping and swinging than before. It actually seems like she gets a bit of exercise when we take her to the park now. Before it was just an outing.

Some of the things Claire says these days are amazing. We never know what's going to come out of her mouth. Yesterday, for example, I sat down to do her hair before school. I got out my big black paddle brush to brush her hair and she told me she wanted me to use a wimpy pink comb she found. I told her no and kept going with the reasonable brush and she got sort of mad at me.
To distract her, I asked how she wanted her hair done. She didn't answer me. I repeated myself. Again, she didn't answer me but she did poke her index finger into one temple and then the other. I asked what she was doing and she repeated her actions. At that point, I gathered that she was trying to tell me that she wanted a ponytail on each side of her head but was too mad with me to talk. Well, I wasn't about to go along with THAT so I told her I had no idea what she was getting on with but if she didn't use her voice I was going to choose her hairstyle for the day. At that point she sighed heavily and said "Mommy. I was using body language to tell you that I wanted a ponytail on each side". At that point half of me wanted to laugh my head off and the other half wanted to sell the kid on eBay. Instead, I explained that body language is a lovely thing but in this situation words would have been a better choice and besides - body language plus words is the best solution of all. Body language...sheesh.

Here is sir Daniel enjoying his new favourite hobbies a) the fisher-price aquarium bouncer and b) creating a beard of bubbles:

Wow...we really lucked out with this guy. He is such a happy, mellow baby. He almost never cries and now that he is learning to smile and giggle and coo, he's an absolute delight to have around.

About a week ago, he started putting himself to bed at night. Honestly! In the evening, he will start to fuss and none of the regular things (nursing, a ride in the swing or face to face time) will soothe him. At that point, we wrap him up tightly in his blanket, pop him into bed, put his lullaby CD on, and WHAM off to sleep he goes. If we don't recognize the "I wanna go to bed" fussing for what it is, he will ramp up and then we end up walking the floor with him until he gives up and goes to sleep (this was easier when he accepted his soother but his love of his tongue and bubble blowing mean that he won't tolerate the soother anymore). We also started to notice this self-imposed bedtime getting earlier and earlier. First it was around 9:30...then 8:30 and now it seems to have settled at around 7:30. AND - if all that wasn't enough good fortune for one woman - he started sleeping for longer stretches every night. Last night he slept for 11 hours! I am hoping and praying that he keeps this up. The unbroken sleep is wonderful and I've been a much happier person to be around.

Ok...it has taken me all day to write this. Time to hit publish and get away from it!