We made it out on the ice yesterday. Henry enjoyed towing Dexter in his sled and pretending they were a train. You can't quite make out what he's saying in this video, but basically he's setting up the train scenario, then yelling "Biff! Biff! Biff!" because the cars are "biffing buffers", a term he picked up from Thomas the Tank Engine. Dexter, as usual, is going along with whatever is going on.
I have no idea why Tom is neighing.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
A cold day, during which I actually venture outdoors
After a long spell of mild temps, we got a blast of arctic air today. The very day that I had agreed to take Henry to a winter festival at the local park. Damn you, Mother Nature! Why do you mock me so? Okay, so it turned out to be fun. Jensen came into town to join us, and by the time we ventured to the park it was "only" -11 C. Bikini weather! Seriously, it wasn't that bad, although, as usual, I was slightly under-dressed for the cold. By which I mean that I wasn't wearing snowpants, a balaclava, and knee-high snowmobiling boots like everyone else who turned up for the festival. By my own standards, I was bundled up like the Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man, but my toes and legs were numb by the time we got home.
I blame my B.C. upbringing for my reluctance to get all geared up for cold. It seems natural to me to deal with winter by refusing to acknowledge that it's cold out. It's the B.C. way. When I was in Kelowna for Christmas I saw countless people venturing out in all manner of inappropriate clothing, including shorts (shorts!), ballet flats, and bare heads, bare hands, bare whatever they could get away with. It makes sense on this level: If you want to pretend you're the California of Canada, you've got to dress the part. You can't sissy out and wear some ugly-ass parka and hair-crushing touque just because it's several degrees below freezing. Come on! They may keep you warm, but it wouldn't be cool. In Ontario, however, they actually believe in winter, and no item of winter clothing is considered too dorky, too unflattering, or too uncomfortable to don as soon as the November wind starts biting. (Well, I haven't yet seen an adult in a one-piece snowsuit, but I'm sure a short trip over the bridge to Quebec would quickly put that bit of sartorial horror in view.) The rule is, if it keeps you warm, all else is forgiven.
ANYWAY, yes, the winter festival was a real slice of Ottawa winter, and a typical example of the wholesomeness of our wholesome little neighbourhood community. A team of volunteers turn a large portion of the park into a skating rink every winter by hosing the field and grooming the ice. Every night someone goes out and does the hosing. Just so the neighbourhood kids and hockey dads can skate. So there was skating. And free hot dogs and free hot chocolate in the field house, where you could warm up for free. Also, free rides through the park on a horse-drawn sleigh. Free! Henry and I sang Jingle Bells as we dashed through the snow. Henry and Jensen had tons of fun tobogganing down the hill. And I made chit-chat with the friends I ran into and recognized even though their faces were mostly obscured by polar fleece. I knew them by their coats. I realized last year that the key to maintaining relationships with friends and neighbours during the winter months is to memorize what everyone's winter parka and/or hat looks like, as that's the only way to identify individuals in the crowds of anonymous Sta-Puff People you see when you're out and about. So lots of fun for me and the boy. Worth a few numb toes.
In other news, Henry has a cold. And this is news. Honestly, it's the first time he's been sick since well before his second birthday. He was sick constantly as a baby, but since then, nothing. Perfect health. I do remember our pediatrician in Richmond saying, as she treated him for his umpteenth ear infection/cough/stomach ailment, that once he got over all these illnesses he probably would be immune to a ton of stuff and wouldn't get sick much in later years. But I didn't believe her. My dad thinks our house in Richmond was infested with toxic mold that made us all sick. I can't discount that theory, either. Whatever the reason, it's been a nice run, but with Dexter around now, I'm sure it will not be our last cold this season.
That was quite a ramble, wasn't it? Here are some pictures of our chilly playdate. It really is a beautiful park.
I blame my B.C. upbringing for my reluctance to get all geared up for cold. It seems natural to me to deal with winter by refusing to acknowledge that it's cold out. It's the B.C. way. When I was in Kelowna for Christmas I saw countless people venturing out in all manner of inappropriate clothing, including shorts (shorts!), ballet flats, and bare heads, bare hands, bare whatever they could get away with. It makes sense on this level: If you want to pretend you're the California of Canada, you've got to dress the part. You can't sissy out and wear some ugly-ass parka and hair-crushing touque just because it's several degrees below freezing. Come on! They may keep you warm, but it wouldn't be cool. In Ontario, however, they actually believe in winter, and no item of winter clothing is considered too dorky, too unflattering, or too uncomfortable to don as soon as the November wind starts biting. (Well, I haven't yet seen an adult in a one-piece snowsuit, but I'm sure a short trip over the bridge to Quebec would quickly put that bit of sartorial horror in view.) The rule is, if it keeps you warm, all else is forgiven.
ANYWAY, yes, the winter festival was a real slice of Ottawa winter, and a typical example of the wholesomeness of our wholesome little neighbourhood community. A team of volunteers turn a large portion of the park into a skating rink every winter by hosing the field and grooming the ice. Every night someone goes out and does the hosing. Just so the neighbourhood kids and hockey dads can skate. So there was skating. And free hot dogs and free hot chocolate in the field house, where you could warm up for free. Also, free rides through the park on a horse-drawn sleigh. Free! Henry and I sang Jingle Bells as we dashed through the snow. Henry and Jensen had tons of fun tobogganing down the hill. And I made chit-chat with the friends I ran into and recognized even though their faces were mostly obscured by polar fleece. I knew them by their coats. I realized last year that the key to maintaining relationships with friends and neighbours during the winter months is to memorize what everyone's winter parka and/or hat looks like, as that's the only way to identify individuals in the crowds of anonymous Sta-Puff People you see when you're out and about. So lots of fun for me and the boy. Worth a few numb toes.
In other news, Henry has a cold. And this is news. Honestly, it's the first time he's been sick since well before his second birthday. He was sick constantly as a baby, but since then, nothing. Perfect health. I do remember our pediatrician in Richmond saying, as she treated him for his umpteenth ear infection/cough/stomach ailment, that once he got over all these illnesses he probably would be immune to a ton of stuff and wouldn't get sick much in later years. But I didn't believe her. My dad thinks our house in Richmond was infested with toxic mold that made us all sick. I can't discount that theory, either. Whatever the reason, it's been a nice run, but with Dexter around now, I'm sure it will not be our last cold this season.
That was quite a ramble, wasn't it? Here are some pictures of our chilly playdate. It really is a beautiful park.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Real life reboots
We're finally over our jetlag and all the other disruption that travel causes. Tom is back in the classroom for the first time since last April. Preschool started up again on Monday. I've got about 3 months of maternity leave left, and I'm trying to make the most of it. I'm going to "Post-Natal Boot Camp," a.k.a. the House of Pain, twice a week to help whip myself back into shape. (Well, I guess I'm not whipping myself back into shape so much as paying someone else to whip me into shape, but you get the idea.) Post-natal yoga and afternoon playgroup starts next week, so depending on the weather, I'll be tearing up the streets with my double stroller again. Hopefully by May I'll be in good enough condition to run the 10K in a decent time, which is the goal of all this activity. Plus, it would be nice to be back in my pre-pregnancy clothes before I head back to work. An entire new wardrobe in my current, "transitional" size would be expensive.
It's almost time to register Henry for Junior Kindergarten (Ontario has two years of public kindergarten), and we have to decide which of 3 schools to send him to. The issue parents around here obsess about is whether or not your kid is going to do French Immersion, and if they are, when in their schooling they're going to start ( Early French immersion starts in Senior Kindergarten). We've pretty much decided we're NOT going to do it. This puts us against the grain of most other yuppie parents here, but I have some big concerns with immersion. First, my rotten French skills mean I would be effectively cut out of Henry's school experience if he was in immersion. Second, I'm just not convinced that learning a second language should be the focus of his early school years. I mean, it's not like I don't want him to study French or some other foreign language, but all things considered, I'm more concerned about math and reading in English. Functional bilingualism is like a golden ticket in this town (since it's required to work for the government), but the fact that I've lived in many places where you can go months, if not years, without hearing anyone speak French (i.e. every other place I've ever lived) makes it hard for me to think that learning French should be the entire focus of my child's education. In a regular program they still do 20-40 minutes a day of French, and I think that's plenty for now.
ANYWAY, the issue's on my mind today because I was calling around to schools for info.
As for Dexter, he just cut his second tooth and continues to be an utterly adorable and fantastically mellow little baby.I expect him to be sitting up in the next few weeks. He's way into sucking on his toes and grasping objects to bring them up to his mouth. I could go on about how adorable he is, but I think I'll go play with him instead!
It's almost time to register Henry for Junior Kindergarten (Ontario has two years of public kindergarten), and we have to decide which of 3 schools to send him to. The issue parents around here obsess about is whether or not your kid is going to do French Immersion, and if they are, when in their schooling they're going to start ( Early French immersion starts in Senior Kindergarten). We've pretty much decided we're NOT going to do it. This puts us against the grain of most other yuppie parents here, but I have some big concerns with immersion. First, my rotten French skills mean I would be effectively cut out of Henry's school experience if he was in immersion. Second, I'm just not convinced that learning a second language should be the focus of his early school years. I mean, it's not like I don't want him to study French or some other foreign language, but all things considered, I'm more concerned about math and reading in English. Functional bilingualism is like a golden ticket in this town (since it's required to work for the government), but the fact that I've lived in many places where you can go months, if not years, without hearing anyone speak French (i.e. every other place I've ever lived) makes it hard for me to think that learning French should be the entire focus of my child's education. In a regular program they still do 20-40 minutes a day of French, and I think that's plenty for now.
ANYWAY, the issue's on my mind today because I was calling around to schools for info.
As for Dexter, he just cut his second tooth and continues to be an utterly adorable and fantastically mellow little baby.I expect him to be sitting up in the next few weeks. He's way into sucking on his toes and grasping objects to bring them up to his mouth. I could go on about how adorable he is, but I think I'll go play with him instead!
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Elves on strike
We're back in Ottawa, house-bound by snow and freezing temps. We're bored. Henry's bugging me to play "Elves" with him (inspired by the movie Rudolph), but the house is a mess and I want to do some cleaning. Here's my attempt to harness his energy to my purposes:
"Okay Henry, I'll play Elves, but instead of building toys, let's be Elves that sweep the hall floor!"
[Pause]
"Mommy, let's play that THIS elf is on vacation."
Damn. He's finally big enough to be useful, but he's no longer gullible enough to be tricked into it.
"Okay Henry, I'll play Elves, but instead of building toys, let's be Elves that sweep the hall floor!"
[Pause]
"Mommy, let's play that THIS elf is on vacation."
Damn. He's finally big enough to be useful, but he's no longer gullible enough to be tricked into it.
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