| Must haves |
Of all things missing in life, an adult-sized hoodie towel ranks high on my list of must haves. Right up there with a giant butt-hugging Bumbo chair. They could call it the Jumbo Bumbo and market it as the perfect pass out chair for drunk college kids who aren't quite able to sit up on their own.
 Labels: n, Nate, Thinking Out Loud |
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| Super Power |
I could feed my ultra thin three-year-old every last one of these cookies and he still wouldn't put on a single ounce. And do you know why? Because just ONE chocolate chip cookie fuels him with enough calorie-defying super powers to bounce off the walls and run Olympian worthy laps around the house.
  I want cookie eating super powers, too.Labels: Nate, Thinking Out Loud |
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| This |
This? This is Nate’s adorable smiling face.
 And this? This is his “charm” face. It’s the face he uses when he knows he’s in trouble and he tries to charm his way out of a situation. Whenever I see it I just want to hand him over a giant bowl of candy and my credit card.
 Labels: Nate |
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| Tradition |
I placed the box, bedazzled in pink and all things girly by the front door. I zipped up my hoodie, wrapped a scarf around my neck and as I turned to find my shoes the gravity of what that box symbolized struck me and I felt the familiar sting of grief-fueled pain well from within. “Nate, Sweet Pea, please put on your boots. It’s time to go,” cracked my voice as I willed the tears not to come.
“Is that a present for Ava Mommy?” Nate asked, his ocean-blue eyes meeting mine, full of questions yet brimming with innocent simplicity. “No Sweet Pea, Ava isn’t with us anymore. We are donating this present for another little girl because it’s a really nice thing to do.” And then he said it, and I know he doesn’t quite grasp the full meaning behind what he is saying but he followed up with, “That’s because Ava died. I miss my sister Mommy.” My breath caught in my throat as I leaned in to embrace my living child. “I do, too Sweet Pea, I do, too.”
It’s a yearly tradition. We buy a gift, something we would have given Ava for Christmas and donate it to a local Toy Drive. Ava would have been four this year, almost five actually. It saddens my heart tremendously that she isn’t here to experience the childhood magic of Christmas, but it warms my heart to know that a little girl, somewhere, someplace who may not be as fortunate as us might have an opportunity to experience a piece of the magic my daughter never will.
 Labels: In Memory of Ava, Nate |
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| My Superman |
This year, Nate was dressed up as Superman for Halloween. It wasn’t a strategic choice or anything, it was totally the only costume that fit at the consignment shop because that is just how I role. Yes, I accept hand-me-downs and shop second hand for children’s clothes because I just can’t justify spending $30 on name brand toddler jeans that he will outgrow in a week. Or, I guess in Nate’s case a year, because dear lord my almost three year old still fits in 18 month sizes.
So, yeah, his costume cost all of $6.00 and when I brought it home the smile on his face alone was worth every penny (and more.)
And irony of all ironies, Nate is absolutely my little superman in every possible way.
 Labels: Nate |
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| I blame the butterflies |
Every now and then I like to blame things that happen in my life on the likelihood that the vibrations of the Universe shifted some random nebula’s interstellar dust cloud off balance and then a speck of it hits Earth and because it was traveling at, oh, what? A bazillion trillion times the speed of light it caused our pretty little planet to tilt ever so slightly off its axis and ultimately, that damn nebula is responsible for my kid’s meltdown because we do not have any chips in the house.
I guess that sounds kind of like The Butterfly Effect, too. You know how you might have a kid that is at that tender stage where he is afraid of the dark but you can still manage to rock him to sleep at night because you are his mommy and even though you cannot sing worth crap its sounds beautiful to your child. But then, as you’re singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for the 100th time, across the world there is this beautiful little gossamer butterfly somewhere in Thailand that gently flutters its wings sending an innocent wisp of a breeze drifting through the air across Asia and Europe until it collides with the heated blast of some dude’s fart in France, propelling that once gentle breeze into a turbulent air mass across the Atlantic ocean where it gains momentum and inertia over such a massive body of water for a couple of weeks until it eventually hits Ajax with the biggest mother fucking storm in the history of all storms making my already afraid of the dark child scream in terror as the entire house shakes under the violently loud thunderous booms happening directly outside his bedroom window. At night. In the dark.
So yeah, after the massively crazy storm we had a few weeks ago Nate couldn’t stop asking if the Thunder was going to get him, and of course, we did our best to reassure him that thunder is only a noise outside and that there is nothing to be afraid of, but gawd, what do us parent’s know right? Because no amount of soothing or consoling and trying to assure him that thunder is not scary seemed to matter.
And to make matters worse, Nate has cathedral ceilings in this room with palladium-style windows, so there is a little section at the top of them that doesn’t have blinds and in the eyes of a two-year-old, this means that if he can see the dark, then clearly, the dark CAN SEE HIM, too, which basically means that because some stupid butterfly in Thailand decided to flap its oh so dainty little wings and cause a massive Thunderstorm in Ajax, we now have a tiny human that will not sleep on his own and insists on nestling directly between Mark and I every night, which also means that butterfly is totally responsible for the reason why Mark and I don’t get to have sex anymore.
So you know that saying, Necessity is the Mother of all Invention? Well last weekend Mark had a brilliant idea. The windows in Nate’s playroom are fully covered in blinds, so we asked Nate if he wanted to switch rooms so he could get a better night’s sleep because he wouldn’t be able to see the dark outside anymore. And by better night’s sleep, we meant we would like to resume our regularly scheduled (or not) intercourse programming.
We let him think it over for a few days and he seemed really excited about the idea so we made a BIG DEAL about the room switch, you know, telling him how proud of him we are, what a brave boy he’s being, blah blah blah.
Last night was the first night in his new Big Boy bedroom and before bed all three of us snuggled together in his Big Boy bed and told silly stories and although a bit reluctant, Nate fell asleep on his own. At least for a little while because when Mark and I went to bed a few hours later, we found Nate curled up with his blue blanket, on the floor, outside our bedroom door.
I’m pretty sure he isn’t really afraid of the dark so much as he doesn’t want to be alone; an innately profound characteristic of humanity. And how can I argue with that?Labels: Marriage, Nate |
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| M.I.A |
I owe you a huge apology, Friends. I’ve been MIA here with my writing and not a day goes by that I don’t feel guilty for not sitting down and unloading my thoughts because that’s what I love. I love writing. I love YOU! I love the fact that you take time to actually visit me here on this small corner of the internet and here I am all barely online and well, yeah, I get it, I suck.
I have a post in the works about my thoughts on returning to a full time job, something I have not done since Ava died in 2005, but for now, Mark and I are cooking homemade pasta sauce and whole wheat pasta from scratch, as in like, totally rolling out the pasta old school style and Nate is calling me to colour with him and life could not be more perfect and holy hell I’ve missed my family this week.
 Labels: All in the Family, Nate |
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| Pretty = FAIL! |
So tonight Mark, Nate and I were sitting on our porch enjoying a compelling game of “I Spy With my Little Eye,” which was really cute, actually because Mark and I would spy something green (tree) or furry (Samson) and when it was Nate’s turn to spy something for us he was all, “I spy a black car!” Or, “I spy a flower!” Talk about an efficient kid. Screw the whole suspense of guessing and just get to the point already!
Anyway, when it was Mark’s turn again, he said, “I spy something pretty. Do you see anything pretty Nate?” And he meant to be all nice and get Nate to call his Mom pretty, but do you know what Nate responded? People, my kid said he did not see anything pretty and that he needed a pair of glasses to find it.
I think that totally classifies as a FAIL!Labels: Kids Say the Cutest Things, Nate |
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| 2.5 years |
This kid, personality wise, is a carbon copy of his father. But appearance wise he could not look more like me. We both scowl when someone tries to take our picture, have unruly curls and ridiculously pale skin. The only difference is that I wear self tanners and mascara and (unfortunately) do not have friends perpetually outgrowing and handing me down stylish clothing.
 Labels: Nate |
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| Better |
We’re home and first and foremost, thank you dearly for all your kindness. I swear your words and well wishes were sanity savers during our stay at the hospital. What the hell did humanity do before smart phones?
Nate, I think, lost five pounds from his already tiny 23 lb frame not eating the hospital food they fed him and I can’t blame him because seriously, roast beef and mushy beans? Go ahead and find a two year old that will eat that. Or boiled chicken. Or fish. COME ON.
Oh, also, they didn’t even feed the parent chained in isolation to the child so I haven’t eaten in days and days and I've lost a shit load of weight and for the love of Pete, is a cup of coffee really not in the health care budget Canada? Really? Cause I've had a pretty shitty caffeine withdrawal headache for days now.
Sigh, I digress. I’m just 150,000% relieved to not be confined in a bed with a toddler attached to IV wires who does not understand the concept of REST. As in like, stop trying to nosedive off the bed and rip out your IV, dude.
Photo via HTC Touch Pro PhoneLabels: Nate |
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| Pnemonia Part II |
Dear Friends,
Please excuse my absence over the next couple of days. I am home for a brief moment to pack comfort items for Nathan for an unknown stay in hospital isolation. Seven months after a bout of pneumonia, he has it once again and is battling an uncontrollable fever continually spiking upwards of 105 F coupled with difficulty breathing and never before seen levels of lethargy, unwellness and disinterest in even his life-long love affair with milk.
I have asked my beloved friend Beth to stop in here for the next little while. In exchange she will bring me some delicious home grown herbs, and if I'm lucky, garden grown oregano and cucumbers because friends, Beth has one hell of a green thumb.Labels: Friends, Nate |
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| Uranus |
Nate keeps telling me that when he grows up he wants to be an astronaut. He even came home from daycare one day with a picture he coloured of an astronaut and Mark was so proud of it that I think he almost cried. And then he kept forgetting to bring it to put on his desk at work for like, two weeks.
This may or may not surprise you, but Mark is a huge space fanatic, which also means he's a huge Star Trek fan and I’m constantly teasing him about how much of a nerd he is, you know, between being a computer superstar ninja and saying things to me when I ask him where he put a case of beer like, “On the Mother Ship. Resistance to beer is futile."
Oh, and then there was the time when I was swooning over a Jason Statham movie and Mark interrupted the pitter patter of my beating heart to discuss something about the speed of light. Like, hello? Can you not see that the Universe should cease to exist when Jason Stathom is kicking some serious shirtless ass?
I remember when Nate was four months old Mark would woosh him through the air pretending to explore places like Planet Dog Cheese and Planet Dad Cheese before landing on my tired ass and saying, “Look who just landed on Uranus Mom!”
And since Mark recently got every episode of every Star Trek series and movie ever made, that’s about all this family watches anymore because Nate just can’t get enough “Spaceship” or his fill of “Nebabas (Nebulas.)”
Clearly my kid has a penchant for something pretty darn cool if you ask me, and although I’ll probably miss him when he travels to Mars, who am I to limit his imagination, right? So, I bought him two 12” x 12” pieces of art for his bedroom, one of an airplane and the other a rocket ship, a giant 42” diameter remote controlled light-up sun and Solar System mobile with motorized planets that hangs from the ceiling as well as an enormous 48” x 36” Solar System art canvas. He already knows where planet Earth and our moon are, and that we live in North America. And just the other day he identified Mars.
 I totally admit all the spaceship stuff looks pretty lame pair with the lamb themed baby decor, but you know, I can’t let him grow up THAT fast.Labels: Mark, Nate, Thinking Out Loud |
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| The cat who is fat |
The cat who is fat, who also does not give two shits about me or my family or pretty much anything else unless it involves the glutinous consumption of food.*
*This side note totally has nothing to do with the above caption, but I'm pretty sure a random asterisk to mention the fact that I AM GOING ABSOLUTELY CRAZY trying to sell this house makes up for the haphazard attempt to publish a post in the 4.2 seconds I have before random strangers pee in my toilet and leave the toilet seat up! Again!
Um, RANDOM DUDES? GROSS!
Also? I know it's totally my choice to sell this house, I totally do, but I just have to say it. It's an absolute nightmare trying to live in perfection EVERY! SINGLE! DAY! when all I want to do is leave that massive pile of laundry on the floor for one more week and stop windexing the perpetual dog snot off of ever single surface in the whole entire house, including nose prints on a window so high that would require the skills only a dog enrolled in the doggy Olympics could possess. Um, Hello? Why did they not cast my crazy dog Samson for the movie Marley & Me? DOOD! He's his twin long lost bad ass brother! I swear!
And maybe, just maybe, it might be nice to to finally have a cat that does not eat until his belly is thisclose to exploding before he shits and stink up the entire house accordingly seconds before a home showing.
Also? And perhaps it's not really worth mentioning at this point that my perpetual attempts at hiding a bazillion trillion toys every day causes a colossal toddler meltdown, because I'm pretty sure everyone knows that's a given, but if there's any saving grace, it's that all this chaos can be easily rectified with a McDonald's French Fry. And, well, that and a secret penchant that one day my skinny two-year-old will weigh more than my cat.Labels: From House to Home, Nate |
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| Superhero |
The only Superhero on the planet who demands endless sippy cups filled with milk, being chased around the room again and again and again to infinity and beyond (so help my poor weary soul), endless tickling and jelly bean-infused giggles.
 Labels: Nate |
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| Intensity |
I just got home from the most treacherous ride of my life. And I am not exaggerating in the slightest. This morning Nate and I headed out under sunny skies to make the two hour drive North where he will be staying with his Grandparents for the next ten nights and I swear, as soon I was out of the city limits, the sky turned ominous and dark and all of a sudden all I could see was white, everywhere, and oh my god, where is the road?
While navigating the slippery slope of snow-coated roads, I kept remembering this horrible accident that I read about. Or maybe I saw a tribute on You Tube, I can’t remember for sure, but the life of a mother and father where shattered when a transport truck, unable to stop in time, rammed into their van from behind instantly killing their three children.
That story just haunts me to the depth of my core and knowing that I was carrying precious human cargo in the back while inching through the white-out of a blustery snowstorm made me feel so, so, intense about it all. I mean, man oh man, could I survive the death of another child? I’m not certain my heart is capable of that.
At one point when visibility was minimal, at best, I noticed there were no cars in the southbound lanes and after several minutes of driving I saw the police cars and ambulances and fire trucks blocking the road from any oncoming traffic. There was a horrible accident. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and dared not even take my eyes off the road for one second to steal a glance back at my sleeping toddler.
And almost just like that, we were out of the storm, and when I pulled over to call my Father-in-Law, I realized that my entire body was trembling and even though I shouldn’t have, I crawled in the back and gently stroked Nate’s cheek until he woke up and I told him that mommy really needed a hug and a kiss.
And then all was fine with the world again.Labels: Motherhood, Nate |
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