The Bright Side

Esmé was playing with buttons from my sewing kit button jar, and kept accidentally dropping them on the floor.  As she crawled under the table to pick them up for the hundredth time, she called out to me,  "I'm such a good dropper!"

That was the best positive spin I've ever heard.

Us

A HUGE Thank you to my pregnant photographer, Sarah Evans, who at one point was actually lying on the sidewalk, camera in hand.  It was a struggle to decide which photos to post, they were all so beautiful I just wanted to upload them all!

Turkey Strike

This year for Canadian Thanksgiving I cleaned, dressed, and cooked a large turkey.  Even though it turned out great, I was emotionally scarred by the huge bird carcass and told Kyle that next time he had to do the cleaning and dressing.

We had bought two turkeys while they were at a good price so decided to cook one up for American Thanksgiving as well.  And so now it was Kyle's turn.  He only got to the cleaning part before he had to quit, now also emotionally scarred by Big Bird's dismembered neck and large folded wings.

I guess we will be having vegetarian Thanksgivings from now on...  unless we can later convince our kids to clean and cook the turkey for their wimpy parents!

Happy Birthday Esmé!

When I asked Esmé what she wanted to do for her birthday this year, she had only three requests.  Friends, balloons, and chocolate cake with sprinkles.  Done.

She is such a socialite (whose daughter is she anyway??) and loves playing with friends so much that I bet she'd even choose a playdate over Disneyland.  So having her friends come over to eat chocolate cake and play with balloons was pretty much her dream party.  She was absolutely ecstatic the whole day.  Happy Birthday to our little 3 year old!

Banff

Kyle and I took a very lovely vacation last month to Banff.  We dropped off Esmé at Grandma and Grandpa's in Vernon (thank you Anne and Rick!!) for her very first sleepover, where she spent 5 days away from home and from us!  She had a great time at Grandma's house, frequenting the ponds and playgrounds, the apple orchard, visiting cousins, and of course, Starbucks.  Mostly just getting plenty of love and more attention I'm sure than she ever gets!

I don't think that she realized that she missed us until we got back.  As soon as she saw us she made strange half laugh, half cry sounds while clinging to me with all four of her limbs.  And as expected we had a week of adjustment when we got home, some days harder than others!

But overall, we were so thankful for our time away as a real adult married couple.  Like our friend Tracy said, "We realized that we are actually still fun people!"  We filled our days with some beautiful hikes, signed up for a week of yoga, treated ourselves to massages, lounged in coffee shops, and enjoyed the beauty of the Rockies.  It was a perfect retreat as we prepare for this next phase of our life.

Halloween

Little Red Riding Hood, Drag Grandmother, and the Big Bad Pregnant Wolf

(Esmé assigned the roles.)

Jumping Into It Again, But Times Two

I've heard that having two kids is much harder than one.  A German friend of mine told me that there is a saying in German that translates as, "Having only one child is like having no children."  Thanks, but there's really no going back now.

We know what it's like to have a new baby, so this time we are not in the innocent fog of new parent naivety, waiting for our angel baby to come quietly into this world saying, "Yes, Mama, I'll let you sleep some more.  I'll let you take a shower, get dressed, and feel like a normal human.  And I'll even follow what every parenting book says I should be doing at this age so that you'll know exactly what to expect from me."

So we are rolling up our sleeves for the big jump into babyhood, now combined with toddlerhood, ready this time for what comes.  But not ever really ready.

Kind of like this:



P.S. Some have asked, my estimated due date is mid December.  I am hoping for a 12/12/12 baby. ;)

Short Circuit

I think there has been a recent short circuiting in my child's brain.  She has always been a great listener and inherited her father's bat ears (as in acute, not pointy).  But recently her ears have not been picking up the frequency of my voice.  At first I thought it was a problem with her hearing and I even gave them a good cleaning with a Q-tip in case of wax build-up.  But her attention span is now measured in microseconds and every single thing I say has to be repeated several times.  Even if she's the one that asked me a question in the first place!

Esmé: Is it naptime or bedtime?
Me: It's bedtime.
E: Whatjasay? (startled that I had started talking, forgetting she asked me a question)
Me: Bedtime.
E: What mom?
Me: Bedtime.
E: Nextime?
Me: No, remember you asked me if it's bedtime or naptime? BEDtime!

Me: Please go tell Uncle Nick dinner is ready.
E: Whatjasay?
Me: Go tell Nick spaghetti is ready.
E: (Starts playing in a box.)
Me: Esmé, please tell Nick dinner is ready
E: Set the table?
(How does that even sound similar??)

My patience is thin and I've mostly resorted to hand gestures and one word sentences spoken very loudly.

Pretty Cat

I have so many pictures I want to post (birthdays, vacations, my belly!) but Kyle took off to Philadelphia with the camera before I had a chance to upload them!  So you will have to wait a couple weeks.  Until then, here is our cat, decorated with all of Esmé's jewellery and a bra.  Doesn't he look like he loves life?
(P.S. We miss you Papa!)

First Day of School

Enamoured with preschool, she runs from me and toward her class as I yell after her, "Don't forget to give me a hug goodbye!"  A hug that is more for her mama than for her.  And in that moment there is a change.  This little one who was once my girl, is now a girl.  Lost in the crowd of other children and teachers.  She is now her own, in an independent world that is not mine, that I have no part of.  She hangs up her backpack and sits down with the other kids.  I try to catch a last glimpse of her as I head out the door.  She is so tall.  So content.  So sure.  I burst with pride and let the outside breeze dry my eyes.

Tell It Like It Is

Esmé came in from outside with a half dead ant on her finger, its leg still twitching.
E: "Look, Mama, I caught an ant!"
Me: "Um, it looks like it's dead."
E: "No, I think it's just pretty tired.  I'm going to take it for a walk now."

Dragonoid Fridgsmith

For the second time in a row, we had a great boy's name all picked out and then found out we are having a girl.  Now we are searching for a name again, and are ready for your suggestions!  Send them our way when you think of them.  (If it starts with a 'K' or even a 'C' you get bonus points.)

Out of the suggestions we have had already, Dragonoid is the very feminine name suggested to us by Lawrence, age 8.  And Fridgsmith is actually the first name of my 12th great-grandmother from Stonehenge, c. 1600.  This is true, I'm not even joking.

Bookworm

Sometimes I see a glimpse of a much older Esmé.  Small moments that reveal so much about her personality and what type of person she'll grow to be.  Two is a fun age, but I'm really excited to know her as she gets older.  I can only imagine that my adoration of her will grow over time as she discovers the world and herself.  As she learns how to fit in and stand out, how to love and to fight, and how to fill the space around her.

This moment here: sprawled on her bed, nose in a book, legs swinging.  My little teenager.

Kites and Ice Cream

Tell It Like It Is

As Esmé's vocabulary has been increasing, she has started to say such funny things.  I've been really excited for this stage because I love hearing all the silly and clever things that come out of young kids' mouths.  Although Esmé is nowhere near coming up with the gems like my LovelyMonkey nephews, I'd like to remember some of my favourites.

Kyle: "Do you want to go swimming today?"
Esmé: "But the water's cold."
K: "Do you still want to go?"
E: "Sure! I'll just wear a sweater."

E: "Mom, can you eat like a dinosaur like this?"
I try a bite.
E: "Good job, Mom!  But keep practicing."

A man gets on the elevator and has one of those moustaches that curl up on the ends.  Esmé points to the man and yells: "Look, Mom! That man is funny!" Awkward elevator ride to follow.

Early in my pregnancy when I was nauseous and threw up for the first time, Esmé was quite intrigued.  I don't think she had seen me or anyone else throw up before.  So she stood right next to me making observations.
Esmé: "Mom, you are coughing into the toilet?"
Me: Ack, cough, "No, honey," gag, "I'm barfing."
E: "Oh, you're barfing like a cat?"
Me: Gag, "No, it's not a hairball."
She watches me for a bit and then strokes my shoulder, "It's okay Mommy, it's okay."
I suddenly felt better...

After church one day:
E: "When the baby comes can we put it in a basket and throw it in the river like Moses?"

E: "Can I have some milk?"
Me: I nod with "Mm Hmm."
E: "Mom, talk with using your mouth."
Linguistics from a 2 yr old?

Her "I love you" is getting longer and longer as she adds on something new every few weeks.  Now it's, "I love you so much, in all the world, all the time, in his hands, and in a chair."  (I have no idea.)

The Cost of Quiet

As the saying goes, if it's quiet, then they are probably getting into something they shouldn't.  But sometimes I love that quiet moment a little too much.  It's a fine balance between how much I need that moment to myself and how much time I want to spend repairing/cleaning the damage.

This time though, was probably a time that I really should have been a little more attentive.  After deciding that the few minutes of peace were a bit too long and too quiet, I found Esmé in my bedroom.  She had found my paramedic scissors.  The heavy duty ones that can cut through seat belts, and I bet little fingers.  And somehow she managed to figure them out and alter her pyjamas while keeping all 10 fingers.  Oh, the guilt of a negligent mom!

We are having a....

The Best Part of Pregnancy

(Although when I get out of the car I do feel the need to draw attention to my belly with a little rub and an extra waddle, just in case anyone thinks I'm cheating.)

Sugar and Spice vs. Snakes and Snails

This week I will be going in for the 20 week ultrasound which means we will be finding out the gender next week!  (Along with other info like if the baby has limbs, a heart, and other minor things.)

So now is your chance to put your clairvoyance skills to the test.  Tell me, what do you think?  Boy or Girl?

I'll give you some hints:
1. Apparently people who take a lot of plane flights, like pilots, have a much greater tendency toward having girls.  We've been on lots of flights.  Hundreds of hours in the sky, exposed to the sun's boy-sperm-killing radiation.
2. The heart rate last time I was at the Midwife was 165 bmp.  They say that a higher heart rate like this means a girl.
3. The other two heart rates that were taken earlier in the pregnancy were 150 bpm.  They say that a lower heart rate at that point in pregnancy means a boy.
4. They say  that you can tell the gender by how you carry it.  Mine is being carried mostly in the middle area.
5. I've pretty much thought that it's a boy this pregnancy.  Except for a couple weeks ago when I suddenly thought it was a girl.  I thought Esmé was a girl at first but then thought she was a boy for many weeks too.
6. Esmé wants a brother.  She says it's a boy.
7. Kyle says he needs a male to be his heir.
8. Lestat says it doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl, he'll still be neglected and nearly starve to death again all while enduring verbal abuse / being beaten with a sock whenever he meows near the sleeping baby.

So I hope that clears up any confusion about the gender.  Cast your votes now!  And get ready for the big reveal next week.

At Grandma's House

This has been such a busy time for us these last few weeks that I've been a little behind on my blogging!

Last month Esmé and I went to Kansas to visit my grandma and family.  Our little City Slicker got a real taste of farm life and fell in love with it!  It probably helped that the weather was so perfect that we spent most of our time outside wandering around the farm.  I forgot how much I love the country, the sweet air, going barefoot, the serenity, and nature.  I felt rejuvenated.  I think we both did!

Esmé's hang out was the chicken coop.  She spent a lot of time feeding them and looking for eggs.  As soon as she found an egg we had to go inside and cook it so she could eat it.  It doesn't get any fresher than that I guess!

Exploring the hay bails.

I told her that the corn wasn't ready so she went back the next day to see if any had grown yet.

Child Labour

Hot Guy in Leather

Hey, who's this super cool dude?  http://digitaljournal.com/blog/16998

P.S.
Save the date: June 23th and 30th, 7pm to see Kyle on TV!! (And most importantly vote for his film!!)

Soon to be Four

And here we go again!

Dear Sunshine, We Missed You

The year's at the spring

Morning's at seven;

The hillside's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in His heaven -

All's right with the world!

-Robert Browning

City Slicker Kid

You know you are raising a west coast city slicker when:

1. We say, "Let's go to a coffee shop." and she responds with, "Hooray!"

2. She thinks that snow is a form of dirt.

3. She knows how to hold the elevator for other people and is adept at using a fob.

4. She knows the word lobby.

5. She loves getting out the yoga mat and exercising.

6. Sushi is her favourite food.

7. The only farm animals she's ever seen are 2 inches high and made of plastic.

8. She carries a purse. In her purse is a wallet. And a cell phone. (Not a real phone though, I promise!)

9. She thinks guitars and saxophones are mainly found on street corners.

10. She's made a sport out of pigeon chasing.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Festivals, France, and more to come...

In case you haven't seen them yet, there are a few new posts up on motion58.com. Pop over to see the latest news on Kyle's films. There is more exciting news coming up in the next several days so keep checking back!

I Heart Vancouver

This is a Vancouver music video with the band Watasun, former Granville Street buskers.

Goodnight Papa

I got the camera out too late and didn't get her dragging out all her blankets from her room to tuck him in. But I caught story time, which is the best part. Well actually, the ending is the best part.

Baby's First Haircut

Make that, Toddler's First Haircut.

It's been a long road, this hair growing business. After over two years we finally decided that Esmé was starting to look like Patrick Kane and it was time for a haircut.

Sometimes I make a parenting move that, pre-baby, I swore I would never do. Spending 28 bucks on my kid's first haircut when I have perfectly good scissors at home is one of those choices.

But hey, if you got to sit in a pink car while you got your hair cut, you might just pay that extra cash too.

This was the most girly experience either of us have ever had. Esmé had a choice of Thomas the Train, Lightning McQueen, or a pink Barbie car. But even after I tried telling her how cool the train was, she insisted on this Pepto Bismol car. Maybe it's because I put her in a pink shirt this morning. Or maybe I'm failing as a mother.

Ever since Esmé watched Grama get her haircut, she's been super excited to get hers cut. She often pretends that she's my hairdresser and spends a looooong time combing, "cutting", and blowdrying my hair. (It actually feels kinda nice!)

So I told the hairdresser that Esmé will do just fine and I'm positive that she will sit very still. But I guess the hairdresser has had one too many rowdies and insisted on turning on the TV during the cut.

Notice the glazed look of Dora-hypnotism.

So after the cut, the blow-dry, and the application of more hair products than I have in my bathroom cupboard, out comes the red glitter shaker. Yes, glitter. The stuff you use with glue. On paper. During craft time. The stuff that you never want your kid bringing home because you will still be finding bits of it after your kid has left for college, let alone imbedded in her hair for all eternity. Esmé's expression above echoes my thoughts exactly.

In the end she left with some sort of sparkly, poofy, pagent-girl hairdo, but it was definitely worth the experience.

And no girly experience would be complete without a halter-top wearing Barbie sticker to take home.

Crayola

Esmé and I were colouring the other day I noticed this...

What? REALLY? Oh dear Crayola, have you forgotten what century we are in? I checked the black crayon. Nope, no mention of Africa. Maybe that would be a little too obvious.

Okay, for you factual types out there, I did do my research a bit and found out that, according to the Crayola website, Indian Red is also a reddish-brown oil paint found near India. But hey, that's not the point! Intent doesn't matter when the first thing that comes to most people's minds is not obscure oil paint but a racist reference to a people who have endured centuries of brutality. Let's not normalize these terms any more than they already are. Who are these crayon-colour-thinker-uppers anyway? Sheesh.

Bathtime Lineup

(Another example of toddler OCD?)

Christmas Series 2011: Presents at Dawn

Christmas Series 2011: Gingerbread in the Oven

Christmas Series 2011: Ice Skating

Esmé's first time ice skating! We went to the outdoor rink at Robson Square which had a beautiful Christmas tree and a live band playing carols. No better way to get into the Christmas spirit. Esmé was a little freaked out about the whole thing at first and tried to tell me, "Mommy, all done!" But after just a couple minutes of being out on the ice, she was in love.

Christmas Series 2011: The Tree

This year, as we went to get our annual Christmas tree, Esmé was there to learn the important lesson of where trees come from... Ikea of course.

She loved decorating the tree. Although she decided that trees should be re-decorated every day while the tree is in our house. Thankfully there were only a few fatalities: the worst being a reindeer amputee, and a decapitated clay figurine.

Even our cat likes to decorate, specifically, making sure the ornament packaging doesn't escape.