Remember learning about stream of conciousness in grade 13/OAC English literature? Virginia Woolf? Well, this is my attempt at this literary technique. Also known as, writing down my jumbled thoughts on what November 11th means to me.
In the wake of the recent losses of two Canadian soldiers on our own soil, there's been a movement to have Remembrance Day declared a national statutory holiday. I believe the motion passed in the House of Commons. Which means it's pretty much a done deal. While means that civil servants and bank employees like myself and my husband will have to find another day to get our snow tires put on our vehicles. I am the first to admit that I've used this day off to a get a jump start on my Christmas shopping, or rake leaves, or go through the piles of junk in my house. Back in the day before kids, we'd take in an afternoon matinee. In other words, I've used my day off wisely. But it also means, I rarely took the time to reflect on the purpose of Remembrance Day. Not since I was in grade school and watched the black and white clips of the war footages and recited "In Flanders Fields" in class. (Although I do recall getting the day off from school when I was in the primary grades.)
Today, I attended the Remembrance Day assembly at my children's school. Ceilidh was singing in the choir. But for my child's participation, I probably would have spent the morning lounging around the house, mopping the floors or hitting the malls to start on the Christmas list. Instead, after a run, there I sat, sweating and panting, in the gymnasium, watching the old black and white footage of the gun battles in the last great war. But then the movie changed to colour, and showed images of our Canadian peacekeepers in Bosnia. There were images of the soldiers we had lost in Afghanistan. Clips of the hearses travelling along the Highway of Heroes. Tears started to flood my eyes as I recalled a few weeks ago, driving along the 407, on a Friday afternoon. Gathering along the overpasses were EMS personnel, fire fighters, police, everyday citizens. The Canadian flag was draped along the concrete as they awaited the arrival of hearse carrying the body of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo. I remember then, how my chest tightened and tears briefly blurred my vision, at the thought of a small child who was now orphaned. Whose father would never return home, even though he had only been a few short hours away. Who was slain not while fighting a war overseas, but while performing the seemingly "safe" task of standing guard at the War Memorial, at the tomb of the unknown soldier. A ceremonial duty at the symbol of what this young father was upholding. Keeping the peace. At the hands of a crazed, mentally ill person.
I realized then, the serious duty that's befallen on me, to educate my children to appreciate exactly what Remembrance Day is about. While it may have started to mark the end of the war of all wars, the signing of the Armistace Treaty, it is much more than a moment in history. It is the continual efforts to maintain a free world, a free country. This responsibility placed upon our shoulders is difficult for me and others like me. I have no family members in the armed forces. I have not been personally touched by the tragedy of losing a loved one in a war, nor welcomed back a soldier from a tour of duty. Nor have I fled a country in the grips of a civil war. I am fortunate to have lived my entire life in this great country, Canada. I have enjoyed the freedoms and rights that my forepersons have fought for, but never appreciated it.
While I often joke about the lack of peace in my household (an elusive and fleeting moment in a house full of kids), it is no laughing matter that my children can attend school without having to worry about gunfire. That they can sleep at night, having the confidence they will wake up in the same warm bed and not be spirited away at gunpoint, under the cloak of darkness. That they can attend worship services and play alongside children of other faiths without being persecuted.
It is grave burden placed on my generation to keep the conversation alive about Remembrance Day and peace, and not restrict to just one day of the year. The question is, are we up to the task?
As I drove along the 407, I remember thinking if I didn't have to rush home to my kids to feed them dinner, I would have pulled over, and awaited the passing of the motorcade of Cpl. Cirillo. And there in lies the true task. That despite the craziness and busyness of our daily lives - working and raising kids - can we remember to keep alive the true spirit of Remembrance Day?
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Sunday, November 9, 2014
What'd you call me?!
Quinn was dressed for church in a pair of blue jeans, a rugby type shirt and beige desert boot-like shoes. He looked like a little boy, not so much a toddler.
"He's ready to go! Take a look at him!" I said as I handed him off to his father.
"Let's go, you sharp dresser," Daddy said, holding the door open.
Quinn stopped in his tracks, and glared at his father.
"What?! I'm not a shark! I'm Quinny!" he announced.
"He's ready to go! Take a look at him!" I said as I handed him off to his father.
"Let's go, you sharp dresser," Daddy said, holding the door open.
Quinn stopped in his tracks, and glared at his father.
"What?! I'm not a shark! I'm Quinny!" he announced.
Friday, October 24, 2014
Aisling and Quinn
It's no secret that Aisling has trouble with voice modulation. Her lack of an indoor voice is known amongst all. Sometimes I wonder if her premature birth is a factor in her inability to speak at a normal tone. It's all or nothing with her. Either she's quite loud, or it's a total whisper. Often, in a crowded venue full of strangers. It's more likely that her piercing volume comes from being one of four kids and the need to be heard.
The other night, Aisling was talking about something. I was in bed, reading the second of many books to Quinn. It was distracting, trying to read about the Gruffalo while attempting to ignore Aisling's tales about her day. She wasn't even in the same room. All of a sudden, Quinn put his hands to his ears. And then I noticed he had two tiny baby pinecones in his hands that he was trying to put into his ears.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Aisling loud!" Quinn stated while using the pinecones as his earplugs.
I nearly fell off the bed laughing.
A few minutes later, Aisling came in for a good night cuddle.
She looked up at me, with her eyes wide, and said, "Remember when I was a baby and I used to sleep with you every night? Then Quinn came along and ruined it all!"
There was a glare thrown in Quinn's direction before she left to cuddle with Daddy.
The other night, Aisling was talking about something. I was in bed, reading the second of many books to Quinn. It was distracting, trying to read about the Gruffalo while attempting to ignore Aisling's tales about her day. She wasn't even in the same room. All of a sudden, Quinn put his hands to his ears. And then I noticed he had two tiny baby pinecones in his hands that he was trying to put into his ears.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Aisling loud!" Quinn stated while using the pinecones as his earplugs.
I nearly fell off the bed laughing.
A few minutes later, Aisling came in for a good night cuddle.
She looked up at me, with her eyes wide, and said, "Remember when I was a baby and I used to sleep with you every night? Then Quinn came along and ruined it all!"
There was a glare thrown in Quinn's direction before she left to cuddle with Daddy.
Monday, September 15, 2014
You sick? You need garbage bag?
Routine is important to children. My kids, for the most part, thrive on routine, although routine weekly schedules involving their activities somehow escape their need for regularity. It's important for them to have movie nights on Fridays with a take out meal chosen by one of the kids (also done with routine - one kid gets to choose every 3 weeks); treats of chips or some other salty snack accompanying said movie; pancakes and bacon on the weekends; xbox time on the weekends. But ask the kids to be ready for tae kwon do or hockey or dance with all of the needed equipment and water bottles, and we get met with blank stares.
Quinn is no different when it comes to routine. Whenever there's a change in the schedule, it takes a few tantrums before he falls in line with the new regime. Like encouraging him to pee in the morning on the potty. Or using a new toothpaste. But some habits are cute and endearing. Like his morning routine. When he wakes up and decides it's time to head downstairs, he must have his blanket, pillow, soother and lambie. He hands them over to me to hold, while naming each object and then jumps into my arms for the trip down the stairs. Every car ride must also include blankie, pillow, lambie and soother. If one or all are missing, it's a recipe for disaster.
Quinn's evening routines are also well established. There's the brushing of his teeth and then arranging his blankie, pillow, lambie and soother. Then there are the gazillion stories to be read. This child is NOT interested in or two bedtime stories. There is often an entire library. The fact that he loves books is one to be encouraged. He's also interested in a wide variety of characters or subjects. Some nights, all the stories are about super heros. Some nights, it's hockey night in bed. Sometimes, Thomas rules the evening. Or a mish mash of characters. It would be easier to negotiate peace in the Middle East than to convince Quinn to settle for one bedtime story.
Last night, I was exhausted and feeling the need to curl up in bed early. I was hoping the monkeys would be entranced by the weekend movie selection and leave me alone. Quinn was having none of that. He climbed into bed and demanded his stories. I tried to explain that Mommy was tired and perhaps, could Daddy read to him?
No, that would not do for Quinn.
Mommy tried to reason with him, "Quinny, Mommy isn't feeling very well. How about just one story? And then we'll cuddle and sleep?"
Immediately, there was a look of concern on his tiny face. "Mommy, you sick? You need garbage bag to throw up?"
However, once satisfied I wasn't that kind of sick, he brought over three books and demanded his nightly entertainment.
Quinn is no different when it comes to routine. Whenever there's a change in the schedule, it takes a few tantrums before he falls in line with the new regime. Like encouraging him to pee in the morning on the potty. Or using a new toothpaste. But some habits are cute and endearing. Like his morning routine. When he wakes up and decides it's time to head downstairs, he must have his blanket, pillow, soother and lambie. He hands them over to me to hold, while naming each object and then jumps into my arms for the trip down the stairs. Every car ride must also include blankie, pillow, lambie and soother. If one or all are missing, it's a recipe for disaster.
Quinn's evening routines are also well established. There's the brushing of his teeth and then arranging his blankie, pillow, lambie and soother. Then there are the gazillion stories to be read. This child is NOT interested in or two bedtime stories. There is often an entire library. The fact that he loves books is one to be encouraged. He's also interested in a wide variety of characters or subjects. Some nights, all the stories are about super heros. Some nights, it's hockey night in bed. Sometimes, Thomas rules the evening. Or a mish mash of characters. It would be easier to negotiate peace in the Middle East than to convince Quinn to settle for one bedtime story.
Last night, I was exhausted and feeling the need to curl up in bed early. I was hoping the monkeys would be entranced by the weekend movie selection and leave me alone. Quinn was having none of that. He climbed into bed and demanded his stories. I tried to explain that Mommy was tired and perhaps, could Daddy read to him?
No, that would not do for Quinn.
Mommy tried to reason with him, "Quinny, Mommy isn't feeling very well. How about just one story? And then we'll cuddle and sleep?"
Immediately, there was a look of concern on his tiny face. "Mommy, you sick? You need garbage bag to throw up?"
However, once satisfied I wasn't that kind of sick, he brought over three books and demanded his nightly entertainment.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Family meals not worth it?!?!
I can't believe the latest article in the Globe and Mail's Life section that panned family sit down meals. Despite the plethora of research that links family meal times with a protective shell against obesity in children, depression and risky behaviours in teens, this article focussed on the stress of making meals to suggest the benefits are not worth the effort? Really? The article's author interviewed some lame, pansy "urban daddy" who whined about his kids' picky palates as the source of stress. Since one kid was a vegetarian and one only ate carbs, meal times meant being short order cooks. First of all, why are they catering to their kids in this fashion? And secondly, their "catering" was a monster they created. It's not like their children had serious food allergies that are indeed a source of legitimate stress to real parents who have to figure out creative and nutritious meals that all family members can eat.
Urban Daddy also whined that at least one child was unhappy with the meal that was served and this caused distress to his wife, a career woman who spent hours coming up with meals. WHATEVER! Tough Sh--!! When you read this kind of drivel, it's no wonder there is a generation of young people who have a sense of entitlement to EVERYTHING, and don't understand how minor disappointments in life build character.
In my household, we try to sit down for a family meal several times a week. It doesn't always happen because of extra-curricular activities and our long commutes. Yes, I stress over meal plans to come up with 15 minutes meals that are not pre-packaged and contain all four food groups. On weekends, I will cook that traditional dinner that takes hours to prepare, and fills the kitchen with heavenly scents, only to have one or two kids turn their noses up at it. It is a shot to the cook's ego to have roasted lemon chicken refused, but Kraft dinner eagerly accepted. But that's kids, and I love mac and cheese, so I get it. I also know that eventually, their taste buds will learn to accept green peppers and celery and condiments on their burgers.
We try to make family sit down meals as a time to chat about the day. But some meals are rushed as we've got hockey or gymnastics or Tae Kwon Do. Sometimes the kids want to watch a tv show and we relent, since they're only allowed screen time on the weekends. This gives Mommy and Daddy a chance to linger over a glass of wine and catch out breaths from the hectic week.
I've re-read that silly article from the Sop and Pail, and I'm still trying to figure out the message. Are family meals not worth the effort because kids are picky? Well, then that's the parents' own fault. There was nothing in the article about the dangers of leaving the kids to fend for themselves when it comes to ditching family meals. And if it's about the stress of cooking meals, then perhaps there could have been more said about ideas for quick meals or ordering in nutritious meals. Or some suggestions on how to create a meal to deal with picky eaters. Or behavioural techniques to deal with such pickiness.
For example, earlier in the week, I drove home at 130km/h in rush hour GTA traffic, to cook a nutritious hot meal before the kids headed off to their activities. In less than 15 minutes, there was teriyaki salmon, udon noodles tossed in sesame oil, steamed beans and a tossed salad on the dinner table. (ok, I cheated. The salad was from a bad.) One kid raved about the meal, another only ate the salmon and some salad, one cried and stated she would puke if she had to eat and the fourth licked the salmon. Instead of giving in to the whining and providing them with an alternate meal, we just send them to bed without, because eventually, they'll learn to eat what is put before them, and that we don't live in a restaurant. And one night of going without won't kill them.
And that's my rant for the week, as my kids are chirping in the background about the injustice of not getting pancakes on the weekend. Tough! Eat your toast and bacon. There are children who aren't lucky enough to even get cold cereal.
Urban Daddy also whined that at least one child was unhappy with the meal that was served and this caused distress to his wife, a career woman who spent hours coming up with meals. WHATEVER! Tough Sh--!! When you read this kind of drivel, it's no wonder there is a generation of young people who have a sense of entitlement to EVERYTHING, and don't understand how minor disappointments in life build character.
In my household, we try to sit down for a family meal several times a week. It doesn't always happen because of extra-curricular activities and our long commutes. Yes, I stress over meal plans to come up with 15 minutes meals that are not pre-packaged and contain all four food groups. On weekends, I will cook that traditional dinner that takes hours to prepare, and fills the kitchen with heavenly scents, only to have one or two kids turn their noses up at it. It is a shot to the cook's ego to have roasted lemon chicken refused, but Kraft dinner eagerly accepted. But that's kids, and I love mac and cheese, so I get it. I also know that eventually, their taste buds will learn to accept green peppers and celery and condiments on their burgers.
We try to make family sit down meals as a time to chat about the day. But some meals are rushed as we've got hockey or gymnastics or Tae Kwon Do. Sometimes the kids want to watch a tv show and we relent, since they're only allowed screen time on the weekends. This gives Mommy and Daddy a chance to linger over a glass of wine and catch out breaths from the hectic week.
I've re-read that silly article from the Sop and Pail, and I'm still trying to figure out the message. Are family meals not worth the effort because kids are picky? Well, then that's the parents' own fault. There was nothing in the article about the dangers of leaving the kids to fend for themselves when it comes to ditching family meals. And if it's about the stress of cooking meals, then perhaps there could have been more said about ideas for quick meals or ordering in nutritious meals. Or some suggestions on how to create a meal to deal with picky eaters. Or behavioural techniques to deal with such pickiness.
For example, earlier in the week, I drove home at 130km/h in rush hour GTA traffic, to cook a nutritious hot meal before the kids headed off to their activities. In less than 15 minutes, there was teriyaki salmon, udon noodles tossed in sesame oil, steamed beans and a tossed salad on the dinner table. (ok, I cheated. The salad was from a bad.) One kid raved about the meal, another only ate the salmon and some salad, one cried and stated she would puke if she had to eat and the fourth licked the salmon. Instead of giving in to the whining and providing them with an alternate meal, we just send them to bed without, because eventually, they'll learn to eat what is put before them, and that we don't live in a restaurant. And one night of going without won't kill them.
And that's my rant for the week, as my kids are chirping in the background about the injustice of not getting pancakes on the weekend. Tough! Eat your toast and bacon. There are children who aren't lucky enough to even get cold cereal.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
The most wonderful time of the year
Yep, it's that time of the year - when the school bells ring, the children are out the door, eager to see their classmates and meet their new teachers, and parents are celebrating the return of routine and normalcy. It's also a time for bewilderment, as in, where did the summer go? How could it fly by so quickly? And of course, really? You need new shoes already? You grew how much over the summer?
Okay, the last two lines don't really affect me. At their annual medical checkups, we learned that while Ceilidh grew by 5 cm and gained 4 kilograms, Devlin only gained 3cm in height and 1 kilogram in weight. It's sad because Ceilidh now outweighs him by nearly 6 kilograms and is taller by 7cm. However, Devlin's feet are the larger ones. We're hopeful he'll grow into those feet soon.
Aisling was full of nervous energy on the first day of school, dreading grade one as she'd been told that "playtime" was thing of the past. But she was pleasantly surprised to meet up with several of her kindergarten buddies in her class.
The weather this week seems to be summer's last attempts at holding on, finally providing us with the heat and humidity that's normally observed in July. Despite the cooler weather, I think we still managed to cram in some summer fun this year. We opted not to do the CNE this year, and spent the day at the African Lion Safari instead. The monkeys still climb the cars but now there's an awesome water park and a train ride to enjoy. Not to mention the most delicious funnel cakes.
We also took the kids to Niagara Falls for a couple of days at the Fallsview water park. We did the obligatory trek down to the falls, the slow climb up Clifton Hill to gawk at the gaudy tourist attractions and purchase outrageously priced souvenirs for the kids. Here's one thing I love about water parks- no matter how unsure I am feeling about baring my post 4 kids baby in a bathing suit, there a gazillion other women in much worse shape than me, baring it - lumps, jiggly bits, cellulite and all.
There were also glorious days at the cottage. The waves were rough, the wind was refreshing, and of course, the time spent with family and close friends unbeatable. I could have done without the bug bites. My legs look like I've been attacked by chicken pox.
And then suddenly, it's September, and kids are in school, and I'm still trying to recover from summer. I'm enjoying my last few days of vacation at home. In between potty training Quinn, and staying on top of the back to school needs, reorganizing clothes and ensuring everyone has shoes and rain jackets for the fall, registering the monkeys for a slew of extra-curricular activities and mapping out the family schedule, I am trying to find some time to pamper me. So far, it's been in those few minutes after I've read Quinn some stories and we cuddle while he falls asleep for his afternoon nap. Those are precious moments I am trying to memorize. Next year, Quinn will be starting school and naps will be forever gone. At least, regular naptimes surrounded by fluffy pillows and cozy blankets.
Picking up the kids from school, trying to hear their excited news and tidbits about their day, coralling them for snacks, supervising homework and piano practice while trying to prepare supper, all the while, despairing at coming up with suitable quick meals for when I return to work and the kids are into hockey/dance/tae kwon do/cubs/brownies/piano/etc full swing....I'm ready to tear my hair out, or reach for the bottle of wine.
But I know, that this craziness will pass much too quickly. One day, I'll be staring at the phone, waiting for the kids to call from university or whereever they are, and wondering why I ever complained the house was too noisy.
So, I bid you good night, so I can go snuggle up to a sweaty, slumbering child and fall into the exhausted dreamless sleep of all moms.
Okay, the last two lines don't really affect me. At their annual medical checkups, we learned that while Ceilidh grew by 5 cm and gained 4 kilograms, Devlin only gained 3cm in height and 1 kilogram in weight. It's sad because Ceilidh now outweighs him by nearly 6 kilograms and is taller by 7cm. However, Devlin's feet are the larger ones. We're hopeful he'll grow into those feet soon.
Aisling was full of nervous energy on the first day of school, dreading grade one as she'd been told that "playtime" was thing of the past. But she was pleasantly surprised to meet up with several of her kindergarten buddies in her class.
The weather this week seems to be summer's last attempts at holding on, finally providing us with the heat and humidity that's normally observed in July. Despite the cooler weather, I think we still managed to cram in some summer fun this year. We opted not to do the CNE this year, and spent the day at the African Lion Safari instead. The monkeys still climb the cars but now there's an awesome water park and a train ride to enjoy. Not to mention the most delicious funnel cakes.
We also took the kids to Niagara Falls for a couple of days at the Fallsview water park. We did the obligatory trek down to the falls, the slow climb up Clifton Hill to gawk at the gaudy tourist attractions and purchase outrageously priced souvenirs for the kids. Here's one thing I love about water parks- no matter how unsure I am feeling about baring my post 4 kids baby in a bathing suit, there a gazillion other women in much worse shape than me, baring it - lumps, jiggly bits, cellulite and all.
There were also glorious days at the cottage. The waves were rough, the wind was refreshing, and of course, the time spent with family and close friends unbeatable. I could have done without the bug bites. My legs look like I've been attacked by chicken pox.
And then suddenly, it's September, and kids are in school, and I'm still trying to recover from summer. I'm enjoying my last few days of vacation at home. In between potty training Quinn, and staying on top of the back to school needs, reorganizing clothes and ensuring everyone has shoes and rain jackets for the fall, registering the monkeys for a slew of extra-curricular activities and mapping out the family schedule, I am trying to find some time to pamper me. So far, it's been in those few minutes after I've read Quinn some stories and we cuddle while he falls asleep for his afternoon nap. Those are precious moments I am trying to memorize. Next year, Quinn will be starting school and naps will be forever gone. At least, regular naptimes surrounded by fluffy pillows and cozy blankets.
Picking up the kids from school, trying to hear their excited news and tidbits about their day, coralling them for snacks, supervising homework and piano practice while trying to prepare supper, all the while, despairing at coming up with suitable quick meals for when I return to work and the kids are into hockey/dance/tae kwon do/cubs/brownies/piano/etc full swing....I'm ready to tear my hair out, or reach for the bottle of wine.
But I know, that this craziness will pass much too quickly. One day, I'll be staring at the phone, waiting for the kids to call from university or whereever they are, and wondering why I ever complained the house was too noisy.
So, I bid you good night, so I can go snuggle up to a sweaty, slumbering child and fall into the exhausted dreamless sleep of all moms.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Our Big Fat Alberta Vacation
The much anticipated vacation of the year has come and gone. We all took the trek out to Alberta to celebrate the twin cousins turning one and their baptism. Everyone from Ontario - including Uncle Billy, Auntie Grace and soon-to-be Uncle Dan, Halmuhnee and Habudgee, plus our rowdy gang of 6 - descended upon Auntie Shunaha's abode for several days of chaos and laughs.
Somehow, with one hour of sleep, Daddy and I woke our monkeys up at the ungodly hour of 4am to get ourselves to the airport. We thought we'd have plenty of time to grab a coffee before boarding. After spending twenty minutes fruitlessly searching for Quinn's lamb, I found Lamb 2.0 and hoped he wouldn't fuss. Then we couldn't find the correct entrance to the parking garage. A bit of a hiccup as our boarding passes were printed and we were sent off to another counter to check in the car seats. Then the ridiculous wait for the screening. At least, we didn't have to take off our shoes. We ran to our gate as our names were being paged for the final boarding call. Of course, our seats were at the rear of the plane. The passengers glared as we bopped them in the head with our backpacks and Quinn's errant foot.
It was a four hour flight. Hours 1 and 2 went smoothly, all things considered. Aisling slept. Devlin and Ceilidh occupied themselves with the television. Quinn started to lose it somewhere over Manitoba. By Saskatchewan, he was in full temper tantrum mode. I gave him a dose of gravol. It didn't help. I think it made it worse. We were that family with that kid - the one that was screaming loud enough to be heard over the roar of the jet's engines. Twenty minutes before we landed, Quinn finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
And so, our vacation started.
The highlights and low lights of our trip out west:
- being greeted at the door by a very excited cousin Mia
- seeing a bull elk, meandering near the parking lot, no more than 15 metres away, in Banff
- watching Mommy turn green on the 8 minute long gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain
- learning that both Aisling and Ceilidh had no qualms about the high ascent on the gondola ride, unlike their brother Devlin
- carrying Quinn in my arms,up a gazillion steps, to the summit of Sulphur Mountain
- relaxing in the hot springs
- Quinn having a full on meltdown on the side of the TransCanada highway 10 minutes from our exit
- picnicking next to a stream in beautiful Lake Louise
- hiking along Moraine Lake, breathing in the fresh mountain air and filling up on the gorgeous vista
- climbing up the rock pile with Quinn on my back and realizing the view up there was worth the effort
- watching Aisling's excitement at petting a brave and fat chipmunk that crept close to her
- realizing no matter how fit I thought I was, I was wiped out by running in the hilly neighbourhood where Auntie Shunaha lives
- Ceilidh's triumph at riding her first real roller coaster, loops and all
- hearing Quinn belch, loudly, during the baptism
- having strangers compliment me on on my well-behaved kids (that's because Quinn saved his "I'm sooo tired" meltdown for after the church service)
- celebrating Jacob and Hannah's first birthday in style
- realizing too late, that despite having everyone gathered together under one roof (16 people in all), we never managed to get a family portrait, formal or informal (this is the only one of the Kim sibs)
- driving through the Alberta badlands to visit some dinosaurs
- picnicking in Drumheller, and having the prairie dogs come begging for food (one ate a chip out of Mommy's hands)
- watching the kids try to tempt other prairie dogs with chips and celery sticks
- seeing Quinn stuff a handful of food down a prairie dog hole, in the hopes of tempting one to stick his head out (see Quinn pointing to the hole!)
- visiting the dinosaurs at the Royal Tyrell Museum
- bribing the kids out of the museum with the promise of candy (and dinosaur souvenirs - the tour ends in the gift shop!)
- spending time with our extended family
- sticker shock at spending $64 on 24 bottles of beer (thank gawd for the Beer Store and the LCBO in Ontario)
- cooling off at a splash pad
- Mommy having a meltdown at the airport when she couldn't find the passports (they were in a suitcase pocket and she forgot having put them there for safekeeping)
- realizing Quinn only slept 30 minutes yesterday, and didn't show any signs of sleepiness on the flight home, and yes, he was dosed with Benadryl in the misplaced hopes he'd have a nap
- Quinn getting a black eye just before boarding (he tripped and hit his face off a metal structure)
- Aisling having the puke bag up to her face for most of the flight home
- Mommy turning green on the flight from all the getting up and chasing Quinn
- both Mommy and Daddy forgetting where they parked the car after landing at 11pm
Conclusion -
Devlin already misses Calgary. And Mommy is vowing not to travel with Quinn again, for a looooong time. At least, on a flight longer than two hours.
Somehow, with one hour of sleep, Daddy and I woke our monkeys up at the ungodly hour of 4am to get ourselves to the airport. We thought we'd have plenty of time to grab a coffee before boarding. After spending twenty minutes fruitlessly searching for Quinn's lamb, I found Lamb 2.0 and hoped he wouldn't fuss. Then we couldn't find the correct entrance to the parking garage. A bit of a hiccup as our boarding passes were printed and we were sent off to another counter to check in the car seats. Then the ridiculous wait for the screening. At least, we didn't have to take off our shoes. We ran to our gate as our names were being paged for the final boarding call. Of course, our seats were at the rear of the plane. The passengers glared as we bopped them in the head with our backpacks and Quinn's errant foot.
It was a four hour flight. Hours 1 and 2 went smoothly, all things considered. Aisling slept. Devlin and Ceilidh occupied themselves with the television. Quinn started to lose it somewhere over Manitoba. By Saskatchewan, he was in full temper tantrum mode. I gave him a dose of gravol. It didn't help. I think it made it worse. We were that family with that kid - the one that was screaming loud enough to be heard over the roar of the jet's engines. Twenty minutes before we landed, Quinn finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
And so, our vacation started.
The highlights and low lights of our trip out west:
- being greeted at the door by a very excited cousin Mia
- seeing a bull elk, meandering near the parking lot, no more than 15 metres away, in Banff
- watching Mommy turn green on the 8 minute long gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain
- learning that both Aisling and Ceilidh had no qualms about the high ascent on the gondola ride, unlike their brother Devlin
- carrying Quinn in my arms,up a gazillion steps, to the summit of Sulphur Mountain
- relaxing in the hot springs
- Quinn having a full on meltdown on the side of the TransCanada highway 10 minutes from our exit
- picnicking next to a stream in beautiful Lake Louise
- hiking along Moraine Lake, breathing in the fresh mountain air and filling up on the gorgeous vista
- climbing up the rock pile with Quinn on my back and realizing the view up there was worth the effort
- watching Aisling's excitement at petting a brave and fat chipmunk that crept close to her
- realizing no matter how fit I thought I was, I was wiped out by running in the hilly neighbourhood where Auntie Shunaha lives
- Ceilidh's triumph at riding her first real roller coaster, loops and all
- hearing Quinn belch, loudly, during the baptism
- having strangers compliment me on on my well-behaved kids (that's because Quinn saved his "I'm sooo tired" meltdown for after the church service)
- celebrating Jacob and Hannah's first birthday in style
- realizing too late, that despite having everyone gathered together under one roof (16 people in all), we never managed to get a family portrait, formal or informal (this is the only one of the Kim sibs)
- driving through the Alberta badlands to visit some dinosaurs
- picnicking in Drumheller, and having the prairie dogs come begging for food (one ate a chip out of Mommy's hands)
- watching the kids try to tempt other prairie dogs with chips and celery sticks
- seeing Quinn stuff a handful of food down a prairie dog hole, in the hopes of tempting one to stick his head out (see Quinn pointing to the hole!)
- visiting the dinosaurs at the Royal Tyrell Museum
- bribing the kids out of the museum with the promise of candy (and dinosaur souvenirs - the tour ends in the gift shop!)
- spending time with our extended family
- sticker shock at spending $64 on 24 bottles of beer (thank gawd for the Beer Store and the LCBO in Ontario)
- cooling off at a splash pad
- Mommy having a meltdown at the airport when she couldn't find the passports (they were in a suitcase pocket and she forgot having put them there for safekeeping)
- realizing Quinn only slept 30 minutes yesterday, and didn't show any signs of sleepiness on the flight home, and yes, he was dosed with Benadryl in the misplaced hopes he'd have a nap
- Quinn getting a black eye just before boarding (he tripped and hit his face off a metal structure)
- Aisling having the puke bag up to her face for most of the flight home
- Mommy turning green on the flight from all the getting up and chasing Quinn
- both Mommy and Daddy forgetting where they parked the car after landing at 11pm
Conclusion -
Devlin already misses Calgary. And Mommy is vowing not to travel with Quinn again, for a looooong time. At least, on a flight longer than two hours.
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