It started off well.
The three of us (G, M and I) had a happy morning, we got dressed and I decided that today would be a great day to go to the playground. I told the girls we were going to a playground and while they played, I gathered up their bathing suits and a towel to bring with us, in case they wanted to go to the spray pad as well. It crossed my mind that maybe I should bring a little snack, but I thought "No, we'll just come home if we get hungry."
By the time we got to the park, it was turning into a beautiful day, and G was very excited to see the spray park.
"Can we go in?" she begged.
"Well, actually, yes. I have your bathing suits."
She cheered and we made our way to the washrooms to get changed. The moment we stepped into the bathrooms, G started whining about the smell. It wasn't your standard "This is a stinky bathroom" smell, it was the overly-chemical smell of "we don't want this to be a stinky bathroom". G has a super-sensitive nose lately, so I asked if she'd rather get changed at one of the picnic tables in the park. She quickly agreed. It's nice that my kids are young enough to have no modesty whatsoever.
Once they were both in swimwear, I sent them to the spray pad. G's general approach with spray pads is to run to the water, barely touch it, then run out screaming. For M, this was her first encounter. Unlike G, who tends to be timid about new things, M has no qualms about just going for it. She ran in, full speed and giggled like mad.
G took M's hand, like the dutiful big sister and tried to lead her around, but in reality, it was M who was doing the leading. Every time G tried to bring her out of the water, M pulled her back in.
Soon enough, G was running to me, shivering. The sun had gone behind a cloud and she'd had enough. I wrapped her in the towel and she demanded to get dressed. Her spray park time had lasted 3 glorious minutes.
M, on the other hand, would not come out. She stood in the water, shivering, but enjoying her self. Her little lips started to go blue and still she wouldn't come out. I stood at the edge, fully clothed and not looking to get wet calling her name.
Finally, out she came and I dried her off and got her dressed, which was much like dressing a greasy eel. A greasy eel who is crying because you took her out of the water. All the while, G is at my side saying
"Come ooooooon!! Let's go to the plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayground!!"
Finally, the two of them ran off to the playground as I hear my cell phone make its non-annoying-but-still-audible notification noise. I check it.
Oh. Crap.
G has a gymnastics class in twenty minutes. Across town.
I yelled to her. She is excited for gymnastics and came right away. M is in the middle of a tunnel, so I wrestled her out and onto my back in the Ergo. We ran to the car and got in.
Now, St. John's is not a big city. It doesn't take all that long to get from one end to the other. However, where I was (Rotary Park) and where G's gymnastics class was (Torbay) are about as far from each other as you can get and still be in the city.
We hit every single red light on the way there.
As we pulled into the parking lot, it hit me. The class started at 11:45 (it was now 11:50), it ended at 12:45 and we had not eaten since breakfast. Why did I not pack that snack? I had no food on me, not even my emergency car food (note to self: replace emergency car food). I turned to G and gave her a choice "Do you want to go somewhere and eat, or do you want to do gymnastics first?" She chose gymnastics, so in we went. My stomach growled while I watched her, M was a bit cranky, but somehow we managed to make it.
Showing posts with label G. Show all posts
Showing posts with label G. Show all posts
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
4 Years ago
Four years ago today, this little girl came into our lives.
We've watched her grow.
And grow.
And grow
And Grow
And gain a little sister
And keep on growing!
To the big, big four year old girl she is today!
Happy Birthday, G! Your Mommy and Daddy love you so much.
Happy Birthday, G! Your Mommy and Daddy love you so much.
Monday, June 11, 2012
On Having Girls
My two older sisters and some of my friends have only boy children, and I imagine that if I had only boys, I might be jealous one of the things you get to do with girls - brushing their long hair and putting it up in braids, ponytails and other styles.
I too had this dream. When I had G I thought that I'd soon learn how to french braid and had visions of cute little pigtails.
There is a lovely vision I had and maybe moms of boys have it - sitting in the sunlight, calmly brushing your daughters hair, laughing together as you braid it, her bouncing away looking adorable.
The reality (for me at least) is this: G wakes up in the morning with a rat's nest on her head. She dips the ends of it in her cereal bowl because she cannot handle tucking it behind her ears. After she gets dressed, I attempt to brush it. The moment she sees the hairbrush she says "OW!". I haven't touched her. I beg her to come sit on my lap. She runs to the other side of the apartment. I finally wrestle her into my lap and run my fingers along her neck to move her hair. "YOU'RE HURTING ME!!" she screams.
The rat nest (always in the exact same location on her head) is the first plan of attack and I attempt to hold her on my lap with one hand, brush with the other and use my third and fourth hands to hold the hair while I brush it.
She wiggles free.
"Stop it Mommy! I don't want my hair brushed!"
"Look at these fancy barrettes (bobbles, headband, etc.)? Don't you want them in your hair?"
"NOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOoooooOOOOO!!!!"
"When the wind blows your hair in your face, you'll be sad, G."
"I don't care about the wind!"
At this point she runs away. I have three options. I can either put the messiest ponytail ever in her hair (and suffer the consequences when it's time for it to come out), I can leave it and suffer the consequences when we go outside and the wind blows her hair in her face and she can't see, or I can turn on the TV and usually she'll hold still long enough to get a nice enough hairstyle in (never a braid, never, ever a braid).
Or, I suppose, there is a fourth option. I could shave her head. Some days I want to do exactly that.
A footnote to this all is that M finally has long enough hair that I can put it in pigtails, but she has learned from her sister that the proper word to use while Mommy is doing your hair is "Ow!" She says it now with a smile on her face, but give her time.
Secondary footnote: My mom is reading this and laughing at me. Probably laughing quite hard. I was exactly like this as a kid. In fact, to be honest, I still don't love people touching my head. I completely deserve to be treated like this.
I too had this dream. When I had G I thought that I'd soon learn how to french braid and had visions of cute little pigtails.
There is a lovely vision I had and maybe moms of boys have it - sitting in the sunlight, calmly brushing your daughters hair, laughing together as you braid it, her bouncing away looking adorable.
The reality (for me at least) is this: G wakes up in the morning with a rat's nest on her head. She dips the ends of it in her cereal bowl because she cannot handle tucking it behind her ears. After she gets dressed, I attempt to brush it. The moment she sees the hairbrush she says "OW!". I haven't touched her. I beg her to come sit on my lap. She runs to the other side of the apartment. I finally wrestle her into my lap and run my fingers along her neck to move her hair. "YOU'RE HURTING ME!!" she screams.
The rat nest (always in the exact same location on her head) is the first plan of attack and I attempt to hold her on my lap with one hand, brush with the other and use my third and fourth hands to hold the hair while I brush it.
She wiggles free.
"Stop it Mommy! I don't want my hair brushed!"
"Look at these fancy barrettes (bobbles, headband, etc.)? Don't you want them in your hair?"
"NOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOoooooOOOOO!!!!"
"When the wind blows your hair in your face, you'll be sad, G."
"I don't care about the wind!"
At this point she runs away. I have three options. I can either put the messiest ponytail ever in her hair (and suffer the consequences when it's time for it to come out), I can leave it and suffer the consequences when we go outside and the wind blows her hair in her face and she can't see, or I can turn on the TV and usually she'll hold still long enough to get a nice enough hairstyle in (never a braid, never, ever a braid).
Or, I suppose, there is a fourth option. I could shave her head. Some days I want to do exactly that.
A footnote to this all is that M finally has long enough hair that I can put it in pigtails, but she has learned from her sister that the proper word to use while Mommy is doing your hair is "Ow!" She says it now with a smile on her face, but give her time.
Secondary footnote: My mom is reading this and laughing at me. Probably laughing quite hard. I was exactly like this as a kid. In fact, to be honest, I still don't love people touching my head. I completely deserve to be treated like this.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Fatherly Advice
Paul here.
Sometimes I look at my children and I suddenly see them as adults. It's an imperfect vision: adult G is still obsessed with aminals* in my imagination, and I have trouble picturing adult M with much hair. But the degree to which both have grown and changed already sometimes strikes me and I think about how they're actual people who will grow up into actual grown ups and face ... the world. I don't have life figured out; not by a long shot. And I don't know what it's like to be a girl, let alone a girl in the 21st century. But there are things I hope my daughters can learn from me, beyond how to hold a spoon and which shoe goes on which foot. Advice is both a form of nostalgia, and a form of narcissism, but here I go anyway. In no particular order, in what might become a recurring feature here but might not:
A Father's Advice to his Daughters:
1. Don't let anyone else tell you who you are allowed to be. Not even me. But don't buy into the idea of being true to yourself either. There isn't a true self buried deep at your core. You are made by your experiences, your community, your choices, your tastes. The best thing about this is that it never ends and you can decide what kind of person you want to be. Your everyday choices can slowly make you into that person. When I say "don't let anyone else tell you who you are allowed to be" I mean don't let anyone else decide for you who you want to turn yourself into.
2. A sister is a friend for life. Your grammy had (and probably still has) a cross-stitch with that on it in her house when I was growing up. It isn't limited to sisters. The same idea goes for cousins, parents, aunts, uncles; it's true about brothers, but you don't have any. But I especially want to focus on sisters: on your relationship with each other. A sister is a friend for life doesn't mean that you will always like each other or that you don't have to be good to each other. It means that your family is with you forever. If you make your sister into your friend, you will always have a friend. And it means that even if you make your sister into a stranger or into an enemy you don't have to lose her forever.
3. Don't overwater your plants. You're more likely to drown them then to dry them out. Don't stress out too much over them either. Plants want to live. Just let them. It took me so very long to figure this out.
4. Read. This advice shouldn't be surprising coming from me, but I really can't overstate it. Read history and read science, read the news and read theology, read the Bible, read comic books, read challenging modernist fiction and pulpy adventure stories. Many things you read will make you a happier person, and everything you read will make you a bigger person. Read.
5. You are not in charge of anyone else's feelings. Be kind and courteous, be loving and gracious; but do those things for your own sake. Know that you can't make someone else happy, you can't make someone else better, and you can't make someone else love you. Don't be kind to people so that they will be happy, be kind to them so that you will be. Love the people around you because love makes you better. But don't worry too much about what other people are feeling. That is up to them, in the end.
And finally: This isn't advice, but you have parents who despite their inevitable screw-ups, love you both so very very much. I hope you always know that.
*=not a typo, that's how she pronounces it
Sometimes I look at my children and I suddenly see them as adults. It's an imperfect vision: adult G is still obsessed with aminals* in my imagination, and I have trouble picturing adult M with much hair. But the degree to which both have grown and changed already sometimes strikes me and I think about how they're actual people who will grow up into actual grown ups and face ... the world. I don't have life figured out; not by a long shot. And I don't know what it's like to be a girl, let alone a girl in the 21st century. But there are things I hope my daughters can learn from me, beyond how to hold a spoon and which shoe goes on which foot. Advice is both a form of nostalgia, and a form of narcissism, but here I go anyway. In no particular order, in what might become a recurring feature here but might not:
A Father's Advice to his Daughters:
1. Don't let anyone else tell you who you are allowed to be. Not even me. But don't buy into the idea of being true to yourself either. There isn't a true self buried deep at your core. You are made by your experiences, your community, your choices, your tastes. The best thing about this is that it never ends and you can decide what kind of person you want to be. Your everyday choices can slowly make you into that person. When I say "don't let anyone else tell you who you are allowed to be" I mean don't let anyone else decide for you who you want to turn yourself into.
2. A sister is a friend for life. Your grammy had (and probably still has) a cross-stitch with that on it in her house when I was growing up. It isn't limited to sisters. The same idea goes for cousins, parents, aunts, uncles; it's true about brothers, but you don't have any. But I especially want to focus on sisters: on your relationship with each other. A sister is a friend for life doesn't mean that you will always like each other or that you don't have to be good to each other. It means that your family is with you forever. If you make your sister into your friend, you will always have a friend. And it means that even if you make your sister into a stranger or into an enemy you don't have to lose her forever.
3. Don't overwater your plants. You're more likely to drown them then to dry them out. Don't stress out too much over them either. Plants want to live. Just let them. It took me so very long to figure this out.
4. Read. This advice shouldn't be surprising coming from me, but I really can't overstate it. Read history and read science, read the news and read theology, read the Bible, read comic books, read challenging modernist fiction and pulpy adventure stories. Many things you read will make you a happier person, and everything you read will make you a bigger person. Read.
5. You are not in charge of anyone else's feelings. Be kind and courteous, be loving and gracious; but do those things for your own sake. Know that you can't make someone else happy, you can't make someone else better, and you can't make someone else love you. Don't be kind to people so that they will be happy, be kind to them so that you will be. Love the people around you because love makes you better. But don't worry too much about what other people are feeling. That is up to them, in the end.
And finally: This isn't advice, but you have parents who despite their inevitable screw-ups, love you both so very very much. I hope you always know that.
*=not a typo, that's how she pronounces it
Friday, May 25, 2012
Ability
At supper the other night, Paul was telling me a story about a father who is blind (a story he'd heard on This American Life by Ryan Knighton). G was listening and asked "What does blind mean?"
Paul explained that some people can't see, then went on to talk about how some people can't hear, some can't walk and some can't speak.
"I can do all those things!" G said.
"Well, there are some people in this world," replied Paul "who can't do all the things you can."
G contemplated this for awhile, then said "Some people can't fly like I can!"
Paul explained that some people can't see, then went on to talk about how some people can't hear, some can't walk and some can't speak.
"I can do all those things!" G said.
"Well, there are some people in this world," replied Paul "who can't do all the things you can."
G contemplated this for awhile, then said "Some people can't fly like I can!"
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Trip To Fogo Island
We've now lived here almost 2 years and while we've tried to explore the island as much as possible, it can be a bit tricky. This weekend, however, we made it all the way to Fogo island.
Our friend, Sam Martin has been the artist-in-residence there for 3 months, so we had a great opportunity to go and stay with him and his fantastic wife, Samantha and their lovable dog, Vader.
The two of them have become our good friends over the past year and a half and are, sadly, moving away to Iowa. We will miss them so much, so it was great to spend some time with them before they leave in August.
We had a great time. The drive up went really well, aside from a three hour wait for the ferry. Luckily the weather was good, so the girls could escape from the car to run around.
We hiked up to Sam's studio, a modernist box in the middle of a bog. It's a big empty space with a desk facing a giant window - what a perfect place to write.
We took a trip to a playground and four caribou walked by, looked at us for awhile then began to graze. It was so cool to see them right there!
We saw a few icebergs in all their glory.
And spent a good amount of time on a sandy beach. G was happy to play in the sand, while M was desperate to run giggling into the ocean. She's a handful, that one! Had it been a slightly warmer day, I might have let her experience the cold of the North Atlantic just to keep her from doing it again.
She's a bit skeptical about that.
Our friend, Sam Martin has been the artist-in-residence there for 3 months, so we had a great opportunity to go and stay with him and his fantastic wife, Samantha and their lovable dog, Vader.
The two of them have become our good friends over the past year and a half and are, sadly, moving away to Iowa. We will miss them so much, so it was great to spend some time with them before they leave in August.
We had a great time. The drive up went really well, aside from a three hour wait for the ferry. Luckily the weather was good, so the girls could escape from the car to run around.
M was desperate to get out.
G found a bunch of spiny sea urchins on the dock and kept throwing them back into the ocean so they could be free. We decided not to tell her that they were most decidedly dead.
We searched for dolphins and whales as we rode the ferry. G was pretty sure she saw her friend Joey the Orca Whale (her imaginary whale friend).
We arrived to Sam and Sam's great little saltbox house on Fogo. G was very happy to be able to play outside whenever she wanted. While G is in love with Vader the dog, M is not a fan of animals. She screamed and shook when he came near, so we spent much of the weekend sending both G and Vader outside. It worked out well for both of them.
Monday, May 7, 2012
The Questions
Mommy, what's the difference between a cheetah, a leopard and a jaguar?
Mommy, why do we have a Uvula?
Mommy, which My Little Pony do you think is the best?
Mommy, can you show me a picture of a jaguar?
What about a picture of a jaguar jumping?
I want a video of a jaguar jumping!
Mommy, can you please (actually, this is all one word - canyouplease) show me a video of a jaguar?
Mommy, can you be quiet?
Mommy, I'm hungry! Can I have crackers? A cookie? An easter chocolate? (no, you ate all those weeks ago).
Mommy, can I watch a video of a llama? What about an antelope?
Can I watch a video of an antelope eating a cantaloupe?
Moooommmmmeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Sigh. Yes?
I love you.
I love you too, sweetie.
(An average 5 minutes of my day)
Monday, April 30, 2012
In Which We Bring Our Children Up to Be Clones
I am aware that my children will likely have different interests then Paul and me. It is very possible that G or M could become interested in *gasp* sports. But for right now, we are happy to involve them in our interests and we enjoy the times when they imitate us.
Which brings me to this weekend.
When we lived in Manitoba, we went to Central Canada Comic Con a couple of times. When we moved here, we discovered Sci-Fi on the Rock, a Sci-Fi Convention here in St. John's. Since we are massive geeks, we went last year and again this year (and certainly will in the future). For the first day, G and Paul were Superman and M and I were Batman.
(spot the Eleventh Doctor in the background!)
The kids were some of the youngest there and so got a fair amount of attention. It's fun to dress them up as things we like and be a big geeky family together.
Which brings me to the clone thing: it's not the costumes, it's her. G was at a "How to be a Ninja" panel for kids where they basically learned a few martial arts moves and were encouraged to keep active. The other kids there were about 6 to 10 years old, some of them dressed as Jedi. At the end, the woman in charge had some prizes. One went to a boy, the other went to a girl, then one was up for everyone. She gave the first two away with some Star Wars trivia and the last, she asked: "What is Superman's real name?"
There was a long pause while the older kids seemed to be racking their brains. G kinda looked up at her for awhile and shouted out "CLARK KENT!"
She was so proud of herself. The prize was a (slightly age-inappropriate) toy bow and arrow set that she learned how to shoot when we got home.
It is truly our daughter who would love to answer a trivia question.
Which brings me to this weekend.
When we lived in Manitoba, we went to Central Canada Comic Con a couple of times. When we moved here, we discovered Sci-Fi on the Rock, a Sci-Fi Convention here in St. John's. Since we are massive geeks, we went last year and again this year (and certainly will in the future). For the first day, G and Paul were Superman and M and I were Batman.
The kids were some of the youngest there and so got a fair amount of attention. It's fun to dress them up as things we like and be a big geeky family together.
Which brings me to the clone thing: it's not the costumes, it's her. G was at a "How to be a Ninja" panel for kids where they basically learned a few martial arts moves and were encouraged to keep active. The other kids there were about 6 to 10 years old, some of them dressed as Jedi. At the end, the woman in charge had some prizes. One went to a boy, the other went to a girl, then one was up for everyone. She gave the first two away with some Star Wars trivia and the last, she asked: "What is Superman's real name?"
There was a long pause while the older kids seemed to be racking their brains. G kinda looked up at her for awhile and shouted out "CLARK KENT!"
She was so proud of herself. The prize was a (slightly age-inappropriate) toy bow and arrow set that she learned how to shoot when we got home.
It is truly our daughter who would love to answer a trivia question.
Friday, March 23, 2012
The Art of Negotiation
Me: G, you can't have crackers. You need to eat your lunch first.
G: But my tummy is all full!
Me: If it's too full for lunch, it's too full for crackers.
G: But my tummy has filled up all its mac and cheese shaped space. There's a broken cracker shaped space empty!
Me: That's...not how it works. But nice try.
G: But my tummy is all full!
Me: If it's too full for lunch, it's too full for crackers.
G: But my tummy has filled up all its mac and cheese shaped space. There's a broken cracker shaped space empty!
Me: That's...not how it works. But nice try.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Still Here OR Adventures with Sand Rabbits
Yes, I am still here and yes, I still have a blog. It's hard to find balance in life. If I'm honest with myself I'm not all that busy, I just don't make time to write. I'd rather watch Downton Abbey or Walking Dead...
Since my last post about M climbing a rocking chair, she has become quite the explorer. It is amazing how different the two girls are in personality. G was never a climber. She was an early walker and content to let out her energy in other ways. M, however, would rather go vertical then horizontal. She is scaling the bookshelves and I find her in the middle of the kitchen table sometimes. She's just starting to walk now, at 15 months. She'll do about five steps before reverting back to crawling around.
G is precocious as always, she's got a massive imagination and her world of imaginary friends continues to grow everyday. I think she'll be quite the creative person as she grows. Her latest thing is Sand Rabbits - an entire species that she has created. Occasionally, everyone in our family is transformed into Sand Rabbits with her, and we each have our own name: M is Sandy, G is Bouncy (because she likes to bounce, naturally), Paul is Squeeky and I am Nurgee (She has yet to explain exactly what "nurgee" means, but it's quite consistent). Sand Rabbits usually live in the desert, but sometimes travel to the North Pole and are the best animal in the world. Anytime we mention a characteristic of another animal, Sand Rabbits are better.
Us: "Monkeys like to climb trees"
G: "Sand Rabbits are climbers too! They climb ALL the trees."
Us: "Dinosaurs lived millions of years ago."
G: "Sand Rabbits lived then too"
Us: "Blue Whales are the biggest animal."
G:"Sand Rabbits are even bigger then Blue Whales."
The real best part about Sand Rabbits is their love of greens. G loves spinach leaves when they are presented as Sand Rabbit food. She'll eat a whole plate of baby spinach as a snack. Sand Rabbits are the best spinach-eaters.
Since my last post about M climbing a rocking chair, she has become quite the explorer. It is amazing how different the two girls are in personality. G was never a climber. She was an early walker and content to let out her energy in other ways. M, however, would rather go vertical then horizontal. She is scaling the bookshelves and I find her in the middle of the kitchen table sometimes. She's just starting to walk now, at 15 months. She'll do about five steps before reverting back to crawling around.
G is precocious as always, she's got a massive imagination and her world of imaginary friends continues to grow everyday. I think she'll be quite the creative person as she grows. Her latest thing is Sand Rabbits - an entire species that she has created. Occasionally, everyone in our family is transformed into Sand Rabbits with her, and we each have our own name: M is Sandy, G is Bouncy (because she likes to bounce, naturally), Paul is Squeeky and I am Nurgee (She has yet to explain exactly what "nurgee" means, but it's quite consistent). Sand Rabbits usually live in the desert, but sometimes travel to the North Pole and are the best animal in the world. Anytime we mention a characteristic of another animal, Sand Rabbits are better.
Us: "Monkeys like to climb trees"
G: "Sand Rabbits are climbers too! They climb ALL the trees."
Us: "Dinosaurs lived millions of years ago."
G: "Sand Rabbits lived then too"
Us: "Blue Whales are the biggest animal."
G:"Sand Rabbits are even bigger then Blue Whales."
The real best part about Sand Rabbits is their love of greens. G loves spinach leaves when they are presented as Sand Rabbit food. She'll eat a whole plate of baby spinach as a snack. Sand Rabbits are the best spinach-eaters.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Merry Belated Christmas.
My personal favourite is at 1:12 when she yells out "Like a lightbulb!"
Monday, December 19, 2011
The Messiah
It is nearly Christmas.
We were on our way to a party, and we needed to pick up goat cheese. The idea of the party was that everyone would bring pizza toppings, and we were bringing the ingredients to make a goat cheese, fig, and caramelized onion pizza (which is, incidentally, amazing). So with the kids in the back seat and snow falling heavily, we drove to the grocery store. I parked, while Jan ran in to buy the goat cheese.
I was listening to CBC Radio 2. They were broadcasting a concert from Copenhagen, the idea of which was to celebrate and promote world peace by incorporating Arabic and Jewish music into traditional Christmas music. They had an amazingly beautiful version of a number of pieces from Handel's Messiah, re-orchestrated with Arabic drums.
There's something about the beginning of the Messiah. The text is from Isaiah 40.
Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the LORD's hand double for all her sins.
I will admit that even when I was studying the Bible in university at CMU, I got choked-up in when we were studying Isaiah, and we got to chapter 40. I'm not sure I can fully explain why. The beauty of Handel's music only adds to the emotion, and in this performance the tenor (who was excellent) kept breaking away from Handel into Arabic music, which added a plaintive mystery and beauty to the already beautiful recitative and aria.
So I told G, "This music, that we're listening to, is very beautiful."
She listened quietly for a moment, then asked me "Is the man who is singing sad?"
"No, he's not sad. He's singing to God's people that they don't have to be sad anymore. He's saying: 'It's okay, you don't have to cry'"
"Why is he saying 'it's okay'?"
"Because ... God's people don't always do what God tells them to do. And when God's people do bad things, sometimes God punishes them. But here God is saying that their punishment is over. God is saying that they don't need to be sad, that they don't need to be punished. God is saying 'I forgive you'".
She thought about that for a moment.
"Like how when I do something bad you forgive me?"
I was feeling emotional already, and at this point I could barely keep it together enough to say, "Yes. Exactly like that."
It is an amazing thing to watch a child learn, to watch a baby learn to sit, and crawl, and stand, and talk; to watch a toddler learn to express her ideas, and show off her memory, and exercise her imagination; to watch a child discover the world, and God too. And it's humbling to think that I am responsible (partly) for teaching her. Human fathers fail to be a fitting mirror for our heavenly father. But what I want to do is be the kind of father who can be an image to my daughters of God's love. And I know I will fail, but I want to try. To hear my daughter describe me that way, even for a moment,--to hear her think: "What is my daddy like? What does he do? He forgives me." is almost unbearably moving. It is exactly the kind of father I always hoped to be. It also makes me think of God so differently to think that God's love for me is like my love for my daughters. It was an insight, on an emotional level, to realize that God forgives Israel--that God forgives me--just like I forgive G: easily and endlessly.
I said, "I love you, G", and we listened to the concert, until Jan came back with the goat cheese.
We were on our way to a party, and we needed to pick up goat cheese. The idea of the party was that everyone would bring pizza toppings, and we were bringing the ingredients to make a goat cheese, fig, and caramelized onion pizza (which is, incidentally, amazing). So with the kids in the back seat and snow falling heavily, we drove to the grocery store. I parked, while Jan ran in to buy the goat cheese.
I was listening to CBC Radio 2. They were broadcasting a concert from Copenhagen, the idea of which was to celebrate and promote world peace by incorporating Arabic and Jewish music into traditional Christmas music. They had an amazingly beautiful version of a number of pieces from Handel's Messiah, re-orchestrated with Arabic drums.
There's something about the beginning of the Messiah. The text is from Isaiah 40.
Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the LORD's hand double for all her sins.
I will admit that even when I was studying the Bible in university at CMU, I got choked-up in when we were studying Isaiah, and we got to chapter 40. I'm not sure I can fully explain why. The beauty of Handel's music only adds to the emotion, and in this performance the tenor (who was excellent) kept breaking away from Handel into Arabic music, which added a plaintive mystery and beauty to the already beautiful recitative and aria.
So I told G, "This music, that we're listening to, is very beautiful."
She listened quietly for a moment, then asked me "Is the man who is singing sad?"
"No, he's not sad. He's singing to God's people that they don't have to be sad anymore. He's saying: 'It's okay, you don't have to cry'"
"Why is he saying 'it's okay'?"
"Because ... God's people don't always do what God tells them to do. And when God's people do bad things, sometimes God punishes them. But here God is saying that their punishment is over. God is saying that they don't need to be sad, that they don't need to be punished. God is saying 'I forgive you'".
She thought about that for a moment.
"Like how when I do something bad you forgive me?"
I was feeling emotional already, and at this point I could barely keep it together enough to say, "Yes. Exactly like that."
It is an amazing thing to watch a child learn, to watch a baby learn to sit, and crawl, and stand, and talk; to watch a toddler learn to express her ideas, and show off her memory, and exercise her imagination; to watch a child discover the world, and God too. And it's humbling to think that I am responsible (partly) for teaching her. Human fathers fail to be a fitting mirror for our heavenly father. But what I want to do is be the kind of father who can be an image to my daughters of God's love. And I know I will fail, but I want to try. To hear my daughter describe me that way, even for a moment,--to hear her think: "What is my daddy like? What does he do? He forgives me." is almost unbearably moving. It is exactly the kind of father I always hoped to be. It also makes me think of God so differently to think that God's love for me is like my love for my daughters. It was an insight, on an emotional level, to realize that God forgives Israel--that God forgives me--just like I forgive G: easily and endlessly.
I said, "I love you, G", and we listened to the concert, until Jan came back with the goat cheese.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
The Many Robins
G: Daddy, you be Batman, I'll be Robin!
Paul: Okay, you're Robin.
G: There are lots of Robins.
Paul: Lots of Robins?
G: You know. There's Robin, Robin Hood and Little Red Robin Hood.
Paul: Okay, you're Robin.
G: There are lots of Robins.
Paul: Lots of Robins?
G: You know. There's Robin, Robin Hood and Little Red Robin Hood.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Weekend Trip
We took a bit of an impromptu trip last weekend and it was great to get out of the city.We suddenly realized that with a car and no church responsibilities, we were free to go away for weekends if we wanted, so we packed up last Thursday and rented a cabin in Port Blandford for a couple of days, spending one of the days driving up to Bonavista (which is the end of one of the peninsula's of central Newfoundland).
Impromptu trips are fun, but can have their ups and downs.
The cabin was great. It was a cozy little place with 2 bedrooms. We don't own a playpen or anything, so we managed to make a bit of a nest in an open closet for M. It worked perfectly.
I forgot to bring our highchair, but M sat happily on our laps to eat. Parenthood does not have to be about bringing tons of stuff! We managed to bring all the things we needed for the weekend in one suitcase, our backpack diaper bag, a grocery bag and a small cooler. I'm pretty proud of that.
It was an absolutely beautiful drive. No rain, cool, crisp fall weather without being too cold.
One of the major highlights was this amazing playground in Newman's Cove. It had all the fantastic old equipment from our childhood, but the upkeep was great. Teeter-totters, swings, slides... G was in heaven.
Plus the awesome Merry-go-round. They just don't have these anymore. It was a blast. A perfect place to get out of the car and run around.
However, the downs part of "ups and downs" came when we arrived in Bonavista. We stopped for gas and realized that we had left our credit card back in the cabin at Port Blandford, and almost-2 hour drive away. We had already pumped our gas and through a (horrible) comedy of errors*, we didn't have money in our usual bank account. After much back-and-forthing, we finally left them with a license and debit card and a promise that we'd drive back to pay.
*It is quite embarrassing. It was a such an idiot mistake. I transferred money from one account into another in anticipation of our trip and, very stupidly, transferred it OUT of our main account rather then IN. And that amount just happened to be all but $25 of what we already had in our account.
So, despite seeing Bonavista's lovely lighthouse and beaches, it put us in a bit of a bad mood to say the least. We will definitely have to go back when we're all feeling happy (and have cash in our pockets).
Paul made the 4 hour drive there and back the next morning in about 2 and 3/4 hours, with me staying behind and praying that he didn't hit any moose!
In the end despite the frustration, it was fantastic to get out of town and see new parts of this beautiful province.
Impromptu trips are fun, but can have their ups and downs.
The cabin was great. It was a cozy little place with 2 bedrooms. We don't own a playpen or anything, so we managed to make a bit of a nest in an open closet for M. It worked perfectly.
I forgot to bring our highchair, but M sat happily on our laps to eat. Parenthood does not have to be about bringing tons of stuff! We managed to bring all the things we needed for the weekend in one suitcase, our backpack diaper bag, a grocery bag and a small cooler. I'm pretty proud of that.
It was an absolutely beautiful drive. No rain, cool, crisp fall weather without being too cold.
One of the major highlights was this amazing playground in Newman's Cove. It had all the fantastic old equipment from our childhood, but the upkeep was great. Teeter-totters, swings, slides... G was in heaven.
Plus the awesome Merry-go-round. They just don't have these anymore. It was a blast. A perfect place to get out of the car and run around.
However, the downs part of "ups and downs" came when we arrived in Bonavista. We stopped for gas and realized that we had left our credit card back in the cabin at Port Blandford, and almost-2 hour drive away. We had already pumped our gas and through a (horrible) comedy of errors*, we didn't have money in our usual bank account. After much back-and-forthing, we finally left them with a license and debit card and a promise that we'd drive back to pay.
*It is quite embarrassing. It was a such an idiot mistake. I transferred money from one account into another in anticipation of our trip and, very stupidly, transferred it OUT of our main account rather then IN. And that amount just happened to be all but $25 of what we already had in our account.
Paul made the 4 hour drive there and back the next morning in about 2 and 3/4 hours, with me staying behind and praying that he didn't hit any moose!
In the end despite the frustration, it was fantastic to get out of town and see new parts of this beautiful province.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Halloween
...And after an unplanned month off of blogging, I am back.
So, it's Halloween! I always enjoy getting dressed up and getting my kids dressed up. This year has been a superhero year. G chose to be Green Lantern and the rest of the costumes easily fell into place.
Evildoers, beware!
At the local comic book store - we entered their costume contest.
I've been meaning to make a Batgirl hoodie ever since I saw a pattern online, and this year I finally had the time and energy to do it! Paul was Clark Kent (there is a Superman t-shirt under that white shirt), M was a baby Batman and I made G a Green Lantern costume.
G had a chance to wear her costume on Friday at Storytime, then again on Saturday for the contest at the comic book store and for a Haunted Hike at the "Boo-tanical" Gardens, again on Sunday for church and now today for Halloween!
We planned to go trick-or-treating, but the weather is very crummy right now. Windy with a side of rain. So, we'll see how much we actually end up doing.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
"Tell it Backwards"
Like most three year olds, G loves stories. If she had her way someone would be either reading her a book or making up a story for her at all times.
And, again like most three year olds, she likes to hear her favourite books over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.
But when even she starts to get tired of the repetition, she asks of a little variation on the familiar. Lately she has a new request. "Read it backwards."
When you read "The Little Red Hen" normally it's a story about a hen who finds a grain of wheat and makes it into bread without anybody's help, and then eats the bread also with nobody's help.
But when you read it backwards it's the story of a hen who wakes up and invites all her friends to eat bread for breakfast with her. They say no thank you, but she likes the bread so much she decides to make another loaf. Then she sells some flour to the mill in exchange for some grain, and offers the grain to her friends. They say no thank you again so she ends her day by doing some gardening.
Normally "The Little Engine that Could" is the story of a broken down train that is eventually rescued by a little blue engine who takes them over the mountain.
But when you read it backwards it's the story of a blue engine who abandons her train after bringing it over the mountain. No other engines will help, until the dolls and toys fix a broken down engine which takes them back home.
And when you read "The Cat in the Hat" backwards it is exactly the same.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
New Photographer
G has discovered how to use our camera. Out of the hundreds of ones like this:
and this:
There are also some interesting ones from a tiny person's perspective.
And, of course, plenty of her sister:
Her Mommy:
And herself:
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Three Years Old
So G turned three years old on Monday.
We gave her a very large box.
It was a trunk full of costumes.
Like Hats.
And a Superman outfit.
Then we ate cake. On her request it was Chocolate and Chocolate, shaped like a bunny.
"What did you get for your birthday, G?"
"PRESENTS!"
Thursday, August 4, 2011
The Fox and the Raccoon: a 2 year old's story
G tells stories and asks for stories constantly. I recorded one for posterity a little while ago, and her storytelling has improved in the past seven months. So here is a story she told me this afternoon.
Once upon a time...
there was a little little little fox who lived in the middle of the tree:
And he said: "Why can't we eat crench?"
"No, No, NO" said the raccoon.
"But I want to" said the fox
"No no no, it's crumply" said the raccoon.
"We are going to get crench" said the fox "we are going to the woods"
"But I thought If we go to the woods, we must get ready to go"
said the raccoon
"But we must stay sitting next to the tree" said the fox
"French?" said the fox "Crench!"
"I don't know" said the raccoon " I don't eat any"
"Crench is not food!" Said the fox
"We should go to the city" said the raccoon
"No, we should just stay home" said the fox
"Yesterday" said the fox " We should just go yesterday"
Then the fox said nothing.
Then the world was back. The end.
Once upon a time...
there was a little little little fox who lived in the middle of the tree:
And he said: "Why can't we eat crench?"
"No, No, NO" said the raccoon.
"But I want to" said the fox
"No no no, it's crumply" said the raccoon.
"We are going to get crench" said the fox "we are going to the woods"
"But I thought If we go to the woods, we must get ready to go"
said the raccoon
"But we must stay sitting next to the tree" said the fox
"French?" said the fox "Crench!"
"I don't know" said the raccoon " I don't eat any"
"Crench is not food!" Said the fox
"We should go to the city" said the raccoon
"No, we should just stay home" said the fox
"Yesterday" said the fox " We should just go yesterday"
Then the fox said nothing.
Then the world was back. The end.
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