Princess Day

Two years ago, there was a provincial election here in Ontario. During the campaign, the incumbent premiere, Dalton McGuinty promised that if he were to be reelected he would instate a provincial holiday in February called Family Day. As soon as he won the election, the date for the first Family Day was set.

This year, Claire's school made a big deal over Family Day. They did a whole unit on families and did crafts related to the event. So, as would be expected, one day Claire asked me about the holiday and what it entailed. I think she was expecting some big hoo haw like Santa at Christmas or the Easter Bunny at Easter or Valentine's cards or something...ANYTHING. DH lost one of his regular holidays to Family Day so I'm not a huge fan of the occasion. Hence, I might have been a little biased when I educated her about the day. I remember telling her that Family Day wasn't particularily special because it was a made-up holiday when people were supposed to spend time with their families.

At that point, she got sort of quiet and I could see her wheels turning but she didn't really say anything. But she kept asking about family day, even when it was over, and after a while I understood that the reason she kept asking was to hear the part about how it was a "made-up day". So, I wasn't all that surprised when one day she announced that she thought there should be another holiday in the year called "Princess Day". I wasn't sure how much she had fleshed out this idea so I asked her what was going to happen on Princess Day. Wow - did I get an earful. In a nutshell, Princess Day was to be a day where little girls had to wear fancy dresses and crowns and have their friends over to eat cookies shaped like princess stuff. She had thought so much about it that I didn't want to crush her spirit by telling her that she couldn't just make up holidays so I told her that maybe someday in the summer we could have Princess Day, thinking she'd forget.

Yeah....I was completely nuts to think the child would forget about her plans to change society with Princess Day. Once in a while she'd approach me with "Mommy, do you remember about Princess Day?". I'd assure her that I did and someday we'd try and do it. I had some vague ideas of how to make it happen for her and decided that maybe I'd make cookies some day in the summer and have her friends over to play and maybe that would be enough. I'm not a girlie, girl, pink princess sort of person so this was going to be a stretch.

Then one day, a couple of months ago, I went into Michael's and nearly tripped over a display of stuff to have a princess birthday party. Included in this display was a set of cookie cutters in a box shaped like a book. Eight cutters for a shoe, a wand, a crown, a horse, a princess, a ring, a carriage and a castle. It was pricey and so I left it there but I didn't forget.

More recently, I went to Michael's again and they had all the princess stuff on sale. I was already thinking of buying the cookie cutters and having the holiday because the summer has been dragging its sorry self along through heat and tornadoes and allergens galore. The sale tag was all I needed to spring into action. I called a friend with two little girls and made a date to have a holiday this Wednesday past.

Hosting a holiday takes a heck of a lot of work. I wanted to make it a big enough deal to keep four little girls (and one little boy) occupied for the better part of an afternoon. I warned the other mom that I would give them a healthy snack, but after that we were going to have to wallow around in a pit of refined sugar. I wanted the whole day to be cute and special and I did the best I could:

I made coloured chocolate lollipops shaped like hearts and roses:

The mothers ate the big lollipops (we deserve treats too!).

I spent the better part of Tuesday baking and decorating princess-themed cookies:

I couldn't bring myself to make horses or carriages or caricatures of princesses in gowns but I did have fun with the other shapes. It is hard to tell from the photo but the yellow and pink icings were Wilton Sparkle Gel and the girls thought that was cooooooool. I also recommend the Wilton Cookie Icing. It made some aspects of my job a lot speedier (No, I'm not affiliated with Wilton in any way but I do like their stuff).

I took the girls' little table and chairs set out onto the patio and set it with my fancy Battenburg lace tablecloth. It was a wedding present that I love but have never used. What the heck - may as well have a little fun with the thing. I also went to our local Goodwill shop and picked up some fancy cups, saucers and plates to set the table ($3.50 it cost me!). We even had an unexpected guest:

Yup, that's a frog prince! He has velcro on his hands and feet and the girls kept dancing with him. It was cute.

By mid-morning, Claire was nearly out of her skin nagging for Princess Day to begin. She thought the festivities should begin as soon as her eyes opened and end as she lay her head on her pillow that night. Mama ain't got that sort of energy, kid. So, I gave them baths with pink water (Crayola Bath Dropz) and bubbles and then we went outdoors for pedicures.

I bought that footbath when I was pregnant with Claire because I had reallllly sensitive feet and the only way I could get to sleep at night was to soak them in the hottest water I could handle with the massage action on bust. It lay dormant in my closet from then till Princess Day.

Then the friends arrived in their finest dress-up clothes (at that point my kids wanted to change into their dress up gowns instead of 'real' dresses) and we started the party. Claire served everyone chocolate milk from teh teapot while they ate blueberries and strawberries with cream:

Can't you almost feel the concentration?

My girls never get to drink out of cups with handles (or even cups that aren't plastic) so they felt quite grown up. Jillian was hilarious. She would bury her face in her cup, slurp out milk, lower her cup, swallow and then go "ahhhh" as if that was a posh, princessy thing to do:

Gulp, swallow, ahhhh. Her milk mustache was fantastic.

They ate two cookies each and then got to make necklaces with their names on them:

The big girls had more fun with that than the little ones but they did it quite independently and the other mom and I got to talk like adults while they strung beads.

All too soon it was time for their friends to go home. Claire didn't really feel ready to stop eating junk so I handed out ring pops with strict orders for them to eat them at the table and not move till I scrubbed them off:


All in all it was a fantastic day and one that we will remember for a long time. Heck, if Mr. McGuinty can make up holidays - why can't we!?

A Bedtime Snack

Claire recently learned how to use the water dispenser on our refrigerator. This makes me happy beyond compare. Honestly. Really, really, really delighted. This newfound independence has effectively deleted one of the many duties that I perform in my role as lady-in-waiting to future Oscar Award Winning Actress Jillian and President, Founder, and The Boss of You (and don't you ever forget it) Claire. Now, whenever they approach me with choruses of "Mommy-ah?" (the "ah" at the end is how I know they're about to ask for something), I can say "There are cups on the counter. Claire? You can get water for yourself and your sister". And she does it. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

One day she asked permission to put ice in the water. She is a little bit afraid of the scrunchy, grinding noise the ice maker makes so I was surpised she wanted to use that but I'm all about conquering fears so I let her. She pressed the button for ice, turned her head, closed her eyes and pushed. Because she held the cup too low (and wasn't looking), cubes of ice shot violently out of the fridge, shattered onto the floor and the shards spiralled all around the kitchen. I gotta tell ya - getting plunked on the head and shoulders by ice cubes wasn't my daughter's idea of a good time. Mine either. Like my mother before me, spills make me crazy. When things spill in this house I feel compelled to to hold my breath till I empurple while I search for my inner happy place. No reason for that sort of reaction really. Spills just seems like an unnecessary use of resources and elbow grease. I considered forbidding ice but since she had been so brave about it I gave her a lesson on just how to hold the cup to get the ice in there and how if she spilled even a fraction of a fraction of a cube she was to put it into the sink as fast as she could so our feet wouldn't get wet hours later. Things have been better since then.

Lately we've been noticing that Jillian almost always has her hands in her drinks. We are always telling her that it isn't mannerly to do such things and tell her to cut it out. She is a pretty good kid and will stop doing it, at least for a few minutes. I couldn't figure out why she only did it with some drinks at some meals and recently it hit me. She is trying to fish out the ice cubes.

Turnes out that Jillian dearly loves ice cubes. She likes how they slip and slide between her fingers and, being the thrill seeker she is, I think she gets a charge out of holding one in her hands and saying "it's really really really really cooooooooooold". I won't let her put her hands into her beverages but once in a while I'll let her do little science experiments with ice cubes and when it starts getting messy, I confiscate the works of it and that's the end.

Now, since Claire started doling out drinks, Jillian gets a bit more say in what she gets. Tonight, after dinner, she must have asked Claire for a cup of ice and received it. When I caught up with them, Jillian was doing this:
-
Snacking on ice cubes. She isn't sucking on them. She's chewing them. They make a horrible crunching/squeaking sound as she bites and she honestly has to steel herself to actually bit through the ice:

In the space of three minutes, she crunched and munched and chewed her way through half a cup of ice cubes and told me how they were yummy and that she loved them. I fear for her teeth (and my sanity). My own teeth ache just to type about it. Brrrr.

Baby Blankets

I think I was an odd kid. I always did my own things my own ways. As much as I loved being a kid, I didn't act like a child very often. I sought the company of adults and despised other kids (sweet, eh?). I didn't get attached to things or routines the way a lot of kids do. I didn't even play with toys all that much. I preferred a box of crayons, a ream of blank paper and my imagination over any Barbie doll or structured activity. I didn't have a favourite bear or doll or a thing I had to drag with me wherever I went. I was pretty much Vulcan from the start - practical, serious and not particularily emotional (I think Claire is a lot like I was).

That being said, I had a blanket that I really liked. It was pink and woven with a patterened, satin border. It wasn't a security blanket though. I didn't need to have it to go to sleep or rub the binding when I was nervous. Nope, that blanket was a tool, plain and simple. It kept me warm while I watched TV in the basement in the winter and I remember wrapping it around my head to pretend I had long hair. I wrapped stuff up in it and dragged it around the house so I'd only have to make one trip from the bedroom to the living room to play.

Given the way I was, it surprises me that I have always entertained this romantic notion that knitting blankets for my babies is a good idea. I pictured them snuggled safely under the blankets as infants and then being attached to them and toting them around during their toddler years. I thought of how I would have to repair the blankets when they became worn from all that love so they wouldn't be sad. I even imagined packing them up when they finally tired of them and bringing them out years down the road to show them. I even deluded myself into thinking that they would cherish these things and appreciate the work I put into the projects.

When I was pregnant with Claire, I made her a blanket. I used to lay her on it a lot when she was an infant and I have tonnes of photos of her with it as the backdrop:

It was a fun knit - Paton's Pattern Book "Baby's Little Blankets", Simple Star Stitch blanket.

When she didn't get attached to the blanket in the way I dreamed, one would suppose that I wouldn't want to knit for any subsequent babies. Nay, no so. When Jillian was born, I decided that she deserved the same thing that her sister got and even though she was late getting it, she got a blanket too. Besides, she was a fairly cuddly little thing and I thought she had the potential to get attached to something. She did get attached to something - her pink squishy doll "Dolla", and her thumb. The blanket was in her life but not essential:

It was a simple patten of my own devising made out of Sirdar Sublime and, regardless of how she felt about the thing, I loved it. Unfortunately, it befell a horrible fate when she was about 20 months old (click here to read that story if you are curious).

After having two babies who didn't really love their blankets, did I quit? Nope. I made TWO blankets for the boy-child. I made the monkey blanket for him, mainly because I thought the pattern was too cool not to make. Long before the monkeys (just after we found out we were expecting a boy), I started in on the OpArt blanket for him. I finished it before he was born but I never blogged about it because I a) hadn't taken photos and b) hadn't blocked it. I still haven't blocked it but last night I took photos of him on the blanket. Here he is:

Ignore the drool spot over his shoulder. He had 'tummy time' on the blanket and licked it a few times before I broke out the camera.

It is a neat pattern. The only downside is that it is made from the inside out and the rows get realllly long and realllly boring wayyyy before the blanket is done. The need for severe blocking also ended up being a downside for me but that was my own fault. I made this out of Sirdar Baby Bamboo and I'm fairly certain that even with a wickedly severe blocking, it isn't going to retain a square shape. The yarn is just too drapey (if I end up being wrong, I'll let you know). See the strange shape:



It was an interesting yarn to knit with though. It retained my body heat really well when I was knitting on it but within moments of putting it down, it would cool right off (to the point that it was cold to the touch). It also has elasticity like I've never seen before. Daniel used to like being swaddled and, in any other blanket, I could wrap him like a little burrito and he wouldn't go anywhere. With this thing, he can flail around inside his little bamboo coccoon all he wants, it just stretches when he does. It is also a blanket with weight. If this blanket is on me, I know it. In fact, when Daniel was a newborn, just laying it on him would prevent him from flicking around very much. Nowadays, if I put it over him, he picks up the edges and pulls it over his head or tosses his legs in the air and makes a little bamboo tent of it. He seems to like it as much as any baby his age likes anything. Do I think he's going to love it forever and drag it around like Linus? No. I don't kid myself like that anymore. These are, after all, MY kids and it seems like the apples haven't fallen too far from the tree.

A Conversation in My Kitchen

Ok, I'll admit it. Summer is kicking my butt. We had a great summer vacation but I think the girls had the best time of all. There were a thousand things to do and they had all sorts of relatives visiting them and doting over them all the time. There was never a dull moment.

Since we've been back home, things have gone downhill fast. DH has been in and out of town so it's pretty much me and them all the time. They are bored with their stuff and tired of one another's company and are generally going bonkers. Subsequently, I am becoming tired and impatient. I have enrolled them in swimming lessons. I put them in day camp from time to time so we can get a break from each other. I've set up as many play dates and outings as I can manage with Daniel in tow. I'm trying. But I'm failing.

They don't think too much of me these days either. Apparently, I am the one thing standing between them and the time of their lives. That great time would pretty much look like two girls gazing vacantly at Playhouse Disney from fortresses made of Oreos, gummi bears and crackers of all ilk. They have become focussed on food and television and will pester me from daylight till dark for snacks and shows. Every sentence that comes from their mouths is delivered in "outdoor voice" and starts with "Mommmmmmmmy-ahhhhhh?" (which is the way I know it is going to be a nagging request) or "Claire/Jillian won't let me/told me/hit me".

Honestly, from the time their eyes open till their eyes close they nag. I set up elaborate activites I think will keep them going for an hour or so but last about 10 minutes before they are back at the pestering. I set up an outing I think will be fun and they moan about the weather or some other trivial issue within three minutes of leaving the house. I'm out of ideas and there is still almost a month till school starts.

I don't blame them for being done with me. I don't blame me for being done with them. Honestly. I expected summer would look kind of like this so I'm not alarmed. I'm just trying to stay as patient as I can and understand that to three- and four-year-old kids a summer stretches on for a lifetime and coming up with ways to keep busy is hard. That being said, I must be much less together than normal and I'm sure I sound like a broken record to them. I just had this conversation with Jillian:

Jillian: Can I do a puzzle?
Me (dealing with Daniel): Sure. Just gimme a sec and I'll get you one.
Jillian: I want a puzzle.
Me: Uh-huh
Jillian: Mommy, get me a puzzle.
Jillian: Can I have a puzzle?
Jillian: Puzzle.
Me: Jillian? You are nagging! What has nagging ever gotten you?

The standard response to this question is "nothing" and I find it helps the girls see that they are nagging and makes them stop it. It is often followed up by Mommy Tirade 11a which starts with "patience is a virtue" and ends a little later with "besides, nagging is rude" (it's closely related to Mommy Tirade 11b which is about "when Mommy is talking on the telephone..."). Today, the answer was a bit more interesting:

Jillian: Well, usually nothing but sometimes it gets me in trouble.

Yup. I think it's about time I start in on those Oreo fortresses. I wonder if peanut butter or honey would make a better mortar to keep 'em together?

She's lucky she's cute:


Posing with her bandage.

Newfoundland Vacation Week 1

The first week of our vacation this year was probably the calmest one. We were lucky enough to have a lot of family around that week and so we spent most of our time close to home, enjoying the company of people we don't get to see as frequently as we'd like. There were some highlights of the week though:

Pretty much as soon as we got to Newfoundland, I got to meet my friend's baby. We spoke on the phone a lot anyway but from the last month or so of Daniel's pregnancy till the day I got to Newfoundland we spoke daily. I couldn't wait to get my hands on that baby and the day we got to Newfoundland, Candy came over to my parent's house to make the introductions. I was instantly smitten (I think he liked me too since I smelled like breastmilk). The following day I the honour and privilege of becoming his Godmother. He got to wear the dress his mother wore. He was such a good little fella through the whole ceremony. Here I am in church with the wee darling:

He's nine weeks younger than Daniel and that makes a HUGE difference. Daniel, who always seemed like my little baby, suddenly seemed like a giant:



We also got to celebrate Jillian's actual birthday while we were there. She was very aware that her party in Ontario was not on her birthday and that she was still two when she was eating her Mickey Mouse cake. On her birthday she got to go to the park and ride on the see saw with her sister. Parks are far less crowded there than here. It was nice:


Claire on the ride:


That evening we had a little party for her at my mother's house. Mom was nice enough to go out and get some decorations to make the event festive and we all had a nice time:

Blow, Jilla, blow! I still can't believe she's three.


Claire was fascinated by the party blowers. We got to eat Mary Browns fried chicken for dinner. Mmmm...they make it so much better in Newfoundland.

Even Daniel got into the spirit of things:


The girls spent some time learning to play hopscotch:



Jillian had a fancy style going on.

We celebrated Canada Day:

Well, we honestly did not do much but put on our Canada shirts and sing a few rounds of the national anthem. The organized events were packed with people and I thought it might not be very smart to take the kids into a huge crowd.

The weather was really great and so we also had some fun in the backyard:

The girls both got really good at blowing bubbles by themselves.

Daniel and I chose to stay in the shade:

Unfortunately, the horseflies were there too. I got chewed up by the little monsters.

That first week was really relaxing. It does not make for an exciting blog post but it was a week we all needed desperately.

I'll Try Anything Twice

Generally, I try to make it a life philosophy to try anything twice. Not once - twice. I figure that the first time I do anything, my experience may be coloured by circumstances within or beyond my control.

Sushi is a good example. The first time I tried sushi I didn't enjoy it. I have a lot of texture issues when it comes to food and raw fish fell firmly into my "this feels gross in my mouth" category. I tried it for the first time at the terminus of a very long drive through Ontario to Montreal in sweltering July heat. The restaurant, after that drive, felt way too cold to me and I was uncomfortable. I was tired, I was crabby and I didn't want to be trying new things. I wanted to eat chocolate and fall into a soft bed. I admitted that my first impression of sushi was bad and I think I even grumbled about it. A lot of people would have sworn off the stuff forever but I said I'd try it again before I made up my mind for sure.

The second time I tried it, I was in a much better mood. I was, again, in Montreal but I had been there for a day or two and was settled in. We had spent the day on the town, skating on an outdoor rink, shopping and watching the end of the Santa Claus parade (I love that Santa went down Rue Sainte-Catharine yelling "Joyeux Noel Etienne! Merry Christmas Sarah! Happy Holidays Elizabeth" just knowing that he was filling select children with feelings of awe and wonder). I still didn't like the sushi much but I was much more reasonable about it and much better able to pinpoint what I didn't like and why. If I ever have to go to a sushi place again, I won't go home hungry. I won't tuck into my food with a great deal of zeal, but I'll manage.

For as many stories I can tell about things I didn't like both times, I have others of things I liked both times or liked once, hated the second time and had to do a third time to know for sure. 'Rash' is not a word people often use to describe me.

However, when it comes to knitting, I am NOT a girl who tries things twice. I fall deeply and passionately in love with a new project, cast it on, knit with glee and then show people what I'm making and tell them how smart I am. If I don't get angry with it and stuff it into the space behind my chair or fall out of love and banish the thing to my basement, I finish it.

Half the time when I knit, I'm doing it to learn something new or to show myself that I can do something that looks tricky and when it is done, I don't need to do it again. I know some people make the same project over and over and over again but I'm not that lady. I'm a "been there, done that" sorta knitter. Till now.

Back when I was making Daniel's monkey blanket I showed it to anyone who would look at it. I'd tell them how smart I thought the design was and I'd turn it this way and that, waiting for people to oooh and ahhh appropriately (it didn't always happen but I tried). I was so in love with the project that I did the lion's share of it in 12 days. That's fast knitting for a heavily pregnant woman with two kids under five.

The danger of waggling my knitting in front of everyone who will look at it is that someone is eventually bound to love it as much as I do and lust after the thing. My friend Candy ('friend' is not an appropriate word, we've known each other since Grade Six and are more like sisters we picked for ourselves than friends) was 10 weeks behind me in her pregnancy. Every time I'd fire up the webcam and force her to look at the blanket-in-progress she would make little noises of desire. She hinted that I make her one and I immediately answered with a big ol' "this is too much work to do again...I love ya babe but no dice".

A couple of weeks passed, Daniel arrived and I used that blanket everywhere I went. Knitters and non-knitters alike petted it and told me how great it was. By then, the memories of the knitting of the blanket had faded (or had been trampled by the pain of labour) and the idea of making one for Candy didn't seem so horrid anymore. And besides, what sort of human am I if I am unwilling to knit a great blanket for the girl who a) was finally getting the baby she and her husband had wanted for so long b) I grew up with and love like family.

Then she sent me this picture of the newly-painted nursery:



Before I knew it I was up at the yarn store, standing at the wall of Cascade 220, matching colours to the room. Between the kids and the upcoming vacation, I didn't have a lot of time but in what little I had I managed to make a second monkey blanket. Together with a bunch of other monkey stuff I found, it turned into a pretty neat baby gift. I didn't get a chance to block it before I gave it away so you'll have to excuse the rippling border:



Monkey side:


Ring side:

I have to admit that I think I liked this colourway better than the original one. The colours just popped on the dark brown background and the whole thing looked really classy. I think my ability to knit this project twice had a lot to do with the fact that it is a stranded project. I could do stranded knitting all day and all night and never get bored. Stranded work goes so quickly for me. I need to knit just one more row to see how it'll look, then three more rows to see the full pattern, then 24 more rows to see what the next repeat of the pattern will add to it, and before I know it the whole thing is done.

Candy liked it and even though it was summer, she used it on the baby a fair amount (evenings are cool in Newfoundland). I'm really glad I made it. She was a happy momma and the baby is so cute he deserved it (and he can pretty much ask me to knit him ANYTHING and I'll crumble). Just look how cute:



No more monkey blankets though. Two was plenty. I tried it twice and I liked it but I'm done now. Let's knit something new!

Resistance is Futile...

...you will be assimilated (and drooled upon):



This guy is a complete charmer. He's got me under his spell for sure (and he'd have you too if you could hang out with him for a bit).

Our whole family went on vacation to Newfoundland at the end of June and only returned last week. When I went I decided to sort of unplug for a while. I watched almost no TV (I didn't need to hear all about Michael Jackson anyway), read no blogs and didn't surf the internet other than to order reprints of photos. I did check my email and update my facebook status on occasion but otherwise it was me, my family, my camera and Newfoundland. It was awesome.

I'm going to try to post a week by week review of the vacation for the sake of posterity (and maybe to lure a few tourists to the island). I'm hoping to get started on that in the next few days but till then - see how my boy has grown!?