Friday, April 29, 2011

It's a Bird ... It's a Plane

Dear other house: thank you for being done and leaving us alone. 

The other house has actually been done for a while but after taking so much longer than we thought to complete (and of course more dollars than we thought) we’ve been taking a super nice mental vacation from everything that-house related. This little vacay has been made possible by the amazing efforts and skill of Rob (and his dad and his mom and his brother and his cousin and his other cousin). There are no leaky toilets, no leaky windows, and no drafty doorways. Nothing. No reason for anyone to ring us in the middle of the night (unless they somehow lock themselves out of their bedrooms or don’t know how to make rice – other kinda funny stories for other times). 

In epic superhero form Rob and his amazing family spent every afternoon, evening, weekend and any other day not at work covered in dust and paint and insulation performing renovation miracles. It definitely hasn’t been easy. We’ve learned that what starts out as cosmetic touch-ups never ends at just cosmetic touch-ups. We’ve learned that we’re not the world’s most accurate project costers. We (mostly Rob) have learned how to install light fixtures, install windows, install washers and dryers, put up drywall, build new staircases, and fix burst pipes. We’ve also learned how to still save enough for a sailboat, how to keep going when you’re sure you’re on empty, and how to smile when you want to jump up and down and curse, curse, curse. 

After all this learning and nearly six months both apartments are everything we dreamed they’d be back in November (and more - including filled with tenants). 

You can see some before photos of apartment one back here. These are the after shots: 


Bedroom


Looking into the living room. 


Kitchen

Before shots of apartment two (courtesy of Frankie’s nanna who thankfully for us actually remembers to take her camera and to use it): 


Second floor in second apartment.


Second floor in second apartment.

After shots:


Second apartment first floor laundry.


Second apartment second floor bedroom.


Second apartment looking into other second floor bedroom.


Second apartment first floor bathroom.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Up and Running (and The End of The Boisdale Glebe House)

It's been a long time since I've gone running. Quite possibly the longest running break since I started running. There was the oh-my-poor-body recovery time after Frances was born. And then six or so weeks of vacation in Ontario. Then (still) a tiny baby who could get very hungry very fast and unpredictably. As the only food source I didn't want to wander too far from home. 

As soon as she began to settle into a predictable sleeping and eating pattern I was out the door. I ran once and my knees hurt a bit. I ran again and they hurt more. I was not going to give in. But the more I ran the more they hurt until I could barely get up and down the stairs. I bought new shoes but they only helped a tiny bit. I was frustrated and angry and sad and I gave in and gave up. I read online that joint pain could be a prolonged post-pregnancy effect as hormone levels return to normal. A glimmer of hope even though there was still a lot pouting and I assumed the worst, that I'd never run again.

I've been out running three times in the last week. My knees and I have never felt better. Here's to spring weather, park paths, boardwalks, sunsets over the harbour, strong knees and still getting a nice new pair of shoes out of a temporarily trying situation.

In less everything-turns-out-okay news, the boisdale glebe house was burnt down over the weekend. The glebe house had been abandoned years before but the church on the same property was still in use. I feel so lucky to have seen the inside of this amazing and beautiful old building last spring. I remember driving away from there thinking that it should have been made into a museum and not be left to fall apart room by room. I tried to find the rest of the photos I took the day we were there but I think they died with my last computer. And now the glebe house is gone. And the police probably won't catch who did it because around here it seems like they never do. Which is probably why it feels like there are more deliberately set fires on this island than anywhere else in the world. Stupid arsonists. 

Monday, April 25, 2011

Baby Laughs A Lot

Despite the weatherman's semi-dreary predictions we've had a whole lot of sunshine this weekend. Not as much as last year but enough to make us believe that summer will eventually make its way to this lovely (but sometimes cold and windy) little island. 

We had an amazing easter brunch yesterday with all our favourite amazing people. And its really hard to find a better meal than brunch: all the goodness of breakfast foods (prominently featuring maple syrup) but at a much more reasonable time of day. 

Before brunch I made a point of bringing the camera downstairs and placing it right beside the table hoping that if I tripped over it I'd remember to get a photo of everyone around the table but I stayed upright and have no pictures to prove it. I did get a few of Frankie getting ready (or our get one piece of clothing on the wiggly baby have a play break, get another piece of clothing on the wiggly baby have another play break, routine).


I was tempted to stop after putting her bloomers on since she was then the cutest thing I'd ever seen. More babies in just bloomers is reason enough to want summer here asap.


More babies in dresses with bare baby arms is another good reason for wanting the temperatures to rise.

Although we didn't do any easter egg hunting this year Frances did get to try a few pieces of her very own little chocolate bunny. Each time we'd hold out a piece for her to try she'd giggle before taking it and putting it in her mouth. This really was an excellent strategy to get us to keep giving her more and more chocolate. Up until now she hasn't been a very giggly baby but in the last week it seems like anything and everything makes her laugh. Oh my sweeter than maple syrup baby.

 Happy Easter!

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Her Most Favourite Toy



Nanna's purse!

(photos by nanna)

This Week in My Bookmarks

(1) I didn't gay park it. 



(2) There is a website called Tomboy Style. Life = so much more complete. 



(3) Backyard composting in ten easy steps WITH diagrams. Love.

(4) Are you an introvert? Do you know an introvert? More importantly, do you know how to care for your introvert? A funny and insightful and funny take on introversion: Caring for your Introvert from The Atlantic 

(5) Lastly, Tina Fey's Prayer for a Daughter from her new book Bossypants

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be beautiful but not damaged, for it’s the damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the beauty.

When the crystal meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from acting but not all the way to finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes and not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it.

May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her own heart with the sinewy strength of her own arms, so she need not lie with drummers.

Grant her a rough patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, for childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming magenta for one day. And adulthood is long and dry - humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers and the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a bitch in front of Hollister, give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, for I will not have that shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a mental note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes. Amen.


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Grow Baby Grow

Today we visited the pediatrician. We've been going there every three months to monitor the bug's weight since it was determined that she's small for her age. Each time she proved to be doggedly clinging to her own little growth trajectory which pleased both the pediatrician and her regular doctor. 

But not this time. She's fallen off her curve and actually lost an ounce in the last month. Although we made an appointment to see the pediatrician in another three months she was unfazed by our tiny dieter's loss, pointing out that she was happy and engaged and ahead of the pack in the milestone department thanks to her newfound love of walking. She said she could be making adjustments to meet her genetic height and weight dispositions which sometimes happens at this age (in other words she's shrinking to accommodate a lifetime of littleness and front row class photos). Given that I was the one holding her this didn't seem entirely out of the question.   

Frankie's eating has probably been our biggest source of new parent anguish. For the first five days of her life she was much more interested in sleeping than eating. She got past this but never turned into a big eater. For many months nursing continued to put her to sleep and I'd have to tickle her ear to keep her up long enough to fill her belly. She made a seamless transition to solids and we've yet to find anything that she won't eat. Finding a way to keep her still and seated is another story altogether. 

She hates sitting still. Most days feeding her is a race against the pre-programmed four minutes that she'll tolerate high chair confinement. We're on our second high chair and are looking to pick up a third this weekend - something with a full body five point harness. Baby houdini has figured out how to free herself from the first two and crawl out onto the high chair tray in the hopes of leaping off and leaving behind her most despised contraption. She'd much rather be crawling or walking or exploring or bouncing or anything but sitting in the chair.  

This leaves me torn between making her eat more than she probably wants to and her developing healthy eating habits. All the baby books and websites stress how important it is to let babies assert their own fullness and for parents to respect fullness signals. Learning on their own when they are full and to subsequently stop eating is important especially at a time when so many children struggle with weight and obesity problems. This makes perfect sense but is also means no "just one more bite" and no airplanes coming in for a landing. Meals times should be devoid of trickery, games and bribes (even pony-based bribes). In Frank's case this means sometimes having to accept that she is only going to eat three bites.

We're hoping to visit with a dietician in the next few weeks to see if there's a way to increase the calories she consumes without having to significantly increase the quantity of what she'll eat. I suspect we're in for a "put butter on everything" prescription. Lucky girl. 

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Happy Early Easter



We sure make cute cabaret bunnies.

(courtesy of frankie's super tech savvy nana)

Baby Legs


The "stop making me walk back to my 
mama for your own entertainment" face.


All this walking makes a baby thirsty.

Walk This Way

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Blueberries and Voting (Or The People I Don't Understand)

I once wrote in a paper that the world would probably be a better place if Ronald Reagan's attempted assassin had tried just a bit harder. I was only kind of joking. I was in the midst of being saddened and ashamed of the anti-poor sentiments of conservative governments in Canada, Britain and the US in the 1980s.

When I got the paper back the note from the professor had said that my analysis lacked nuance. Really? The policies of these administrations weren't nuanced! They were sweeping and prejudiced and unfair. Nuanced? Come on. I couldn't see a place for nuance in a world where single mothers were treated like criminals and corporate thieves were treated like royalty.

Today I feel pretty much the same about the right-wing governments of the 1980s. But when I sit and think about so many other political issues I am nuance. I am drowning in nuance. I see complexity after complexity and can come to no conclusions. I have pages of words that run in circles led by except for and unless and on the other hand. But we live in a complicated world filled with different perspectives and different histories and so I'm learning to appreciate this little grey space that is mine.

Except. Of course, except. Except a handful of things. Except voting for one.

I've been voting for twelve years in all sorts of elections. And do you know what? Its never ever taken me more than fifteen minutes to walk into a polling station, register (without or without a voter registration card), mark my ballot and walk out. So I don't understand people who say they don't have time to vote. If you really think you don't have time here are some things that will help you to find the time: get off the facebook for fifteen minutes, put down the game controller for fifteen minutes, turn off jersey shore and oprah, put down the blow dry and wear an election day pony tail and/or pass on making fillet mignon for the family tonight and enjoy some election day soy dogs instead (while you all discuss why political participation is so important). If none of these snappy time savers apply, Election Canada had you in mind when they thought up mail-in ballots. No driving, no parking, no line-ups, just voting.

I don't understand people who say that they don't know enough about the issues to vote. Its really too bad that there wasn't a central repository of information that we could all access from our homes and offices. Some place where the different political parties could post their intentions and opinions. This isn't the era of Encyclopedia Britannica - we have the freakin internet. Internet = not knowing enough about the issues is no longer allowed as an excuse for not voting. If you are allergic to the online please refer to televised leader debates, local candidate debates and every radio and television newscast for six straight weeks.

Finally I don't understand the people who don't vote for no particular reason at all. Because they don't care or can't be bothered. Even after twelve years every time I think about voting I am amazed that this - this fifteen minutes every so often - is all I'm asked to do for democracy. In the last six months 300 people in Egypt and 3000 people in Libya have died demanding the right to choose who governs them. Not  to mention the unrest in Syria, Ivory Coast, and Bahrain. None of this is new. See the histories of North Korea, Zimbabwe, Cambodia, Yugoslavia, Uganda, Vietnam and Chile among others. I'm not saying that if we all stop voting a dictatorship is imminent, but that maybe its time we start to show some real appreciation for the privileges and freedoms we have (and don't have to die for).

Since were here I'll quickly help with a few other "reasons" for not voting.

(1) Politics don't affect you. This excuse can stand only so long as you will not use/encounter any of the following: roads, schools, hospitals, doctors, banks, planes, mortgages, taxes and energy. Yes, its true. The federal government (and governing party) has a hand in all of this.

(2) The current political system is unfair and often my vote doesn't count. Not going to argue with you here. But two of the current federal political parties have included electoral reform and proportional representation as part of their platforms. Not voting now is not going to make your vote count anymore in the future.

I think that about covers it.

For good measure, and in case you came here for cute pictures of a baby and not a finger wag, Frankie meet blueberries, blueberries meet Frankie.


May 2nd: vote, vote, vote!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

If I were Prime Minister

Dog breeders would have licenses. And quotas. And no one would be allowed to breed new dogs until all the animal shelters were empty. Amen

Monday, April 11, 2011

So Nice

This was our first real weekend in a long time. Our first really real weekend. We finished the pier house two weeks ago but last Saturday and Sunday felt like reprieves - like maybe Rob was just on a pass and he'd shortly be whisked back to the land of leaky windows and creaky staircases.

But this weekend. This weekend felt long and glorious and like we had all the time in the world. We took part in a neighbourhood clean up, finished our own basement clean up, started some front lawn re-landscaping, drove around and looked at sailboats, walked to the park, restocked the fridge, watched an edge of your seat episode of Horatio Hornblower and spent all the moments in between reveling in the total absence of other-house renovations.


"Helping" put the groceries away 
(also known as taking bites out of all the tomatoes).


At the park: couldn't peel her eyes away from all the other kiddos.


"What are those big kids doing?"
"Hey big kids, run over this way some" 


Saturday morning garbage clean up baby.


Spring finally sprunging.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Baby Birthday Bunting



For this little bug: 


Who will be one in the blink of an eye.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Thirty-One for Thirty-One

I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking about my birthday. It’s still two and a half months away but it keeps popping into my head! Maybe because I can’t wait for the warm weather that has to be here by then. Maybe because I really want a new blender. Or maybe because of this snappy idea: a birthday bucket list: thirty one things to do (to try to do) in my thirty first year. 

But thirty-one is a lot, huh? Especially with a little and a return to work on the horizon. Imagine if I was only turning sixteen. That’d be nice. Since I’m not and since I’m pretty excited about the shape of this list I’m going to cheat and start now. Shhh. 

In no particular order – thirty one reasons this next year-ish is going to be the best yet. 

1. Switch from morning coffee to morning green tea.


2. Read six books: this doesn’t sound like a lot but lately I can’t find the time to read even one. Six books in one year will be huge. 

3. Grow and freeze enough herbs to last until next spring. 

4. Pay off my credit card balance. 

5. Sew at least one piece of baby clothing.


6. Go to yoga regularly – like more regularly than now which is twice a year. 

7. Complete three knitting projects: baby winter hat, baby winter scarf and mamma winter leg warmers. 

8. Make one new vegetarian meal every week – that’s fifty-two no-meat no-repeat meals. 

9. A little more music a little less CBC (for Rob who leaves public radio lovers anonymous pamphlets lying around the house). 

10. Get our grocery budget under control: actually stick to said budget rather than buying whatever I want and thinking it will come close which it never ever does. 

11. Make sushi at home.


12. Keep up (er um, get back to) the Sunday Sweets Regime. 

13. Not feel an impending panic when more than two things are out of place or in need of doing at home. Take ten deep breaths instead. 

14. Keep the bird feeders in the back and front yards full all year.


15. No more than one online purchase per month. Oh so hard. 

16. Plan a holiday season soiree. 

17. Publish The Turnip every two months. 

18. Visit The Dancing Goat Bakery/CafĂ© at least twice – once because the food is delicious and once because the drive is beautiful. 

19. Read the paper instead of the facebook. 

20. Learn to sail.



21. Learn to cook/bake with agave nectar.

22. Be on time seventy-five percent of the time amounting to a seventy-five improvement. This is tied with only one online purchase per month as taking the most effort. It is also tied with only one online purchase per month for making Rob the most happy. 

23. Keep this blog going in photos and words. 

24. Finish the living room redesign – we’ve still got two big freshly painted and freshly blank walls. 

25. Switch to cleaner greener cleaning products we can make ourselves and that make the earth happy. 

26. Switch to cleaner greener cosmetics that make me and the earth happy. 

27. Make chocolates at home.


28. Try Tai Chi. 

29. Get sleep. Get a decent amount of sleep. Get a reasonable and regular bedtime and ignore the pazillion other things to do. 

30. Take a fall drive around the Cabot Trail and hike the Skyline Trail.


31. Get the compost in the backyard cleaned and functioning. 

Sunday, April 3, 2011

To Do and To Done

Today my day book is empty and I’m basking in a Sunday sense of accomplishment. All those small things that have made up one huge to-do list for March are done: new license plate stickers finally on license plate (thank you police for not noticing that it took me sixty days after the deadline to do this), closets sorted, rooms cleaned and furniture rearranged, car seat shoulder straps adjusted to better fit growing babe, curtains made and hung, indoor basil and oregano seeds planted, entry cleaned, and freezer stocked with baby food. 

I’ve been thinking about going back to work since Frances was about six months old. By the time she was eight months old I was able to think about these two concepts together without feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me. Now at ten months I’m able to (mostly) push the sadness aside and focus on the practical aspects of this epic transition. Well, not totally epic since she’ll only be with a different care giver (who is the full bee’s knees plus more bees and more knees) for two-ish hours a day. 

And, despite leaving my little heart at home, I am looking forward to this new adventure: to more adult conversation, to more diversity in my days, to my beautiful walk to the office in the morning and after lunch, to meeting new people, to different kinds of accomplishments, and to an appreciation for the weekend that can only come with a week worked away.

Its just that as I go from spending all day with her to seeing her in the morning, at lunch and in the evening, I don’t want to be thinking about overflowing bedroom closets or the old doors stacked taking up the entry. When we're together I want to be thinking only of the three of us, of building block towers to be knocked over, and of fake chasing a tiny fast crawler when she threatens to pop a piece of fuzz in her mouth. 

Hence the to-do lists that rival those I dreamed up in the last few weeks of my pregnancy. In a way it feels like that all over again – knowing that very soon the hours I have at home to get things done are about to shrink almost infinitely. 

In a way I guess it also feels like if I do enough ahead of time this transition won’t be so hard. And so for April – clean car, get trunk (which thieves somehow broke) fixed, make baby party invitations, find a really good massage therapist, find a really good point and shoot digital camera, do something with our ever-awful basement, finish redecorating the living room, tidy the front and back yards, and file taxes.

Still gonna be hard, I know.

Hanging Out


With the baby in the stove.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Friday, April 1, 2011

When Things Are Too Quiet: A Series


I took all of the bags out for you ...


I can have my allowance now?

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