Lollypops

This is what it looks like when you let your toddler bond with her daddy over lollypops:

And this is what it looks like when she finishes hers first and he won't let her have the rest of his:

Related news: last night, after watching her finish an entire plate of healthy dinner (ahem...yes, I'm experiencing some mild sugar-induced guilt pangs), I ask Morgen if she would like "A sucker?" Morgen says "Is it an eater too, Mommy? Okay then, so long as it is an eater and a sucker."

Once upon a time

Once upon a time, there was a princess. Her name was Snow White. She fell asleep in a dwarf's cottage because an evil witch put a spell on her.

A prince came and kissed her. They got married.

After the wedding was over she played hide and seek. And then they lived happily ever after.

The end. (by Morgen, October 21, 2011).

Happy Halloween from the princess and the bug.

Sunday before the Sugar Fest

Fraught with broken promises - no apples on the trees, no food at the restaurant - today's day trip still came through in the ways that really count. Here are just a few shots.

Lillian and Morgen on what might have been a decorative wagon at Andrew's Scenic Acres.

Moments after this picture was taken we realized that Lillian was attempting to eat the entire apple - because only sissies throw away the core. If you've never tried to eat the whole apple, I've got news for you: my toddler is braver than you are. Sissy.

And speaking of good apples, we also finally carved Grandpa Lovett's wonder pumpkins this morning. Or, we started to carve them. Lillian was thinking that we were going to eat them for snack, and was a bit upset that we pulled all their guts out instead.

Have we mentioned that she is teething?

Morgen, on the other hand, knew exactly what we were up to and was happy to watch Daddy do most of the messy work as long as her pumpkin could sport a sad face when it was all over.

As the happy-faced jack that we carved a weekend ago has been pronounced "sick" [read: infested by ants and nibbled on by desperate squirrels], perhaps this change of face was intended to frighten away future pumpkin eaters. Pumpkin eaters who aren't Lillian, at least. I'm fairly certain that she isn't afraid of eating anything. And if you haven't tried to eat a whole raw pumpkin, see the above comment re: the whole apple.

Happy Halloween.

Since September

Grad school...again.

Accepting change is good. Compulsive lily-dipping, not so much.

That is why I am hereby announcing that, no matter how strong the temptation, no matter how entrenched the habit, I will end my obsessive surfing of the not-for-profit job boards and focus all of my non-parenting energy on finishing the dissertation.

It is an awesome topic, I know it will make a fascinating book. And I really want to go to space camp/buy a telescope/delve into those questions that I see as connected but that one reviewer of my grant application described as "potentially trivial." Oh, you are wrong, my esteemed colleague. And I'm just going to have to try harder to prove my point.

Which means actually stilling my change-oriented self, and just reading, writing, thinking, and teaching. For at least two years.

Focus, focus, focus.

Two years is not a long time. Right?

So, should I block the job boards from my browser?

And then they gave us the turkey.

It is official: Gavin and I have been in Toronto longer than planned.

I moved here in 2000 expecting to keep it short and sweet - two years, tops - and Gavin arrived in 2001 expecting a similarly brief stay. Ah, what love can do to the best-laid plans!

We inherited this turkey candle from the latest of our grad school friends to leave Toronto in favour of very good prospects elsewhere. They inherited the glowing gobbler from its original owner, who placed it in a position of honour at her Thanksgiving celebration every year while she was here.

Having it on my piano is weirding me out a bit. It feels like the end of an era is staring me in the face with a glossy, waxy lumpy sort of stare.

Is this turkey some kind of amulet? Are we a mere few months from our next adventure? Hmmmm. And, what do I do with this thing? If I should, say, box it up and mail it to its original owner, would that be doing the "ceremonial passing of the turkey" a disservice? There is only one other person in Toronto who could receive it after us, and I'm not sure she would want it...or that she really qualifies, as a British citizen, to inherit the American grad student's turkey candle...thoughts, anyone?

Do you remember this waxy bird? Share some memories with me please - I'm feeling nostalgic. And did I mention, also a bit weirded out.

Sipping like her sister

Lillian's new favourite thing on the first day of their relationship.

After months of looking sneaky, making a fast grab and tearing down the hall with Morgen's water bottle in her hands, Lillian has finally received one of her very own.

It was love at first sight in the store - no second guesses, she knew exactly which one she wanted, and she cuddled it the way some kids cuddle teddy bears. She screamed when it had to be scanned so I could buy it. And then she laughed when I gave it back to her.

And then she screamed when I took it away so I could wash it. And laughed when I gave it back to her.

It has mostly survived her love. Within one week, the bottle was dented, scratched, and the orange cap was broken off, leaving only the twisty-sippy spout for her to play with.

Morgen's bottle says "Hydration is fun" and features elephants and bluebirds. She doesn't love it, but she knows it is hers. It still looks new, except around the spout where she has chewed on it ever so slightly. Lillian's bottle is covered in large-eyed, innocent-looking woodland creatures, and it has more war wounds than can be found on vessels five times its age.

I think I'll wait a year or so before buying a replacement top.

What seems like a good idea at the time...

...predictably turns out to be just another excuse for a bath.

(Please forgive the fuzzy pictures. I was too busy trying to avoid becoming the next canvas...and trying to keep Lilli from eating the paint...)

Start spreading the news

Gavin is making me a Manhattan - we've been home for three days now. The four of you who read this blog are probably wondering when you can tune in to Jeopardy! to see him in action.

The truth is, they won't tell us if he's been shortlisted. After being put through a kind of short version of everything that goes on during the television show (the public 'get to know you' segment, a simulated game play in groups of three with buzzers while the competition waited and watched) and then being tested again with another 50-question quiz, Gavin's audition group was told "don't wait by the phone." At some point over the next eighteen months we may get a call and an invitation to travel to Los Angeles on our own dime...or we may not. Don't worry, we'll keep you posted. Or I will, at least. Gavin is still very secretive about the whole thing.

But wasn't that a great excuse to travel to New York?

It was a surprisingly familiar place - around every corner there was another building or skyscape that I had seen in a movie, or heard referenced in a song, or had sung about myself when I was much younger. And while we did manage to spend a lot of money in the city, I'm happy to say we also found a lot of things that were "real good, for free." We also caught up with some old friends from my musicology days, who happened to have connections at a truly lovely restaurant. The company and food were some of the best I've enjoyed in a long time.

And yes, everytime I saw a mom with her kids doing any number of the fabulous things for families that can be done in that city, I either teared up, or just went ahead and cried.

Most of the time though, New York confronted us with marvel after marvel. I know real life is never that simple - I won't try to tackle the darker side of Gotham in this post. For a tourist, it is a great city.

Here are just a few of my favourite New York things.

Indulging my geeky side at the Museum of Natural History.

What is "Gavin's favourite dinosaur, Alex?"

I love this kind of art. Bas-relief? Walls that aren't just walls.

I also love seeing this side of Gavin. Without the kids, he gets even sillier.

Random words of wisdom from the decor of a seventeenth-century virginal in the instrument collection of the Met.

Jeopardy!

Gavin is going to audition for Jeopardy in New York on Monday. And I'm going with him. The children are going to Camp Lovett, and Grendel is getting some quality time with a cat-deprived friend of the family...it's looking like it will be an entertaining long weekend for all of us.

Please help us decide

1) The things Gavin should share on his "bits about you" form?

2) What should he wear to his audition? Let's face it, neither one of us has much fashion sense.

Three

My little baby is not so little anymore.

She is big enough to say "I will ignore you" and "I won't sit on the potty, Mommy". She's old enough to ask us questions about who made the world and who will play with her toys when she is gone "to dead." She has started to care about what happens to Grendel when we aren't at home, and to feel homesickness, and talk about it. On day three of a recent trip to Ottawa, she said, as if continuing a conversation we had begun moments before "...and I may never see my cat Grendel again." She worries that he is alone while the rest of us go off to school or work.

She likes her sister, but has taken to saying that "Lillian is not my best friend anymore." I'm fairly certain that is something she picked up in her Big Kids room at daycare. She listens closely there, and doesn't always know how to make sense of or use what she hears and learns - she just commits all the details to memory and when she can fly the words or phrases by us, she does...and watches, and listens closely...and evaluates...tests...tests again...

I'm not sure when all of this happened, but I know it is still happening.

I took a day off work last week to spend time with Morgen and see what it is like to be a Big Kid at her daycare. She was in disbelief for much of the day, clingy, thrilled to have me with her to play the whole time. Some of her friends were happy to play with a Mommy too - one said "Are you going to stay?" and when I said "Yes" he asked "Why?" So I told him: "To see what you guys do over the day, and what it is like to be a big kid." He then rattled off the entire day's schedule, and then looked at me, probably to see if I would walk out the way I came. When I didn't, he asked if I would read him a book...and of course I did, gathering three or four more little people around or on me in the course of the story. (on a side note: What exactly is the deal with the Backyardigans? I really don't see the appeal.)

At the end of the day, when I asked Morgen what she liked about being in school, she said "Nothing." There is a character in one of her story books that says that to his family even when there is something serious to report. She gets a kick out of that, and whenever she says the word I always look twice. Is this one of her many story book allusions? Is it a serious answer? This time, I switched tactics.

"Morgen, is there a teacher at school that you really like? What do you like about your teachers?"

I waited for that simple word, the nothing, the negative, her favourite recourse when I start pestering her with questions. And then: "I like that you were my teacher, Mommy."

One year...and a few weeks later...

She thinks it's fun to have a family chair dance at dinner time (think: yells until we all grab hands and sway back and forth. Then she giggles and applauds.) Seems predisposed to getting ear infections. Thinks her big sister's name is Muh-mug-guh. Likes to chew her shoes. Isn't afraid to hang on to the cool toys at daycare, and push those big kids away when necessary. Is still mistaken for a boy whenever we go out. Makes friends with strangers easily. Really enjoys cats. Plays "peek." Is sneaky. Has a sense of humour. Really likes to eat.

And she's one year old already. How the time does fly by.

Eleven months, four teeth, three stitches and one ear infection...

...but she's still rockin' every meal time and working it for the camera.

The Lost Month

So, despite the absence of posts on this blog, the last month has been a fairly eventful one. Christmas has come and gone and was mostly great - seeing family, visiting friends, etc. The only real negative involved a minor misunderstanding at the airport with Delta employees who insisted at check-in that we pay $12 for Lillian's ticket, even though we had already paid for her ticket online and had the printed receipt to prove it. Oh, and then there was the fact that we returned home on New Year's Eve to discover that our fridge had been turned off for several days. As a result, we spent much of New Year's Eve tossing out 3 garbage bags full of what had once been perfectly edible food but was now a fairly disgusting, smelly mess. (Unfortunately, we forgot to take pictures.) What a glamourous life we lead!

Perhaps most memorable of all, about a week after returning from our holiday perambulations, Lillian, who had just turned 9 months, proceeded to have a fairly serious incident at daycare. She needed three stitches on her forehead, but as you can see from the photo, it hasn't dimmed her spirits at all. In fact, when we went to pick her up the day of the incident, she was wearing a grin not too different from the one below. Happy 9-month birthday, Lillian!