Is there any excuse for a such a delay?

We're guessing not, so we're throwing pictures at the problem. At least the subheading of the blog is accurate. Here are a few shots of a recent trip to Lake O'Hara. One cabin, 15 people, and two giant mattresses at the end of the cabin. Can there be a sleepover more made for the Lovett-Hammel girls?

On the bus for the ride to the Lake.

 

Cabins in a feild...

Puppy ponchos for rainy hikes.

 

Mists over the mountains.

Yes, I'm pretty sure that this went on for some time.

Trading High Park for a high park

We've got big news, friends. Our family is moving to Banff, Alberta in just over a month. It's a huge change for us, and one that we think is going to be incredible in many different ways.

This week, after taking us on a virtual tour, two of my new colleagues sent this picture to me, saying "Look who dropped by to introduce himself!" We can't wait to be this close to nature on a more regular basis, and we hope you will come and visit us in the mountains in the near future. I'll post whatever stories come to us on our adventure soon...for now I'm a bit overwhelmed with details and dissertation writing...onwards and upwards!

Can you help us predict how many boxes we'll need to move the Lovett Hammel Family to Alberta?

Overdue Pics and Post

My friend N. took some shots of Morgen and Lillian outside of Morgen's Junior Kindergarten class last week...and since these photos weren't then trapped on my broken camera, or mysteriously warped by my quirky computer, I've been able to post them here.

The little Lovett Hammel girls are getting bigger every day.

 

 

 

To the lost crew of the Intrepid Tank

God speed.

Or, as Morgen says "Awww. That's ok. Now we have a nice bowl of water to look at."

Time to clean and test the water again, and then ready our hearts for the rookie crew.

But first...does this seem suspicious to anyone else? When we purchased our first three, healthy looking platies, the pet store guaranteed them for 14 days.  One died while we were on vacation...and so, feeling guilty, we didn't pursue a replacement. Two went belly up on day 15. Coincidence? Evil plot? Or am I simply a very bad fish whisperer?

Complete my survey, if you dare.

The "Poor-Substitute-for-a-Pony" Tank

Before Gavin and I were married, I moved into a bungalo in Mimico and bought, of all things, a very small fishtank. I called it my "three gallons of liquid happiness." I filled it with beige stones, a plant, and seven neon cardinal tetras that I named after the Borg (one-of-seven, two-of-seven, three-of-seven...you get it).

If we were speaking in person, this is where I would tell you to stop me if I'd already told you the story about the tank's evolution from "three gallons of liquid happiness" to "three gallons of liquid deathtrap." And this is also where I'll stop telling that story now, and tell you the one I logged in to write about.

Ever since my friend shared the news on his blog about his son's idyllic daycare, where they have hamsters and fish, and bring in actual ponies to entertain and enlighten the children, I've been stewing about the lack of animals in the otherwise nurturing, empowering, and safe daycare that my children attend and for which we are very grateful.  (I mean, COME ON! Is it fair to the rest of the pony-starved children for some to get rides at preschool, and not others? I'm happy for him, I really am...but the sheer number of animals at that preschool was amazing to me.) I started asking other parents whether they have pets in their preschool classrooms.

And eventually I decided that our daycare needed a fish tank. Or to be more accurate, I decided that it needed a second fish tank. One for fish. The preschool room already has a tank, but it is filled with plants.

I did a bunch of reading about what kinds of aquariums are good for an educational setting. I asked a teacher in the toddler room if she would care for some fish if I provided the tank. I weighed the benefits of really big tanks (harder to kill fish) with the benefits of really small tanks (easier to fit into small spaces). This morning I brought my donation into daycare, while Morgen and Lillian bounced around begging the teacher if they could take it out of the box and play with it. It's shatterproof, of a medium-to-small size, and soon, once we've washed it and filled it with faux river rocks and water plants, and waited for the good tank bugs to grow, we'll introduce a few, hopefully hardy, fish into the environment....

While we were picking out our daycare's new tank, we also bought a new tank for our living room.  I'm not sure what to call it yet. Maybe the "Intrepid." Or maybe we'll call it the "Poor-substitute-for-a-pony Tank." Thanks for the inspiration, friends with children in super-cool daycare programs...and please wish those daycare fish luck.

Sister Pics

 

At the zoo, posing for a sister pic.

 

Good habits start early?

 

Stickers together. 

 

This is what it looks like when Lillian decides she needs to sit on "My Morgen," and Morgen decides to let her.

What you might have overheard at swim class

[In the gender neutral echo chamber they call a family change room]

Lillian: I see your belly button!!! I see your....NIPPLES!
Me: You've seen it all before, sweetie. Use your inside voice please.
Morgen: MOM, WHY ARE YOUR BREASTS FLAT LIKE PANCAKES? THEY'RE FLAT LIKE PANCAKES MOM!!!
Me: [pause]
Lillian: HA!

I confess I had no witty come back.

Quiet on the virtual front...but loud loud loud in real life.

If this picture doesn't say it all, I don't know what does. We've been busy.

I passed my major field exam, but still have an ethics protocol, committee selection, and language examination between me and the ever-elusive "ABD" designation. Gavin has been busy in the archives of his office, preserving history and marvelling at corporate enterprise. Lillian has had her first hair cut, and is busy telling everyone to remember their hat and "suncream" now that it's hot outside. Morgen has turned 4, and of course that means she doesn't need to nap any more.  For real.

For Lillian

- castles -

(my youngest daughter

pointing to the turrets)

- High Park -

high in her stroller,

watching fast flights of people

chasing health

we live in a basement apartment

pay the rent

neglect the upkeep

place plants on window sills

watch water disappear

we mop paint from the walls

scrape the table after meals

toss toys into buckets

and smile over the way

she yells at us

one of the small ones

she sings and sings

she should be sleeping

but

- no -

never still

my youngest waves like catgrass

winds her watcher

and points

says she wants to go in

- in -

to the castles.

Eating or Escaping: two takes on the same car ride.

This morning's conversation in the car went something like this.

Lillian: [stops singing to herself. Pauses.] I wanna see Gramma!

Me: Grandma is not here, sweetie.

Lillian: I wanna see Gramma!

Morgen: [snickers]

Me: should we ask Grandma to come for a visit?

Lillian: [pause] I want a muffin!

Me: [???]

Gavin: I think she means timbit. She thinks muffin means timbit.

Morgen: [smiles and giggles]

Me: Morgen, are you smiling because your sister is so funny?

Morgen: No, I'm smiling because I'm thinking about going far away from here! On a SPACE SHIP! To OUTER SPACE! hahaha.

Twenty minutes before, I'd been trying to teach the kids the lyrics to "Born to be Wild," because that is what my dad always played for us when we went somewhere fun in the car...and then I gave up because it wasn't making much of an impression. Three days ago Grandma and Grandpa Lovett came by with a big box of timbits...it takes a lot of recall and a certain amount of free association to keep up with the little Lovett-Hammels' conversations these days. But if you get lost, a good rule of thumb is this: Lillian is usually thinking about food, and Morgen is usually thinking about escape.

Happy New Year! In the past month, Morgen has discovered a love of wrapping presents, and Lillian has learned to take off her shirt all by herself. "There is always one," says her daycare worker.

We've learned and grown so much over the past year...bring on 2012.

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...)