NINE

 HI! I'm 9 months old.  

LIKES:

Shiny stuff

Exersaucer

Exploring

Swings

Peas

Toast, bananas, pears

Blackberries

Playing with Liliane's stuff

Papa

Maman

But most of all:

Liliane

Also likes:

-baths

-to be held by a very select group of people 

-Dora

-other kids

-anything that makes noise

-feeding herself

DISLIKES:

Boring stories

Crispy spinach

Tilapia

Broccoli

Long car rides

 Also dislikes:

-formula

-bottles

-any suggestion of weaning

-any suggestion of daycare

-going to bed without snuggling

Yes baby, you are awesome.  Uninterrupted sleep is totally overrated.

xo Maman

Road... Repose? Reform?

I have been driving since I was 16 years old.  It was October of 1990 and after about 3 months of lessons I took my test, botched both attempts at parallel parking but squeaked through to get my hands on the Holy Grail - my license to FREEDOM.  In those days that freedom mostly meant picking up groceries for my parents but I could listen to any music I wanted to in the car! And I could sing along! Alone!

But like everything else, the excitement wears off, the "I'll go!" turns into "Do I HAVE to?" and then you find yourself living in the city where buying a car is superfluous to your snobby "I WALK to work" urban hipster lifestyle.

But since we bought a car last month, the thrill is back.  The idea that we can just GO gives me a rush.  We were members of Communauto for many years and often while we were driving back from some mundane trip to Wal-Mart Stéphane would say "let's go to Boston!"  We always laughed (until we actually did drive to Boston but that's another post) because ha ha - we only booked this car until 6.

So.  All this to say that yeah, yeah, the new car is amazing, we are so happy, blah, blah, but also to say that I had a minor revelation.  I GET why people are so crabby while they drive!  From the ridiculous state of the roads (I'm sure London wasn't this torn up after the Blitz), to drivers who forgot what a turn signal is to the IDIOTS WHO ARE TURNING LEFT BUT STAY BEHIND THE LINE WHEN THE LIGHT TURNS GREEN (that's a big one for me). And I am not kidding you, most days the only driving I do is to daycare and back, once in the morning and once in the afternoon.  It's a round trip of 5 km.  And even so, I still have time to get irritated.

So I decided to get all pro-active about it (darn you, Oprah!) and I made a pledge.  A pledge to not get mad while driving.  A pledge to wave my hand in thanks when people let me into their lane (however rarely), to always stop at pedestrian crosswalks, to not tailgate, to ignore people who think I'm driving too slowly and most importantly, to not let that anger get the best of me.

Zen, right?  Look at me!  I'm so healthy!  Yeah, NO.  I seriously take a deep breath and clamp my mouth shut at least once every single day.  Not for me, mind you, but for the sake of my two kids.  Honestly, that's the only reason.  Have you ever driven with someone who is angry on the road? Whether it's justified or not?  It's awful.  And I firmly believe that it's a choice we make every time we get behind the wheel.  It's MY CHOICE.

Liliane is already parroting some of the things I say (I heard her tell Elmo this morning that he was to sit still and eat his breakfast, is that clear?) and I really, really don't want to explain the significance of the middle finger to a 4 year old.  Besides, she is already telling me to "GO Maman!" when we're at a red light.  Apple, tree, etc.

Le sigh.

My husband will read this and laugh because while I am attempting to be all-benevolent to my fellow drivers, my fellow parallel-parkers are a different story.  We live on a busy street with only parallel parking. (BOOYAH, ICBC!) Lady Elantra got her first scratch from a woman who didn't have time to let me leave before she squeezed in right behind me. RIGHT BEHIND ME.  I don't know if she gouged me while parking or if I did it while trying to get out of a now impossibly tight space but either way, if you drive a late-model Nissan Sentra, I WILL FOREVER JUDGE YOU.

ANYWAY, all this to say...  I am so impatient in other areas of my life (um, ALL other areas of my life) and it's becoming a full-time job teaching Liliane that she doesn't need to be impatient either (uhhh.... do as I say, not as I do?) so how about focusing on being consistently patient in this one, tiny area of my day-to-day?

It's a start.

Have a great weekend everybody. And drive safely :)

Eggstatic

Hi everybody!  I'm back and about to inundate you with photos of our Easter weekend Eggstravaganza.  

Saturday was what I'm hoping is a new Arbour family tradition: Easter Lunch, Cabane à sucre style! 

Yes, I freaked out a little.  No, no one tried to CLEAN THEIR STICKY HANDS WITH THIS NAPKIN. *shudder*

Ah, nothing like celebrating Easter by eating Christ's ears. No, seriously. 

I took a picture of this because it was my favourite dish.  But it looks like hotdogs, you say.  Ah, but they are cooked in maple syrup, I say.  Salty and sweet ambrosia.

Our friends (and honorary Arbour family members) Manon and Luana came along with us.  Manon was my partner in all sticky evasive tactics. 

My father in law took this one (Salut Maurice!) and I like it because you can see half of our table AND  a great view of my fancy braids. I so did not do them, calm down.  When I get my hair cut now, forget the fancy blow out.  I'm all about the braids. Especially when there is maple syrup in my near future.

 After lunch, we did a tour of the grounds via horsedrawn carriage and ate the obligatory maple taffy.  I think that's how it's translated.  Basically maple syrup poured on snow then wrapped around a popsicle stick.  A.k.a. THE STICKIEST SUBSTANCE ON EARTH. Yeah, Liliane got it everywhere. But it's deliciously delicious.  If it's not in your hair.

No syrup for you!

Pretty sure we had salad and lima beans for dinner.

The celebrations continued the next day, Easter Sunday! Due to scheduling issues, we did not go to church on Easter Sunday which was a little strange.  To me, you go to Good Friday service which is usually sombre and thought-provoking and frankly a little dirge-y, knowing that you get to go to the Easter Sunday service with all its uplifting music and generally positive sermon.  I missed out on the positive part this year.   Note to self for next year.

Before we left the girls got to open their present from me: matchy matchy Easter outfits! I never thought I would be that kind of mother but SURPRISE! I love it.  I know this is only a temporary thing.  As you can see, Alice is already over it.

SO.  Off to the middle of nowhere Beaconsfield to see what the Easter Bunny brought and indulge in Manon's amazing baked ham. 

We had secretly stashed our Easter treats in Manon's car the day before while the girls were running around burning off their maple syrup sugar high so that she could hide everything in her yard early Easter morning.

She prepared an elaborate hunt with 100 eggs in total (YES, ONE HUNDRED) but guess what? 

Horrible, horrible squirrels wanted in on the fun and scarfed a bunch of the eggs.  Plastic eggs with treats inside.  

I caught this one in the act.  Did you know that it's illegal to kill a squirrel? Yeah, I found that out later. 

 HA! Just kidding.  I couldn't kill a squirrel.  Seriously, they move waaaay to fast.  Sorry PDag,but come ON - THEY STOLE CANDY FROM CHILDREN.

 The girls didn't even notice, they were too busy running around NOT seeing the eggs that had survived. 

 They came inside with their booty and got a couple of non-chocolate items from the Easter Bunny (who is maybe also moonlighting as the tooth fairy?  Isn't that a conflict of interest?)

I think this was lipgloss.  Remember when you had that reaction for makeup? 

Yeah, now I only do that for  free babysitting and coffee.  

All around eggsellent.  (Oh get over it, I like puns.)

In the works: a post about why I am canceling my newspaper (I KNOW, 1975 called and wants its relevance back!) and an update on my about-to-be-9-months old baby.  

Stay tuned! Or at least don't be mad at me for my unreliable posting! How about a comment? That'll teach me to wait so long between updates.

Wordless Wednesday: Don't Tell Papa