On Saturday at breakfast, Reid declared, “Let’s have pizza for supper. It’s my turn to choose.” This was not related to anything we’d been discussing but seemed a burning issue to her. I wonder what we’d eaten recently that she hadn’t liked. When she doesn’t like what I’ve served, I sometimes tell her that it’s unfortunate that she doesn’t like it but Person X does and it was her/his turn to choose. She has figured out that it’s all about being the one to choose. Next she’ll have to learn about the limits of our pantry and the list of suppers I write out to help us decide. Those are lessons for another day, I guess.
Archive for July, 2007
It’s my turn to choose supper
Tuesday, July 10th, 2007Happy Birthday to Ken
Tuesday, July 10th, 2007Sunday was Ken’s birthday. I’m happy to say that he had mostly recovered from the intestinal bug that made him so sick Friday night and Saturday. He was still suffering from that affliction he is frequently beset with: delusions of anonymity. His primary symptom is a fervent belief that simply by willing Reid and I (and the rest of the world) not to make a big deal of his birthday (or other event focused on him), the day will pass without note being taken. But we just can’t do it. How can we not celebrate “our man’s” birthday? Wouldn’t it be just plain wrong? We think so!
Barb and Terry came to visit on Saturday even though Ken was sick. At first I cancelled but then Ken said that Reid and I might as well have visitors (and did he think it would keep us out of his hair, who knows ;+) Ken managed a brief appearance while we ate some of the angel food cake that I’d bought as a pre-birthday cake. Reid and I enjoyed Grandma Barb and Grandpa Terry’s visit. We had a nice lunch, if I do say so myself. I even made devilled eggs for the first time ever. Reid watched like a hawk as I peeled the hard boiled eggs. I convinced her to wait until I’d cut one in half. She ate her half quickly and snatched a second half before realizing that I’d already scooped out the yolk. She dropped it and it broke. I told her I could I hide it with the fancy yolk. As we passed the eggs around, Reid piped up to ask if I’d eaten the broken one. No one had noticed or at least they hadn’t commented but Reid remembered. We laughed and she seemed a bit confused. We went to the Science and Technology museum for the special firefighting exhibit. There was a fire truck and the safety trailer in the parking lot and a couple old fire trucks in the train gallery but that was pretty much it for “specialness”. Reid was happy to look at the fire truck in the parking lot, especially since she was allowed to drive a bit and then to get in the back. We talked about Sheila and Michael in Robert Munsch’s *The Fire Station* because they also rode in the back of a fire truck. She has talked about the big flashlights that we saw several times since.
On Sunday, we had a pleasantly quiet day and then had supper with Amanda and Nam. I made lasagna and apple pie. Amanda, Reid and I carried much of the converational load but we didn’t mind ;+) Nam and Ken seemed happy enough and got their words in when they wanted to. When Ken and I discussed what sort of cake he wanted, at first he just said “not chocolate.” After further consideration – or was it pestering – he agreed that an apple pie would please him.
Reid was witness to the discussion and assured us a couple times that *she* wanted a cake for her birthday. Let there be no doubt of that. They’re polar opposites about birthdays, those two. Reid is anticipating the BIG DAY and making requests for what is to happen. I’m not sure whether she will choose pizza or curry. If it is the former, I hope she’ll have forgotten about macaroni pizza by then. I have no idea where this notion came from or how to meet the request. She hasn’t got a list of presents she is asking for, though. I think she’d like a magnifying glass as I mentioned previously or maybe binoculars. She has been holding her hands to her eyes as hand-oculars off and on over the last few days. She might also like a scratch We have two scratch and sniff books at home. One is about Strawberry Shortcake and friends and is a bit syrupy and damaging to adult braincells. The other is a Little Monster book, a hand-me-down with very little scent remaining that is sniff-worthy, that Reid hopefully scratches at every opportunity.
It’s name is “Jack”
Monday, July 9th, 2007On Friday, Ken, Reid and I went to the car dealership to pick up our ice blue Dodge Caliber SXT. As we drove from daycare, we’d discussed names. I said that I thought we should choose a boy’s name since the car is kind of tough looking, or at least I think so. My first suggestion was “Joey” which elicited a “oh, no” from Ken and a “yeah, Joey” from Reid. Ken hadn’t finished groaning before Reid said, “Jack!” Ken and I agreed and started talking about being excited to get Jack. After a few moments, though, Reid started to cry and say that she wanted to keep her old car. I’m not sure why. Even as it was happening, I didn’t know what had happened to change her mind. After trying a bit of reasoning and failing, I “noticed” a dinosaur hiding behind a building and we tried to find it again. With my ever-so-supportive husband calling me a liar, I distracted Reid from her sorrow.
When we got to the dealership, Reid got excited again about the new car. We put her car seat in, let her drive a bit and then signed all of the necessary papers. There are many cool features in the car, well-suited to our family. My favourites are the plug that will let us plug in our laptop or anything else without an adapter, the chill zone section of the glove compartment that lets you keep cans or bottles cool thanks to the air conditioner, and the other two sections of the glove box that give us a better chance of keeping things neat simply by dividing the space. Ken was concerned about the size of the hatch but I found the trunk in the old car had little enough useful space.
Ken had measured our garage and then prepared the list of vehicles that would fit. I was told that we could get a Sebring, Caliber or Caravan (if we took everything else out of the garage). I suspect it was an edited list since I’m pretty sure, even with my awful spatial ability, that a PT Cruiser is smaller than a Caravan but the Cruiser isn’t on Ken’s most loved cars list. I rented a Sebring for some reason a while ago and didn’t think I could see out the back the way I should be able to. The Caravan would have been fine for me, except for trying to find a place for all of the things that currently reside in the garage and I anticipate more will need to go in as Reid’s bikes and roller blades, etc. get bigger as she grows. Plus, I think Ken has some mini-van-ity issues lying below the surface. Oh, and I’ve been lusting after a Caliber for awhile now. The only hiccup so far was that the hatch opens wider than our garage door does. Ken commented that he hadn’t considered that measurement as I said a silent prayer of thanks that I’d opened the hatch slowly and it had come into contact only with the rubber covered handle, and then only gently.
So far. So good. That’s what I’m saying.
Flashback Friday – How I told Ken I was pregnant
Friday, July 6th, 2007I wish that I had blogged from the moment we decided to try and conceive, barring that, I wish I had captured my thought while I was pregnant or, at the very least, that I had written about Reid’s life from when she was born. My memory is so poor and she changes so quickly that I know I’m losing memories at a startling rate. But I didn’t. I started writing when Reid was 2 years old. I’m not about to spend my life regretting this, though. I’ve decided to create my own meme and maybe others will pick it up. Or maybe it’ll be just something Reid and I look at and enjoy. I’m going to beginning and move forward though time, except that I’m leaving open the possibility of goint back even further or maybe returning to an earlier point in time once I’ve passed it.
The day I found out I was pregnant was one of the happiest days in my life but I have to say that *I* was the easiest person throughout the day. I’d gotten up and peed on the stick on a lovely Saturday in November. Okay, I made part of that up, I don’t remember what sort of a day it was but finding out I was pregnant after more than a year of trying probably made me think that it was a good day. I went out and bought groceries while Ken was still sleeping. I’m an early riser and he isn’t. Plus, I wanted to find a clever way of telling him that I was pregnant.
I returned home mid-morning with the groceries and found Ken quietly cleaning out the refrigerator. I couldn’t believe he would be so blatant in his criticism of my housemaking abilities! I know that I snapped and snarled at him, I’m pretty sure that he was taken completely aback. I’m not positive, though; he might have had enough experience with my innate unpredictability that he was only partially taken aback. Needless to say, I didn’t tell my beloved husband about his impending fatherhood right at that very moment.
After supper, when we were sitting together in an uneasy peace – I think Ken was afraid I might do something equally as unpredictable as flipping out when he did something as non-threatening as cleaning out the fridge and I was probably worried about something similar or maybe I still harboured resentment that he’d cleaned the fridge. Finally, I handed him the *What to Expect When You’re Expecting* calendar that I’d bought as a segue into the BIG news. Ken looked at the calendar and then at me and said something about not getting my point. Poor man. I told him that we’d need a calendar to keep track of my weight and the pre-natal appointments. Understanding gradually dawned. Ken will tell you that I am the least subtle person he knows but in this case, I was too subtle or maybe I was trying too hard to be clever.
Did I ever tell you we named our car “Grace”
Friday, July 6th, 2007Most of this was written last night
Ken and I name the equipment that we use on a frequent basis. It was one of those quirky things we discovered we had in common when we first dating. When we bought our purple Cirrus in 2000, we called her “Grace”. The Le Baron had been “Sophia” but it was a bit exotic, bearing a French model name. Grace, though, was solid and ready for fun. We were both excited to be buying our first car together and it didn’t hurt that was also our first brand new, built just for us car, either. We’ve had to put a fair bit into it lately but it was Grace and how could we complain. We’d planned to get a new car when Reid went to school – daycare fees should go down then and it seemed to make sense. Alas, I took the car for service this morning and they said it needed brake work – more than I thought the car was probably worth. I hoped that I was wrong but wasn’t. Sigh. I called Ken and told him the news and suggested that maybe we needed a car sooner than later.
The little purple car that has taken us so many places is just too sick to continue. The car that took us to the hospital as a couple and brought us, with Reid, home as parents won’t be around much longer. How sad this makes me! I’m sitting at the car dealership waiting for them to do whatever happens behind the scenes – I suspect a lot of officious nothingness – while Ken has gone to get Reid from daycare. I suggested that we should do as much as possible as quickly as possible because Reid will be here soon but still I sit here.
Update:
Ken and Reid got to the car dealership before I made it into the business manager’s office. The salesperson had given me a Mountain Dew, though, and so Reid didn’t mind the delay. She ate some cucumbers that I hadn’t eaten at lunch and was very good as the wait when on. They offered crayons and colouring book for the office time and we got through the process with only one small complaint. Reid got squished when I was signing the paper work but her protest was certainly within the bounds of acceptable office noise levels.
So, we have a new car. We’ll miss our purple car, though.
Ben’s soccer game
Friday, July 6th, 2007Ben asked us for weeks if we would come to watch him play soccer. Unfortunately, his games and Reid’s swimming lessons conflicted. Reid’s swimming lessons have wrapped and so when he asked on the Thursday night after swimming lessons were over, I said that I’d check with Ken to see if we could come. Ben called me himself (with Melissa’s help I imagine) to ask for an answer on Friday. I was flattered and caught up in his excitement. Ben is only one of the kids to invite us – or if the others asked when they were his age, I’ve forgotten. I think I’m closer to Ben because he was born here and Reid and I spent so much time with Ben and Melissa when I was off on mat leave.
Unlike so many other days lately, that Friday was mild and sunny – instead of hot and humid. We got to the soccer pitch about 6:30 and were still able to find a place right on the sideline. Reid watched a bit of the game but spent a good deal of the time kicking a soccer ball back and forth with her dad. I enjoyed watching the boys play and hope that Reid will have as much fun if/when she plays soccer. I know no rules other than you aren’t allowed to touch the ball with your hands unless you’re the goalie but Ken follows soccer and so will be able to educate me. Provided I can pay attention and not interrupt. I’m a poor student when Ken is trying to teach me things. (Surprised? ;+)
A spoonful of sugar has nothing on Reid
Thursday, July 5th, 2007You know that line from the song: A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”? Well, sugar has nothing on the sweetness that is my girl. Last night, Reid asked to play in the silly cupboard next to the sink – the one with a door at either side, neither of which gives easy access to the far end. I decided it would force me to empty the cupboard, tidy it and even choose some things to get rid of. We’re all talk about de-cluttering in our house lately and I thought I’d spring into action. Reid was happy to pull everything out for me. It helped her to be able to climb through and hide and to have fun. She liked playing with some of the things she was pulling out, too, and so it was a win-win situation. I set aside a few things that we just don’t use, despite my desire to be an ice cube-serving, steak-marinating kind of girl. Once they’re out of the house, it’ll be all the better. Now I’m wondering if we should have a yard sale …
If every de-cluttering episode is as pleasant as this one was, with an eager, cheerful helper, I’ll have to hire Reid out.
Dictionary of Reid
Thursday, July 5th, 2007Flamily – formerly “famee”; used primarily to describe Daddy, Mama and Reid but occasionally refers to grandmas, grandpas, uncles, aunts and “dousins”
Bike-a-sil – small and mostly red with black accents, this mode of tranportation has removable training wheels for when Reid is bigger and more coordinated. The more coordinated aspect is the most uncertain given her mama’s near-total lack of coordination.
Missile – Dylan’s mama, Mama’s friend, mother of Stephen, Sarah and Ben. Also known less commonly as Missa.
Poc-sickle – a summer treat available in many flavours, of which Reid has sampled onlu a few unless the people at daycare give them to her. I’ve seen her eat only banana yogurt ones.
Lots of me’s
Wednesday, July 4th, 2007We’ve been reading Before You Were Born
I showed Reid the scrapbook we have that shows me pregnant and then has a picture of her each month since she was born. Most of the picturs are even secured to the page ;+) Reid enjoyed looking at the pictures and described what was happening: “I a piggie”; “I in sled”; “I little” (she said this many times, actually) and that sort of thing. Reid seems to have a soft spot for her baby self. She gets an indulgent, what-a-silly-baby, look on her face when she looks at the pictues.
When Reid got to the section that has group shots, she was naming the other people and pointing to herself and saying “me”. Then, she looked up and said, “There’s a lot of me’s!” and giggled a bit. Ken and I laughed. Her delight at all of the pictures of herself was contagious. It’s true, you know, there are many, many pictures of Reid in our albums. Reid saw a picture of Dylan and herself and first said “Dylan’s baby” while pointing at Dylan. We corrected her and then she was able to correctly identify Dylan and herself the next time. “We babies!” When Reid saw a more recent picture of them, she said, “Dylan a kid. Reid a kid.” Aren’t they that and more!
How about you, are your kids fascinated by their own babyhood?
Think about what you weigh, now tell the scrawny teenager staring at you
Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007There is an advertising campaign for a distress line currently running on the buses here in Ottawa that says something to the effect, “Think of the most personal thing about yourself that you’ve never told to anyone. Now turn to the person next to you and tell them.” It’s an effective advertisement, I think, because it makes one think how hard it must be for people to seek help, even when they’re in a bad situation.Not to belittle the importance of the message but I had a little bare-all moment recently, too.
When Reid and I were at the Toronto Zoo, we rode on a camel. The first time, we just climbed on, no questions asked. But when we went back the second day, the fellow at the camel asked what we each weighed in a booming voice that would have done a boxing announcer proud. I gave an awkward and truthful approximate response (as accurate as I could). He must have doubted me as he pulled out a scale and had us step on. We were within a couple of pounds of my guess, though a bit over the limit he mentioned. I offered to empty my pockets and try again but he decided it’d be okay. Shwew, I thought, since we’d already paid for our tickets.
Reid was much bolder the second day but was still far from agreeing to ride on her own and I had no desire to ride without Reid. In fact, her boldness explains why we were riding again. On Saturday, I’d had to cajole Reid into going with me. When she suggested going again, I wanted to reward her bravery.
A sign at the ticket fellow about the weight limit would be a good idea. I have yet another reason to lose weight, I guess. In fact, I should plan to lose a pound for every one Reid gains in the next year or so to allow us to continue to share the joys of riding camels or even an elephant if the opportunity presents itself. Soon Reid will be big enough to ride such creatures without me and then I’ll have no excuse.
If you’ve never rode on a camel, I can report that you rock like you are in a small boat on a fairly rough lake, explainining the “ships of the dessert” moniker, I suppose. Also, they have very prominent spines that make sitting off to one side or the other a good idea. The ones we read didn’t have a particularly strong smell. I’d been expecting something vaguely horsey. They also were quiet creatures, walking the prescribed route without protest or comment. I asked about their “housing” and was told that they had a pasture that they went to at night and there were enough others that would have allowed an every other day sort of rotation.