September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

Anyone who reads this blog regularly will know that I’m a breastfeeding mother of a 3 year old (yes, really, she is 3) . Reid will stop nursing eventually but I’m not pressing the issue at this point. When Reid was small, we went to a Breastfeeding Challenge at the Place d’Orleans and since then, I’ve not got us organized and to another event. This year, though, we’re going to the St Laurent Centre to nurse and be counted. If you want to join in, there is a list of sites across Canada and the United States that are participating in the 2007 Breastfeeding Challenge.

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September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how the last day of a holiday seems to be filled with going home. As I lay in bed waking up, I was thinking of what needed to be packed, what needed to be eaten so that it didn’t have to be packed and that sort of thing.

Reid and I left Ken to sleep in a bit on Monday morning and tried to go to the highly-recommended Apple Betty’s in Morrisburg for breakfast. Reid was starving, ready to chew on her own fingers by the time we made it from Iroquois to Morrisburg and then to far side outskirts of town. Of course, the restaurant was closed. We went to the Macintosh Inn instead. Reid wanted sausages (of course) and I added toast so that the waitress didn’t think I’m a bad mother. I ordered french toast and the waitress warned me that they would be sweet. I kind of shrugged not knowing what to say. Later I heard her offering to bring the cinnamon and sugar separately. I’m glad I hadn’t had the option. The french toast that were placed in front of me were encrusted with 1/4 centimetre of cinnamon and brown sugar. It was a lot like eating freshly-baked doughnuts. Yum! I had to stop after a piece and a half because the sugar was making me twitchy.

As we drove back to the cottage, Reid told me that she and Ken would be doing the packing and I should sit down. While that sounded pretty good, I thought it might cause some stress in my relationship with Ken. I convinced her that I should pack the food and leave her and Ken to the the “stuff”. We all worked together for a while and then Ken and Reid went to the gazebo to play. She had asked me to go but I wanted to be alone more than I wanted to slack. It was going along swimmingly until we got into the car. Ken is a foot taller than me and needs the driver seat farther from the steering wheel than I do, surprisingly enough. I had the backseat floor packed. Oops!

We were only 10-minutes late leaving. Since we’d been told we needed to be out at 10ish, I thought we did well. We drove to Upper Canada Village and took the miniature train to Crysler Park Beach. I’d always thought that the train just ran in a purposeless loop but, since we didn’t use the only tickets we’d bought for it at during the Alight at Night event we went to last year, I had no real information. I’d never given much consideration to the term “miniature train” but if I had, I would have thought of the train as being short, cute and low to the ground. I wouldn’t have equated “miniature” to “torture”, as in “when you’re 6 foot 2, a miniature train is a form of torture that you endure if you love your daughter.” Poor Ken has such long legs that he couldn’t get comfortable even when he sat as sideways as possible on the little seat. He didn’t complain - I couldn’t fault him for the grimace of pain that crossed his face. Being short has some advantages, it turns out.

We got off the train with our basket of sand toys and picnic lunch when we got to the little train station at Crysler Park beach. The beach was only a short walk away. The sand at the edge of the St Lawrence River seemed “imported” to me, not that I’m an expert but it didn’t seem to match the stones in the river. I’m not complaining about the sand, though, since it was fine and clean and perfect for castles. Ken and I built the castles and Reid destroyed them with glee. I convinced her to wait while I built a compound with several castle buildings and even a wall. Reid was trying to wiggle herself into the hole I was making as I filled my buckets and so I made a point of digging a girl-shaped hole. Soon enough, she was laying in the hole and I was covering her with sand. Have I started a odd little habit or do all kids like to be buried in sand? Once freed from the sand, Reid offered a brief look of admiration, or was that calculation, for my development Reid asked if she could knock it down. She danced and stomped and soon all was flat.

We ate our lunch at a picnic table, disposing of some of the leftover groceries and then went back to the train station when we saw the train’s approach. The train ran every half hour, and with the unrelenting approach of nap time, we were able to stay only an hour. Plus, the need to do laundry was intruding on our vacation. We used the bathrooms at Upper Canada Village, conveniently located outside of the gates, and had to explain to Reid that we weren’t able to go to see the animals. We piled into the car and Reid and I were asleep 5 minutes into the drive. Thanks to his sleeping in, Ken was able to stay awake for the whole trip.

I’ve said before how lucky we are to live in Ottawa. Now, I’ll add that I’m feeling lucky that Ottawa is situated where it is.

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September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

Reid woke up at ten to six on Sunday morning. Since we were all in the same bedroom, Ken and I woke about then, too. As soon as Reid’s feet hit the kitchen floor, she was talking about going outside. I’d left the windows open until about 4:00 and the overnight temperature of 7 degrees Celsius made the cottage chilly enough that I knew to turn down Reid’s request to eat outside. We used the microfurnace to warm the kitchen and I cooked sausages (Reid’s favourite) and Reid made toaster waffles. I had to explain to Reid how the toaster worked first. She knew where to put the toast but not how to “flush” them. We have a toaster oven. She did a great job with the waffles and had fun, we’ll have to have them more often.

Ken dropped Reid and me off at Upper Canada Village just after 9:00 and went off to watch ships going through the locks. I saw more than enough ships go through the locks when I worked at Fort George and we decided that Reid wouldn’t enjoy the experience yet. We’ll take her to the Rideau Canal locks in Ottawa instead. Reid and I hadn’t been to the village in the morning before; we’ve always left home after lunch so that Reid can nap on the way.

In the morning, the costumed interpreters are busier in the morning or at least busy on different tasks. We saw some walking calves to the apple orchard to let them graze and using the pump to fill buckets for the trough. There were others raking the grass that had been cut the day before and some gathering corn and stalks for the oxen. We also got to see the men in the bakery punching down the bread and putting it in pans. The coals were still in the bread oven and I was able to point them out to Reid.

Over in the cheese factory, the man was stirring the milk as it cooked - it looked like pale orange cottage cheese since they’d already added the dye. Not so appealing, really. He explained about the process and also that the vast majority of cheddar cheese - more than 90% - is made in north eastern North America. He also told us that cottage cheese and cheese curds weren’t widely eaten until after pasteurization became the norm because of the “bad” bacteria that was in the milk. When I asked about aging cheese, he said that mild cheddar is aged from 2 to 6 months, medium from 6 months to 2 years and old for longer than 2 years. He said that in the 1860’s the main rule was not to eat the cheese before 2 months to be sure that the “good” bacteria had had enough time to destroy all of the “bad” bacteria.

We also saw a couple of men setting cauldrons to boil over an outside fire so that they would have lots of boiling water when they slaughtered the pig that afternoon. I didn’t mention the purpose to Reid, though, and while *I* saw the pig being cleaned and cut up later, I didn’t draw Reid’s attention to it. I’m sure she could have handled the sight. The area was clean, the people doing the work were respectful and it seemed sort of clinical. I didn’t think Ken and I were up to all of the questions, though. I don’t know enough about the finer points of running an abattoir or porcine biology.

For the first time ever, Reid and I took a ride on the carry all - a horse-drawn wagon that takes people around the village on a guided tour. Reid had never expressed an interest beyond watching the horses at a distance and there has always been lots of people on it. We were there before the crowds and it seemed like a good idea to propose it. The man driving told us lots about the buildings we drove by and also about the animals and crops - not so much that our brains filled up but enough to make it interesting. There are still buildings that I’ve not been in for 5 years and so it was good to hear what I’m missing.

We went into the print shop and saw a woman making posters for the Fall Fair that will be held on September 15 and 16. One announced the fair and the other warned “Beware of pickpockets”. Apparently some pickpockets followed a fall fair circuit since people carried much more cash when they went to the fair than was ordinarily the case. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this process before. Reid could relate to inking the stamp and had wide eyes as the press was retracted and the paper pulled off.

We stopped by the house where we saw the lady spinning last week and they were dying wool with walnuts. At the end of the process, the walnuts looked like charred black balls and the yarn would be a black-brown. Other than the cauldron over the fire, though, there didn’t seem to be much to see. The extra woman was weaving at a large loom but Reid wasn’t interested in watching her though she did watch the woman at the spinning wheel for a bit.

We noticed two swings in the backyard of the house next to where the wool-dying was happening and so made a point of going there. It amazes me that we’re still discovering things after all of our visits and I wonder what I’d do with a guest who had only a single visit. Reid had lots of fun on the swings - two ropes hanging from a branch with knots at the end and a wooden board between them. The one was too low even for her but the other was just right. I kept reminding her to keep her bum lower than her knees and she kept telling me to push her. It was a perfect activity in a perfect environment. There weren’t other kids waiting for a turn and the sunlight filtered in through the leaves of the apple tree.

We watched horses going in a circle in order to power a saw that was cutting logs. The one horse is grey and a favourite of Reid’s. I thought it was a white horse but the handler said that it had black skin and a white coat and was grey. A white horse has pink skin and a white coat, he said. The other man talked to Reid about the bark that was coming off the log and let her smell and touch the wood shavings that had fallen below the blade. No, not when the saw was working, when the horses were having a break.

We ate lunch at Willard’s Tavern, where we usualy have tea. I checked into the Harvest Barn, which is more cafeteria-like, but the prices were pretty much the same as Willard’s without the ambience or the view. I had a ploughman’s lunch plate and Reid asked for stew. She ate some meat and dipped her bread in the gravy and then spied my boiled egg. Since she asked politely if she could have my “fancy” egg, I happily let her have it. She didn’t like it and had trouble swallowing the bite and so I offered her a bite of just the yolk but that wasn’t right either. Of course, I had to taste it then and discovered that it was a chilled, pickled, hard-boiled egg. Pretty different from the warm, non-pickled ones I give her at home.

After lunch we went over to see a bit of the singer who was at the family activity centre as part of the special event. We were really there for the marionnettes but had some time to kill. Reid listened to one song but didn’t seem interested and I offered to go play outside. She shook her head and cuddled close and I picked her up. Before the next song was over, Reid was asleep.  I carried her to her stroller and she stayed asleep while a nice lady put the back down for me and then when I lay her down. We went to the quiet, shady spot of the path we’d walked down earlier for the first time and I sat on a little bench and wrote about our hot air balloon adventures while Reid slept for 45 minutes. I’m lucky that Reid isn’t ready to give up her nap, since it’s required at daycare. I also enjoy the quiet time (okay the chance to nap).

Ken picked us up at 2:30 and we all went to Prehistoric World. A one-kilometre long path runs winds it’s way through some gardens and a forested area and along the way there are cement dinosaurs of various types. For the first 2/3 of our visit we saw dinosaurs that looked similar to ones we remembered from school but had different names. There were a few sentences describing each dinosaur and so I’ll have to conclude they were properly researched. Still we were glad to see the Brontosaurus, Triceratops and T-Rex. We wondered if there was such a thing as “new dinosaurs” to go along with “new math”. The first dinosaur that really caught Reid’s interest was just being built. The wire frame shape was complete but the cement hadn’t yet been added. Ken dubbed it an “incompletasaurus” and we took a picture of it. He had names for the other dinosaurs, too. My husband has some trouble imagining cement dinosaurs as the real thing and he has a wicked sense of humour. Some of his alternate names were very funny.

We finished up digging in an “archaeological” sand pit. I’d read about it on the Prehistoric World web site and so had brought buckets and shovels. As we dug for dinosaur bones - okay, we were making castles, Reid wasn’t interested in digging for bones - a little boy came over and asked to borrow a shovel. He said please without prompting and we had a spare and I encouraged Reid to say, “yes”. His mom was somewhat horrified. I told her that he’d asked nicely and it was no trouble and then went back to playing. The sand pit was Reid’s favourite part. Without it, I’m not sure that she would have been as positive about the visit. If she was a dinosaur fanatic, like many preschoolers are, she would have enjoyed the range of types of dinosaurs. Parents see cement statues but I think the kids can imagine them alive better.

We had hot dogs and salads (good purchase ;+) and chips for supper on the deck at the cottage. I think the cold of the previous night killed the flies or maybe they were all sick with colds in their little fly houses. Either way it suited me. Reid had a hotdog and bun, until the bun “broke” and was unfit for eating (at least according to Reid). Then she smiled at her dad and convinced him to let her have the left over hamburgers that he’d been planning to eat. Ken is amused that Reid is such a carnivore. To be completely accurate, she loves meat and dairy products, likes most fruit and veggies and could take or leave bread. Oh, and she loves rice and pasta - will eat a plate of spaghetti noodles with nothing but parmesan cheese or a mound of rice.

There was a 3 year old and a little one about 18 months old, both girls, in the next door cottage. There was a little toddler boy a few cottages down. We saw some shy smiles exchanged and the other 3 year old girl said, “hi” but Reid didn’t speak. Reid is a reserved kid. She has some good friends at daycare but she isn’t the sort to run away hand-in-hand with someone she just met at the park. It’s funny. She likes to be in crowds but not necessarily talking to the other people.

We played more of the Winnie the Pooh Goes Together game and went to bed relatively early. Ken sat up in the kitchen reading and since Reid fell asleep so quickly, I even managed to get up for a while. We’d had such a busy day that I stayed up only long enough to have a hot chocolate but it was still an accomplishment for me.

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September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

We got to our cottage at the Doran Bay Resort in Iroquois, Ontario just after 1:00 on Saturday. There were 10 cottages (one for supplies) all in a line with space between them to park a car. Each cottage had a deck, table and chairs and a barbecue. Lawn chairs were scattered around the grass. There were also a pool that was open from 9 until people stopped swimming, a couple of canoes in which we could paddle around the bay, a gazebo with some toys, a couch and chairs and a long table, and lots of open space to run and play on. There was a line of firepits set at a distance from the cottages, which meant the kids didn’t go near them during the day and at night people could have bonfires without disturbing people trying to sleep in the cottages. There wasn’t, unfortunately for us, a climbing structure, swings or a sand box or a beach. We had to re-evaluate our plans a bit for entertaining Reid. It would have been ideal if Reid were nine or ten and willing to make friends with the other kids and play on the grounds or if we’d been part of a group. In fact, Ken assessed it a perfect place for my family to gather. There were 2 cabins of people - grandparents, adult kids and small kids - that seemed to have discovered this for themselves.

We lugged our things in from our car (which I stil lovey) and all lay down for a nap. The cottage was delightfully cool, holding onto the chill of the night before and I was reminded of why I love late August in this part of Ontario: warm days for playing and cool nights for sleeping. While I got groceries, Reid and Ken took turns pitching and hitting with Reid’s new plastic bat and ball. I heard that Reid also rode her bike in the lane behind the cottage. Ken pushed her along the stones and practiced braking. Coincidentally, she was also breaking her dad’s back bit by bit.

We all played outside for a while and then Reid and I went for a swim. Reid brought her Dora the Explorer swim ring along and took it for its first test float in a real pool. She’s had it for more than a year but we’ve never taken it anywhere but Reid’s wading pool. The pool was kind of chilly for me - *only* 78 degrees - but Reid had no such concerns. After our swim, we sunned on plastic chaise lounges, watching Reid wrap herself more or less gracefully in a variety of arrangements. It was entertainment in itself.

Reid and I walked over to look at the river and the bay. We took a canoe for a “ride” - staying safely on the grass and letting the wind blow us along so that we could leave our imaginary paddles on the bottom of the boat. I joked that we should have brought Uncle Roge along to paddle us around, like our last canoe trip. We also went out onto the little dock, that Reid insisted on calling a bridge, and looked into the water. We didn’t see any fish - though the fellow in the next cottage reported having caught a few - and Reid was convinced that the dock, rather than the water, was moving.

Ken barbecued hamburgers for supper on the barbecue that was in front of the deck. It was a smoky affair and the results were lip-smackingly good. Paired with the salads I so carefully shopped for, it was a wonderful meal and we ate at the table on our deck. After supper, we went inside the cottage to get away from the flies and played the Winnie the Pooh Goes Together game that I got at the Dollar Store before we went to Chicago. We’d never played it before but Reid seemed to know the rules. She paired the soap and tub, wind and kite, and so on confidently and then turned them over to find the picture on the back. In theory, the picture on the back confirms the match. In reality, it does that and also provides a clue to what the other item might be. Reid was quite willing to sneak a peek at the back when stumped and eventually as a matter of course. I tried to stamp out this devious behaviour with a few, “Reid, you’re not playing fair” comments but since she was playing alone, no one was about to quit the game to make a point.

The temperature dropped as the evening came - not like those crazy days of 27 degrees at 8:00pm - and it would have been a perfect night for a campfire. The woman who runs the resort offered to set us up with wood for only $4 but we declined. Reid needed to go to bed and I knew I wouldn’t be far behind her in falling asleep. There were even extra-long handled hot dog or marshmallow roasting forks in the supply cabin. Mmmm, yummy, thinking back I wish we’d kept Reid up. Sunday went better for us having put her to bed on time, though, I’m sure.

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September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

When Reid was tiny, I watched Baby Einstein videos while I nursed. Baby Bach and Baby Mozart were the best - I had the impression that they wouldve been even more enjoyable while under the influence of mind-altering drugs. Being a new mother, with the mixed up sleep patterns that entails, is sort of a mind-altered state. The toys spin and slide in a sort of hypnotic manner and the music, played on xylophones and other similar instruments, was familiar and yet unusual, too.

At one point, maybe when she was sick since she was out a lot of her first year of daycare, Ken discovered Pocoyo on Treehouse TV. It’s the story of a boy who is 3, named Pocoyo, and his friends:
* Elly, a pink elephant who plays a big sister role;
* Pato, a fastidious duck who is the best friend;
* Sleepy Bird who can sleep through almost anything or wake up to chirp a complaint at being disturbed before promptly returning to sleep;
* Baby Sleepy Bird, who has as much energy as her/his mama has sleepiness;
* Loula, Pocoyo’s dog, who is just a dog;
* the voice of Stephen Fry as narrator; plus
* a variety of other characters who make occasional appearances.

(Wikipedia has a good entry on Pocoyo and his friends.)

My favourite episode ever involves Pato trying to stay clean while Pocoyo and Elly fingerpaint, eat sandwiches and then make mud pies. The latter lead to scenes feature Pato trying to avoid mud droplets in the same way Nemo avoids the bullets in The Matrix. It’s laugh out loud funny. Ultimately, Pato learns that getting clean is more fun if you get dirty first.

What about you? Which kids’ shows do you enjoy?

Note: Her Bad Mother, over at Mama Said Check This Out, just received some Farzle dvds and is giving them out for posts about What’s on Your Tube.

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September 12, 2007 by Barbara.

Have you ever noticed how kids get slower and chattier when you’re standing in the rain, waiting to take them out of the car - where, incidentally, they are able to stay dry? It happens to us all of the time.

Reid was having a between-season footwear dilemma yesterday. I was all set to send her in sandals when Ken mentioned running shoes. Reid decided she needed shoes and socks and so I ran upstairs to get her socks. The socks went on okay but then the shoes I offered were deemed unsuitable. The second pair were no better. As the little vein on the side of Ken’s head started to pulse - he thinks he is Zen-like as he waits without speaking - I told Reid she’d have to take her socks off and wear her sandals. At which point, she discovered the solution for herself: socks and flip-flops. Ken blurted out a “that won’t work” kind of statement. I explained that she’d done it before, made me cringe but they aren’t my feet. I took her running shoes to the car, just in case.

When Ken and Reid got to daycare, Reid fiddled about putting on her shoes - I’m not sure whether it was sandals or runners she was working on - as Ken stood in the rain. Reid is never quick about getting out of the car but it seems that she is slowest on rainy days. Even on cold and snowy days, it’s not so bad since we can bundle up but we’re not slicker-wearing folk on the way to work. We’re working on Zen-like acceptance of the vagaries of nature.

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