SPD

Brothers

After 11 months of having a brother, the big brother thing is starting to come (sort of...) naturally to Sebastien. He still refers to himself as a fireman, a workin' man, a referee, a hockey player, a logger, a monster truck (maddening, that one. Mama loathes monster trucks), Sir Topham Hatt more than he refers to himself as a big brother. But he acknowledges that all those people could have a little brother, for sure. Weirdly enough, the thinks the idea of hockey players having a Mama is heeeeelarious. Also maddening.

But. Really. Sweet, no? In fact, if Felix has a bath and goes to bed early, before Sebastien, we could fill a bathtub with the "but I wanted to have a bath with Felix!" tears.

And look, they can play crokinole together. Truck and spoon optional for adult play.

Felix, the world's most independent eater (or non-eater, for the most part) will open his mouth for a spoon occasionally, it seems. Good thing they both like their blueberries frozen.

The Days in Between

Two weeks ago, we dipped into summer for a few days. Or rather, summer stopped by here, and we played outside in t-shirts, and dug freely in the garden-to-be.

And then it dipped to 15 below, and we had remember how to entertain ourselves indoors again, except we had daffodils to cheer us on. (Daffodils from a Cancer Society fundraiser, by the way. Daffodils in Thunder Bay are usually just a dream until late May).

And then, it all melted just enough for someone to get really, really muddy.

But it didn't get warm enough for anyone to go outside without a snowsuit. These are the days when we are so thankful for the washing machine, and radiators that even a snowsuit will dry on in under an hour.

The Growing Season

With apologies to the local juice bar/eatery of the same name.

This little fella is learning and changing in leaps and bounds. He has had a long phase of needing his Mama oh-so-much, pretty much all the time. And then...slowly...maybe Grandmaman is ok for a few minutes, if she stands behind me and I can still my Mama...

He's now pretty okay with Papa putting him to bed, and claps hands with glee when he sees him. Clapping hands is so much fun, sometimes he claps himself to sleep in his bed. It's fun to watch him do it.

He's not the bookworm that his brother is, yet. Sebastien was a lap-snuggling, book-lovin' baby. Felix prefers to pull them all off the shelf and throw them around. Still, if you read it fast enough to keep the page turning action rapid, he tolerates a few. Makes you wonder if there's a point, really.

I also wonder if there's a point (except for personal safety) in putting these pots away three times a day. Little Felix will climb right inside here, and take out every pot, including the cast iron ones. The glass mixing bowls have all moved, ever since Felix pulled FIVE at once off the second shelf. Amazingly, only one broke, or rather, smashed into a bazillion pieces.

All he wants to do is make sound. Give him a spoon to bang on these pots, and he's in heaven. He can play a decent note on the recorder, and he is undeterred by the fact that the drum and drumsticks are on the top shelf of the toy organizer.

So neat. So sweet. Such a menace. Such a darling. As Grandmaman would say, we are so lucky!

Of Letters

That lovely time of day, naptime, has turned into something different, still lovely. We still read him some stories, he still asks for a drink of water or ten (though his room is next to the bathroom, and he knows how to do all this. But I won't argue. I like that he'll hang out in his room). But now, he takes a book to bed, and we leave the blinds mostly open. And usually he just "reads." And sometimes he parties.

And sometimes he falls asleep mid-party, with the book on his face.

And look what he learned in his sleep! Amazing.

(Or maybe, look what a fun game we learned to play with Z for Zamboni.)

A Nice Day for a Walk

One way.

Or another.

(Not a) Hockey Mom

Hockey Mom is not exactly something I have ever aspired to. I'm not even on speaking terms with the concept and all its implicit sweaty, competitive horror.
This of course coming from someone who has until recently had absolutely no exposure to anything hockey related whatsoever, since a brief fling with intramural floor hockey in the 4th Grade, when it was called house leagues, because it was, you know, Grade 4.

And where oh where are the italics in this blog maker thingy?

And then Felix was born, and started actually sleeping a couple of hours at a time, if someone held him that entire time, which Ollie was quite willing to do as there were Stanley Cup playoffs going on, and every now and then, the novelty of not holding a baby would draw me in, and inexplicably, so did a game or two.

And then somebody gave Sebastien those little bob skates for his birthday, and rink down the street was suddenly ready to go, and there was even a little changeroom house there, with a rink attendant there who I swear was called Arthur Funkarelli, but no, that was a band in Nelson, who would spend his entire shift in this tiny 2X6 room with a television and a bag of chips, ahd his wife would come down to bring his supper. I assume he saved the chips for after supper.

And it came to pass (see, I've taken to hockey so much I've become kind of biblical about it) that Ollie and Sebastien would trundle down to the rink two or three nights a week after supper, toting the world's cutest little hockey stick, and a bunch of pucks, the favourites of which all had aquatic mammals on them. And this year we could have played the world's biggest game on the best outdoor rink of all time.

And now even I have a hockey stick, cut to the right size, and Sebastien has proper skates. We even have toy indoor sticks and wouldn't you know it, there is nothing Felix loves more than batting toys around with a hockey stick. Except mostly the big boys make him fetch the puck from under the couch, and hey, he likes that too.

So for now, maybe it's not so bad, this hockey mom thing.

For now.

New Digs

Well, heck no, we didn't move, but a computer has moved to the part of the house we actually live in. So maybe the occasional entry here is warranted to celebrate that.
And in the 5 months since we've last been here, lots of everyday things have happened, and the occasional excitement.
Most recently in the excitement department, we skated waaaaay out on the ice on Lake Superior and watched a bevy (flotilla?) of ice boaters wait for wind.

Of course, the beauty of them waiting for wind meant that they had time to give small people attention, and best of all, a ride!

A beautiful day. All that sun (along with some rain) has since shortened the ski (and skating) season dramatically. Only in Thunder Bay would we complain about having only three months of proper (snowy!) winter. But we did have this, and that's nothing to sneeze at.

And let's not forget the ongoing cuteness, which is fortunately not weather dependent.

Stay tuned...