Today is Lucy’s last day at daycare for the summer.

Our wonderful home provider, Julia, closes down for the summer to spend the school vacation with her three boys (she’s a single mom). So far this has worked for us, with me working from home and getting help from our teenager Shelby and our parents. But we’ve had many conversations the past two years about how much longer we can handle the shut-down.

Certainly next summer — when I plan to be working three days a week — it will not be viable.

But we’re not thinking about that right now. We’re thinking about:

• a) it’s summer!
• b) ohdeargod, it’s summer!
• c) what am I going to do with two kids for nine weeks?
• d) how am I not going to go nutty with two kids?

We’ll be getting various breaks from each other at daycamp, the cottage and help from Shelby again and our parents. But people: There are a ton of loonnnng days ahead. And you can only craft away or hang out in the backyard so much.

So, let’s help each other out. What do you do all summer? Where do you go to play? Splash pad? Park? Trail? Best indoor place on a hot/rainy day? Festivals? Museums?

Leave a comment, and we can build up a fabulous local resource to refer to all summer.

As an added bonus, I’ve got a set of Fisher Price Laugh & Learn Keys to give away to one lucky commenter!

Here are my faves:

• Any and all local fairs (click here for a list of all the fairs in Ontario, including Durham Region)
• Libraries, early year’s centres (full list of Durham’s are on the site here!)
• Brooks Farms (tractor rides!), plus Cooper’s Goat & Veggie Farm, Uxbridge (corn sandbox and…goats!)
• Port Perry’s waterfront — soon to have a splash pad! And they have great restaurants, picnic area and park
• Picnics in the park (there’s something so…summer about doing this)
• Indoor malls on hot days to cool down
• Ditto indoor play centres (see our list here!)
• Kiddie pool in the backyard with friends
• All of Durham’s local festivals and celebrations can be found on the Tourism Durham website, and others — see the local events page

I’m so far behind on recording the little happenings in our life lately. Before they are forgotten forever in the vortex of summer and growing kids, a list (with pics, below):

• Three Dora & Diego window stickers & a beach ball now grace the glass and floor in Lucy’s room, because my girl has gone poop on the potty FOUR TIMES in a row! That’s right, no 3+-year-old poopy diapers in a week. We are so thrilled. And so is Lucy. She keeps asking if we’re calling everyone to tell them — and that “I’m so proud of myself!”
• If you’re wondering what worked, it was a combo of give and take: I bought some dollar store toys, and put them in a bucket in the bathroom so she could see them. When she went poop, so got a prize. If she went poop in her diaper, she had TV taken away for the rest of the day. We only had to take TV away three times before she realized we meant business. — and that television AND a toy was awesome.
• Speaking of poop, poor Alice is battling terrible constipation. A result, I think, of adding a second bottle of formula a day, Cheerios and crackers. She just hollers like the devil when she goes. We are taking out stock in prunes
• Speaking of butts, Alice can sit up on her own now. It’s so adorable when they can do that! A whole new world to learn about from that angle
• Also, her top two teeth are coming in. Anyone else hate teething? Yeesh.
• I have piles and piles of reviews to do and write (vitamins, food, play centres, pacifiers). I think the week I’m at the cottage with the girls will be review week.
• Our gardens look gorgeous right now. Must post pics.
• We saw the Sound of Music on Saturday (must see the movie still, as I don’t quite get what all the fuss is about…), and we were away from the girls from 9:30 a.m. until 6 p.m. During the performance, I had this pain in my arm that traveled from my elbow to shoulder, and was all freaked out telling Eric to watch in case I had a stroke. When we got home and Alice drained my milk-swollen right breast? Pain disappeared. WEIRD. Can one get milk backed up in their appendages?
• The other weekend was our local Duck Derby, and guess who was there? Bram from Sharon, Lois and Bram! Remember Skinnamarink-A-Dinky-Dink? ALL the parents in the audience were swaying and singing, blissful in reliving their childhoods, while our kids were looking around suspiciously. T’was hilarious.
• For Father’s Day, Lucy made personalized keepsake jars for Eric, her Papa and Grandpa. They were a hit, and she loved doing them.
• It’s stinkin’ hot out, and I LOVE IT. Been hanging tons of laundry, with Alice babbling away in her booster seat outside on the deck
• I lost three nose pins this weekend — two down the drain, and one in bed. Grr…
• Lucy and I did swimming lessons together for eight weeks. More on this later.
• Stroller Fit class continues to be great fun, and an even awesomer workout now that instructor Kelly has kicked it up: We walk faster, use benches, tip toe up hills. No weight loss, but this weekend I fit into pants I haven’t been able to in years!

And pics:

Seeing as you’re already here voting for your favourite siblings photo, care to say hello and enter a little contest?

Selfishly, it’s mostly for my benefit.

There are a ton of new visitors to the site, and even more who I know read but never comment (I am guilty of this on many of the sites I read, too). And then there are you friendly regulars (Doodle’s Mom, Jen O, Cathy, Sarah, Christy, 1001 petals, Nicole, Laura, my Dad…).

So I ask — pretty please — if you will leave a comment and say hi on Delurking Weekend. And — just for fun — what are your plans for the weekend?

One lucky person will receive a free haircut from Melonhead Children’s Hair Care in Whitby. And if we reach my goal of 100 comments, everyone will receive a special coupon from Once Upon a Child in Ajax.

UPDATE SUNDAY: Know what’s…odd? On Friday alone, there were 500 unique visitors — 700 total — yet there were only 45 comments by the end of the day. Isn’t that weird? I’m not complaining or trying to call people out at all. I’m just so curious why that is…

Thanks to everyone for saying hello so far! We’re a busy bunch, aren’t we?

UPDATE JUNE 23: Wow, we almost did it! Thanks everyone. It was so neat to hear from all of you.

The winner of the Melonhead gift certificate is Gemma! Now maybe her kiddies can get a real haircut. And I’m still going to email all of you the Once Upon a Child coupon, just because you’re awesome. Stay tuned to your email.

Archie Comics began decades before my sister’s books scattered across our house got me hooked around 23 years ago. Like Golden Girls, they are comfort food in written form. There is something so predictable and wholesome and safe about Archie and his band of friends from the fictitious Riverdale.

And the world’s most famous love triangle — between Archie, Betty and Veronica — has defined almost every issue.

Now the word is Archie is getting married. To the girl no one wants him to.

Yes, the snooty, cold, no-common-sense bitch Veronica is said to be the recipient of Archie’s eternal love. He proposes with Betty in the room wiping a tear off her cheek.

Really. Really.

If this is actually the case, you can bet a legion of fans are going to revolt. As blinded as Archie is by Veronica’s hotness, I just can’t believe he’d pick her over uber cute, sweet, earthy Betty.

I haven’t actively bought a new Archie book in years — aside from Eric stuffing my stocking with them, my sister giving them as gifts (then reading them herself, of course!) or buying used ones at garage sales — but I now have Sept. 8 circled on my calendar to see where this goes…

I’m proud to say Lucy is an Archie fan, too. She finds the books in the bathroom and my nightstand and office, and loves to sit down and make up stories about the pictures. Alice? Well, if chewing equates love, then she is head over heels.

(That is my collection, numbering in the hundreds. The colour arranging — which needs updating — was inspired by this.)

Thanks to my sister, Michele, and reader Kelly for having this in my inbox this morning

Our bed is up against a window, and the soothing patter of rain woke me at 4:22 a.m. Within minutes, Alice was awake. Hungry, chilly, a squirming worm in Eric’s arms, anxious to burrow against my belly and nuzzle into my breast.

This happens often. Some unseen force nudges me out of open-mouthed slumber; a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I’m awake, listening, before there is a need to. It’s happened with both my girls, at all ages.

For a few seconds each time I open my eyes, when the mind is a blank canvas before life is instantly painted on, I forget. I feel like…me. Just Carly. My body, my interests, my own thoughts, with no one else to consider.

And then I blink, and this life seeps into my skin.

_____

Do you ever look around at the world you have created for yourself and wonder how it happened?

There are days when I feel like I’m out of my own body. Pregnancy, so visceral and consuming when you are living it, seems like eons ago — if it happened at all — yet here before my eyes are two beautiful and healthy little girls. That I helped create. That came out of me.

_____

“I just LOVE Mumma!”

Lucy, my sensitive, emotional soul, says this out of the blue frequently. My heart tightens, elongates, lodges in my throat each and every time. I can’t cry because it upsets her.

“Oh, Baby Goose. I love you, too.”

“Mumma, I’m not a baby.”

“I know you’re not, Lucy. But that is my name for you.”

“You tell me to, ‘Stop growin’, Lucy!’”

“I do. Stop it. Right now!”

“Mumma, I will go to school soon.”

“I know, Honey. Not for another whole year, but very soon.”

“I won’t need you when I go to school.”

I pause, wondering how to handle this — inane toddler conversations can spin wildly toward the significant in an instant.  Lucy is suddenly very interested in her school, which is down the street. We have explained that school is only for girls and boys to go to, and not Mummies and Daddies.

“Well, you might not need me when you’re at school, but I think I should still stick around.”

She throws her arms around my neck, and gives me a “seximo” kiss (rubbing noses together).

“Mumma,” she whispers into my ear. “I will always need you.”

_____

I don’t think you can regret your children.

Sure, you can yearn for the time before they catapulted into your life, changing every aspect of it forever. I wish, daily, for more hours in the day. I want to reach back into time and shake the old me who had endless stretches of emptiness in her lap. I want to sleep more, hating 6:15 a.m. when Lucy and Alice are simultaneously whining from their rooms and Eric and I poke each other under the warm sheets to try and force the other out.

But would I ever not have them, in order to secure these things? Never. Would I change anything about how they came to be? Never.

_____

In those late afternoon/early evening hours, when the TV is blaring, Spencer is barking at the wind, and Lucy is clinging to my knees, Alice is on my hip, and I’m stirring a pot with flushed cheeks, time stands still. So often I clock watch, counting the minutes until Eric comes home and I can disentangle myself.

But others, I close my eyes and inhale. I try to burn the chaos to memory. I want to remember it all, this feeling of being needed every single moment.

Soon enough, like the past life I occasionally miss, this time will be over.

My Alice,

This month marks the one where everything seems settled. I can’t say predictable, because life with a baby (& toddler) surely is not, but there is finally a general ebb and flow to our days that comforts everyone.

(This is a polite way of saying you cry less, sleep more, smile with abandon and interact with glee. Goodbye newborn days!)

Read the rest of this entry »

I got home this afternoon, after a long morning of running errands with the girls, to discover my nipples were pointing in different directions. Not just tucked into my bra in a “Haha, wouldn’t that be embarrassing if someone saw!” way, but looking like a cross-eyed, drunk sailor through my shirt.

(Breastfeeding women will know exactly how this happens: You feed on one side, tuck the deflated boob back in with nipple probably pointing to the sky, while the other, fuller breast remains looking straight ahead. Or in my case today, lazily wandering to the right.)

Ladies, please. Shouldn’t we make a pact or sign a contract that if you see an obviously oblivious woman (especially a mom with two young children you know barely made it out the door with clothes on) with lopsided nippes you discreetly tell them?

Lucy and Alice, looking especially cute today with barettes and tutus and big smiles, chatted to a ton of people as we were out and about. But now I wonder if those strangers’ grins were for my girls, or for My Girls.

___

(Dear Dad: I know, I know. First the cabbage leaves in the bra (with a photo, no less), and now this. I’m sorry. Unfortunately I still have a post to do about a pink nursing bra that a local business gave me to try. I promise, no pics…)

One Monday a month, Eric and all the other geeks builders in the local International Plastic Modellers Society get together for a night of debauchery.

(You had to read that line twice, didn’t you? Once to re-read IPMS, and a second to snort at debauchery, right?)

Actually, they do just what you think they do: Pack up the planes/tanks/dudes etc. they’re working on, meet in a community centre, trade tips, gossip and mingle. There is much manly hand shaking involved.

Read the rest of this entry »

Lucy is in her bed, playing with a Groovy Girl I bought for a great price at Once Upon a Child Santa brought her for Christmas.

“Mumma, this girl is dirty. We need to give her a bath.”

“Uh, Honey, she’s not dirty. That’s the colour of her skin. She has dark brown skin.”

“But why, Mum-Mum?”

“Well, not everyone has the same colour skin as us.”

“But why?”

“Because they don’t. It depends on where you live, where you came from, who your Mummy & Daddy are, and more.”

“But why?”

“Look! A Blue Jay outside!”

We don’t have much diversity up here in the Boonies. Different skin colours are unfortunately only represented in rather stereotypical ways: Nannies, convenience and ethnic restaurant store owners (I use plural, but we sadly only have one not-so-good Chinese food place), a cab driver. Lucy will of course be raised to embrace every type of person through acceptance, empathy and kindness, but it’s hard at her age when all she sees is a sea of white people.

We’re covering the non-traditional family file with some great books (and real life), but have yet to really tackle the diversity issue. And I’m not really sure if it has to be A Thing To Tackle, anyways, does it?

Thoughts?

This morning, after Lucy skipped off to daycare with Eric and Alice was sleeping, I watched the last two episodes of Golden Girls over a plate of whole grain waffles and blueberries.

I thought it was a fitting tribute to Bea Arthur, who died Saturday of cancer, at 86. Bea is the second of my beloved Golden Girls to pass away: Estelle Getty — who played Dorothy’s mother Sophia — died last summer (post here).

The final episode, during which Dorothy gets married to Blanche’s Uncle Lucas (played by Canadian funnyman Leslie Nielsen), always makes my chest fill with emotion: Sadness for the end, happiness that Dorothy finally finds fulfillment, irony that it’s Dorothy that gets hitched, gratitude and pain and sorrow. Today I realized just how appropriate the last scene is for Bea’s passing.

Indulge me. The girls are in the famous living room — filled with light green and pink fabric and rattan furniture a la Miami 80s — and Dorothy is leaving with Lucas (waiting in the car).

Rose: What can you say about seven years of fights and laughter, secrets…cheesecake?

Dorothy: It’s been very…it’s been an experience that I’ll always keep close to my heart. These are memories I’ll wrap myself in when the world gets cold and I forget that there are people who are wam and loving.

*all hugging*

Blanche: You’ll always be a part of us.

Dorothy: Your friendship was something I never expected at this point in my life. And I could never have asked for a better surprise.

Blanche: That’s how we feel, too.

Dorothy: I have to go.

Rose: Dorothy? Is this goodbye?

Dorothy: *nods* I love you. Always.

*leaves, but comes back in running and crying hug again*

Dorothy: You’re angels. All of you.

And now you, Bea Arthur. Thank you for gracing me with so much happiness and comfort.

I can now add “transcribed last minutes of Golden Girls” into the list of most time-wasting and ridiculous things I’ve ever done…