This is Christian when he was a toddler. This is why John should never be mistaken for her Dad. This is why I occasionally think people are just being nice when they say that Marie-Hélène looks like me.
Swimmer
July 12, 2010 – 7:00 am
Because we’re travelling this summer, to a place with a pool, we registered Marie-Hélène for swimming lessons so that she gets comfortable with water. For two weeks, Marie-Hélène jumps in the pool with four other toddlers while the teacher encourages them to blow bubbles and kick their legs.
During her night time bath, Christian declares from the bathroom, “It’s working!”
From the kitchen, I answer, “What’s working?”
“Her swimming lessons! I can pour water on her head, and she doesn’t care!”
Last Friday, I invited John to come and watch. I might mention here that John is a certified lifeguard, and that I am afraid of water. (I wouldn’t call it water-phobia, but I am nonetheless surprised at not finding a term that describes suffocation by water in this crazy-long list.) I can’t stand it when the main character in a movie is trapped in some chamber or other, as water slowly rises. I start breathing heavily, right there in the theater, while Christian holds my hand.
But back to last Friday, when John came with me, he brought the camera. He recognized the teacher, but unless he gets around to clarifying things with her, a set-up would be unlikely… As she set Marie-Hélène on the slide, with me at the bottom to catch my little shrimp, I think I heard her say, “Wave to your daddy!”
Swimming
July 8, 2010 – 9:38 am
Marie-Hélène is so tiny, everyone says. It’s true. This week we’ve started swimming classes, and Marie-Hélène like every other kid who is not a child of the Michelin Man family, ends up shivering. And when she’s not holding on to me with a crab-like pinch, she’s holding the noodle right to her chest. “Put them on their tummies, if you can!” the teacher says, and Marie-Hélène’s little bum floats up like a buoy, her legs tightly folded under her like a frog. “She’s so small!” the teacher says. And Marie-Hélène, when I hand her to the teacher, to slide down the little slide, stays compact like a ball… You’re not helping dispel those comments there, sweet pea! But we find you to be the cutest little swimmer yet!
Gardening
July 7, 2010 – 7:00 am
One of my main occupations when I was young, up until I left home, was yardwork. I weeded flower beds, tilled the soil under cedar trees and picked out debris from long rock beds. I also weeded the lawn, one row at a time, and by the time I would be done the front yard, there was the backyard. With enough procrastination, the project would only last a summer, until the next year, and another crop of weeds. Despite disliking that aspect of yardwork, I do credit it for providing me with patience and a particular satisfaction that comes from plucking weeds out by the roots. It is also why I love planting flowers and spending time whispering sweet nothings into their little petal ears.
Then, of course, there is the satisfaction of having plants that aren’t just pretty… They smell good and make everything taste better.
The garden is Christian’s area. He decides where things are planted, when things are ready to eat, and then I eat it. With him of course. Left to right, there are tomatoes, then, lettuce, carrots and cucumbers, onions and beans. On the side of the garage, we planted lots of potatoes. They’re not all that photogenic…
The thing about plants is that they are very forgiving, most of the time. I love being able to re-arrange things at will, and Christian is wonderfully obliging. After our winters have killed the countless clematis we’ve planted along our deck, we needed something to add height in the corner of our flowerbed along the house.
We made the bed larger, or rather, I laid down a rope and Christian did all the sweaty stuff. ‘Cause, he’s DA MAN!
And look! Isn’t it so much better? I let 20 mosquitoes in the house just going out to admire our new corner. And it is going to grow! And not just because I put my nose in its neck to smell its handsome pine-like smell, but because the tag said so… 10 to 20 feet, which, when we tell people about it, remark the discrepancy. I think it’s only 10 feet if you don’t tickle it from time to time…
21
July 6, 2010 – 7:00 am
Today, one of the guys in this picture is turning 21… He may be the tallest one, in case you need a hint. Do you know what their lookin’ at?
I’ll give you a clue…
Yup! We walked down the street from the Palud condo, in weather so hot, you suntanned in the shade, to see the Queen come by.
We don’t blame her for staying in the air-conditioned car. That was the excitement this weekend. That, and chocolate covered cookies.
Forget the cupcakes
July 5, 2010 – 7:00 am
Cathy, number one commenter on this blog, and longtime family friend, hosted a party the Sunday before Marie-Hélène turned one. For the party, I brought cupcakes. I had in mind to bring chocolate cupcakes filled with cream, but the night before, realised that I didn’t have the necessary muffin-tin for extra deep muffins. In the end, the ingredients on hand only allowed for chocolate-chip muffins, which turned out alright. Not fantastic. Just alright. In honor of her birthday, Cathy gave Marie-Hélène the biggest cupcake, and after we blew out the one candle, she filmed Marie-Hélène’s proceeding mess, on her phone. You can see that here.
It wasn’t until this past Saturday that we saw our mistake… Marie-Hélène is alright with cupcakes… but when it comes to chocolate covered cookies… Well…!
Dear Grandpapa who brought home Arnott’s Chocolate Biscuits and handed her one, just to see what she’d do… What have you unleashed? A chocolate eating monster who would have devoured as many cookies as she could until she got sick, is what. A girl who can pinpoint the exact day her lifelong love of fine chocolate started… Just look at those guilty chocolate-monster eyes!
Oh Canada!
July 1, 2010 – 7:00 am
Not far from our home, the tenants of this building all hung flags from their balconies. Next year, if they do so again, Marie-Hélène and I will go count them… Do 2-year-olds count? Past 10?
Today, we’ll be hanging around here… having Grandmaman and Grandpapa over for supper and cake.
Have a lovely day!
1 year
June 30, 2010 – 9:53 pm
Dear Marie-Hélène,
As I write this, I am listening to Enya, which in your uncle’s and aunt’s book, is totally not cool. Nonetheless, it was the soundtrack to your birth, upon the nurses’s suggestion at our prenatal class. It has been a year since I listened to her music, and as it is with music, I can’t help feel a little moved. Enya became the calm prelude to a textbook delivery that sent tremors into our life, the aftershocks which we felt for a full six weeks, until, finally, things gradually settled into their newer, better form.
The other night as we lay in bed, your Papa and I were talking about something cute you had done that day. As your Papa is wont to do, he’ll remind me: “a year ago today, you were having your contractions at the hospital…” I’ve come to realize that I’m very grateful for having been able to give birth. And I mean it in the most sincere way… There was a moment, when you were coming through, that Christian offered to take my hand and have me touch your emerging head. That had been something else the nurse from the prenatal class had suggested, as we suppressed almost verbal “ewww”s. Strangely enough, the magic she talked about was true. When I was pregnant with you, you were an extension of my body, even if you were already you… with pretty hands and noticeable hair. When the cord was cut, I saw you as separate. But when I touched your head between my legs, it was the first time that I could feel you as a thing that was not my body. I’m pretty sure I cried at that moment.
Ma belle, you have brought so many happy moments to your Papa and I… Happy First Birthday!
1 year from Jacinta Palud on Vimeo.
Letter to Grandmaman and Grandpapa
June 29, 2010 – 7:00 am
Last Friday, the grade four class at Taché School threw a little party for Marie-Hélène. Since September, we’d been paying monthly visits to a group of about 20 students as part of a national program called Roots of Empathy. From the first visit, when Marie-Hélène was just a little lump, lying on a big green blanket with 24 pairs of eyes watching her suck on her soother, until her last visit, where she was a small but determined character on two feet, 20 some students saw her grow. The class and teachers enjoyed every visit. I got to show her off. But there is always a story behind-the-scene.
The class visits necessarily throw her routine off. We have it pretty down pat: Marie-Hélène wakes up at 7:00 in the morning, drinks her bottle, plays, eats a breakfast of fruit and cereal, and then goes to bed for her first nap at 9:00, during which I read and drink a cup of tea. She’ll sleep between an hour to two hours. Feed at 11, lunch, play and a little more play, and then, its a second nap at 1:00. By 3:00 Marie-Hélène is usually awake and in a good mood, and after a bottle, we go for a bike ride until Papa comes home.
Since The Baby Whisperer puts so much emphasis on routine, and since it suits us quite well, we don’t consider ourselves all that particular. If I told you that we plan our week’s supper menu in advance, you might be of the contrary opinion. But whew! I didn’t say that out loud… I think.
So back to last Friday… Leaving in the morning, I categorize the mental list of things to bring by activity: eat, sleep, play. Her visit to the class is just before 10. Marie-Hélène now rarely falls asleep in the car, so visits to the school usually mean that I spend the day in that neighborhood, plopping down diaper bags, toys and a playpen at the Palud condo and making a mess in the kitchen. If you knew how neat and tidy my mother-in-law is… She’s 72 and she’ll still get on her hands and knees to wash the floor despite osteo-arthritis. It makes me crings a little everytime I visit. She embodies the characters whose homes were described as having “floors you could eat off of” in books by Lucy Maud Montgomery. And last week, the Palud seniors were away, in Edmonton, for a wedding. Their absence only made their condo seem cleaner… like a museum set that should have been cordoned off to intruders like me.
By the time I fed Marie-Hélène lunch, it was far past noon. The trip I had made to their floor, Marie-Hélène on one arm, the diaper bad, my purse and a 500 pound playpen on the other, had been enough exercise for the week; Michelle Obama arms be darned. Once I had mixed the blueberry-apple compote with an equal amount of rice cereal, and warmed it to the exact degree Marie-Hélène likes, I realised I’d forgot the chair we usually use to keep her somewhat contained while we feed her, in the absence of her usual high chair. Sigh of sighs, it was in the car, umpteen floors down, one cold bowl of cereal later and scattered Cheerios to boot. Forget it, I thought. I’ll feed her on the balcony. If we dirty the floor… it won’t be too bad.
And it wasn’t. There was no spilled milk, no broken glass… Just a little girl who wouldn’t sit still between spoonfulls of blueberry goo. But… (And this is where I insert a note from Marie-Hélène… translated especially for you…)
Dearest of dear Grandmaman and Grandpapa…
I think my Mama might have lost her mind a little on Friday, when she let me eat lunch on your balcony. Nonetheless, I loved the view. Views are such nice things when they can be seen through such nice glass, from such perfect heights. I loved the view so much, I might have kissed that glass, with big blueberry-cereal lips… maybe even twice… And my Mama might even have forgot to clean those kisses off, just as she forgot to roll up the window in the car that she locked. (But don’t tell Papa… it’s a secret.) I miss you lots, especially your glasses!
Love and kisses,
Marie-Hélène
So you see? Messing with the routine is worse for me, than it is for Marie-Hélène.
Monday
June 28, 2010 – 10:34 am
Marie-Hélène is taking her morning nap. The dryer rolls in wrinkle-shield mode, as John has forgotten to take out his clothes before leaving for work. I have lots of pictures to share… Marie-Hélène and a cat! Marie-Hélène and a cupcake! Our garden! Coming soon, I promise!
For now… here’s to a new week, a morning with sun after a day of rain…
