Happiest kid ever

Matt and I took Alyce to her first ever movie theatre movie today. I love going the movies (I know, I know, it's so expensive, but I adore it) and I've been waiting about three and a half years to take Alyce to her first movie. When I saw the preview for the new Winnie-the-Pooh, I knew it was time. We told her last night about our date, hoping to give her enough warning so that watching an enormous screen in a darkened room wouldn't leave her shaking in a corner somewhere, and she woke up this morning, put on her second-best party dress (her best dress was reserved for Declan, who is now four), and was ready to go. She only had to wait seven more hours until showtime!

We had the greatest time. Alyce wanted to know why the chairs were bendy (a fair question), but otherwise parked herself down, no (more) questions asked. She enjoyed popcorn, a few peanut m&ms, and a wonderful movie. Matt and I also enjoyed ourselves so much, laughing more than we imagined we would, both at the movie and at the three year old sitting between us, crunching her popcorn like a big kid. On the drive home, seeming less like a big kid, Alyce cried because she wants to go the movies every day. You and me both.

Watching Winnie-the-Pooh on the big screen today made me feel that good kind of lazy. It was such a treat.

 I broke about sixteen movie theatre laws taking this photo, but it was worth it.

An afternoon party

 

Alyce settled right into the party. At this exact moment she is telling Declan that he is her best friend. 

Then he just needs a moment to take it all in. Evidently, me and Alyce are just all friends, all the time.

She ate about 156 boxes of popcorn.

 And was decorated in rainbows.

What a party. Nice wok, Angie.

Is it me?

Alyce and I were fortunate enough to attend the birthday party of our friend Declan, who is now four.  I love celebrating the birthdays of my friends' kids (and birthdays in general), and there is something so lovely about helping your friends mark another year for their children. Somewhere between the shock that we actually had these children in the first place and the excitement of watching these wee people grow up before our eyes, you'll find me, both beaming and sobbing, at the centre of the party. Declan was an excellent host and didn't even flinch when all the other kids tried to open his presents. Alyce and I hope he enjoys his new books (especially this one, because it cracks me up). I would like to post some photos, of course, but I am experiencing some technical difficulty. Later, then.

(Update: photos here)

Besides sharing the details of how much I adored watching Alyce have rainbows painted on her cheeks, I haven't been able to stop thinking about something since I left the party. Declan's mama is a very good friend of mine, someone I was lucky enough to meet in high school, someone I'm so proud to have on my side. We used to spend all of our money following Sloan, and now we spend all of our money on food and beds for our growing families. It's been years (and I mean years, like fifteen of them), since we lived in the same city, but that hasn't mattered. But when you and your friends no longer occupy the same space, you both make new friends in the new places you find yourself in, and maybe you see where I'm actually going with this: you have this great friend who now has other great friends, and sometimes old friends meeting new friends can be awkward. And by awkward I mean that I found myself trying to break into this new world of hers, but her new world didn't want to let me in.

Maybe I scared the poor, unsuspecting New Friend? Did I come on too strong? Was I creepy when I walked up and introduced myself to New Friend and told her that I felt like I knew her already? Was it shyness that kept her from answering my questions, or engaging me in conversation? All I wanted was to get to know this person a little better, with hopes that my friend and I could expand our shared world again. Maybe we could all get together sometimes, instead of the fragmented visits we have when we're trying to keep in touch with so many different people in our very busy lives.

New Friend didn't seem to like me. She seemed to retreat to that strange phenomenon of moms-in-the-park. Do you know about this? If you put ten different mothers in a park with their children, they will very often never say a word to each other. Instead they'll talk to their children, or maybe, just maybe, about their children, but only for the briefest moments. All of these perfectly fine mothers sitting around a playground, with all of this great conversation to be had, and instead we sit there in silence, as though taking our eyes of our children for one second in order to look a new person in the eye is just too much. Why don't we talk to each other? What is stopping us? Isn't there enough crap out there that new parents have to face? Seriously, I'm going to start singing soon, something about 'shouldn't we all just get along.' You don't want it to get to that.

Like I said, maybe she was just shy. But I'm not that scary. And I bake.

Fast friends

Following in the great tradition of pets and children, Lucy and Shira have become fast friends on account of their shared interests: laps, tiny toys, and cheese. Lucy will put up will all kinds of nonsense from Shira if it means some extra food at the end of the day.

P.S. Shira is happily showing off her new big kid table that she shares with her sister. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how cool this is. It's like she woke up from a nap this week having grown leaps and bounds. That her feet still don't quite reach the floor makes me melt all the more.

Don't tell Alyce

We've had a few adventures these last couple of days while Alyce has been at daycare. It feels a bit like a parent vacation when there is only one of them (and when that one tends to sit quietly eating in her high chair for hours). Matt is back from Poland (more that on that soon) and we are all delighted, elated, and generally goofy with relief. Alyce tells Matt regularly that he is not to go back to Poland (you and me both, sister) and Shira was so excited that she started walking (more on that later, too).

I escaped yesterday, just me and Shira, to spend the day with some amazing friends I only manage to see once or twice a year. The five of us worked together, wearing kilts and serving beer, at an Irish pub in Kingston. We were all attending (or had just finished) university and we worked our asses off. The pub was enormous, filled with students and tourists, and the five of us joined forces quickly. The year or two we worked together made up some of my most favourite memories. And the best part? They're still mine. We've grown up (mostly) and continue to join forces. You know those kinds of friends who've got your back, even when you haven't spoken in a year? They're that good. I don't have any photos to prove it, but I swear we enjoyed the day together with some good food and a wonderful pool.

Seriously, no one mention the pool to Alyce.

Today it was the three of us. Shira and I accompanied Matt to the library at the University of Toronto, had lunch with another good friend, and visited the site of our favourite challah, The Harbord Bakery. Their whole wheat challah is the perfect balance of whole wheat and white flour, and no mater how hard I try I can't seem to duplicate it. We picked up two loaves (and some cookies, you know, for Alyce) and I can't wait to devour them. I consider it research for my next batch of homemade challah.

Anyone have any suggestions about the perfect ratio of whole wheat flour?

P.S. Sorry for blog silence. But regular life has now returned!

Relief

He's finally home with his best girls. Alyce just took him on a tour of his new house and I am going to just lay down for a week. Maybe two.

May you all have the most wonderful of weekends.
Shabbat shalom!

I guess it was bound to happen

Yesterday, I think I broke Alyce's heart, just for a moment. And I died a little inside, just for a moment.

It would be the understatement of the century to say that these past five weeks on my own with the girls have been, at times, really difficult. There have been plenty of wonderful moments, just the three of us, but my lack of sleep and worn-thin patience sometimes make these occasions difficult to appreciate. Lots of things are harder without Matt: bedtimes, running errands, getting out of the house, answering all 120,345 questions, and let's be honest, foot rubs are just not the same when you do it yourself. Oh Matt, when will you return? (In three more sleeps!)

Alyce has changed a lot in five weeks and I think Matt will really notice the differences. Her imagination is more vivid (or maybe she's just bossier in the expressions of said imagination--No, Mama, YOU'RE the big bad wolf coming to my castle and you MAY NOT huff and puff until the crown has been saved from the dragon fairy), she can completely dress herself (though she usually chooses not to), and if you look closely you'll notice the tiniest freckles sprouting on her cheeks, and some green showing up in her eyes. But you'll also notice that a new kind of tantrum erupts when you are unsuccessful in reading her mind (of course she wanted you to stand on her left and not her right), and that she's taken defiance to a whole new level.

Oh, defiance, why do you taunt me so? I don't even know where to begin. I know every how-to book will remind me that three is all about pushing limits and testing boundaries, but it doesn't matter how much I know that to be true. In the moment, in that simplest act of pure evildefiance, I lose my head. I am quite capable of understanding (see how I'm empathizing, parenting books?) how it's sometimes too much for a three year old not to grab that paintbrush and paint the white wall purple. All that drippy, gooey, bright purple paint is too much to resist. I get it, the first time. But when it has been explained to that particular three year old (I'll call her Schmalyce) that she may not use her Nana's paints to decorate all the rooms in the house, and then she goes and does it two more times before the end of the afternoon, I am incapable of understanding. What could possible provoke this kind and usually well-behaved child to such behaviour? And where does that look in her eye come from?* Seriously, can someone tell me? And can someone tell my mum, who is still trying to cover up the purple paint in my bedroom? Thanks.

So today, after so many trying weeks of this new kind of Super-Defiance, I wasn't very kind to Alyce. I should have been more sensitive to this little girl who was missing her Papa. I should not have said to her that Papa would be disappointed in her for continuing to purposefully crumple up her Papa's new print. She found it in a box, began squishing it up in her hands and just wouldn't stop, no matter how many times I told her to stop. She's old enough to understand now that Matt and I do not like certain behaviour, and to know that we expect certain things, but it's not what I told her that I regret, but that I chose to tell her this right when she's missing her Papa so fiercely. The knowledge that I've disappointed someone is one of the hardest things for me to face (like, ahem, when you quit your PhD), and I should have known better than to tell a three year old girl who desperately wants her Papa back home that he's now disappointed in her. And those tears that instantly poured down her little cheeks, and the sobs that came out, screeching Papa doesn't love me now, are totally and completely my fault. I'm such an ass.

I immediately explained that Papa would be disappointed by her behaviour but that he loved her very much, and that we always love her no matter what. I looked into her eyes and told her that she mattered to us more than anything.  I could tell that she believed me, and in five minutes we were smiling and chatting about dragons or magic wands or something equally important, but those few moments were hurtful. I wasn't intending to hurt her feelings, but I wasn't careful with them either. I'll forgive myself eventually because I know deep down that no parent is perfect, but I really wish it hadn't happened. I've been given this gift with Alyce, an opportunity to spend time with a truly magical girl (actually, I've been given two of these little creatures, but the other one, Shira I think her name is, often sits quietly on the sidelines while all of this is going on. But you'll see her in the photos I took today, so you know she's very much here), and I hate when my impatience makes me a jerk. Yup, it was a jerky thing to do.

We went on to have a lovely, regular run-of-the-mill three year old day, filled with more shrieks and tantrums than I'd like, but also filled with giant belly laughs over dinner and a late-afternoon dip in the pool, in spite of my jerkiness. But I think we're both going to bed tonight counting sleeps until Matt comes home.

P.S. Last week we moved into our new place and I've been without reliable internet since Thursday. I guess you can tell that I've been missing you, blog. Seriously, when will I stop typing? And thank you, cable guy, for making my life whole again.

* I know the look comes from her knowing how crazy this drives me--it's a mix of surprise (as in, I can't believe I actually pulled this off) and evil genius. And I also know that if I didn't react, she would no longer do these crazy things. But if you know how not to react, please do let me know.