Move over and give her the floor: Coco's turning 4!

My sweet little girl
Isn't so little any more
My sweetie with the hair that curls
Is already turning 4!

She has come a long way in the last year:
Getting taller, saying more
Shedding less and less tears
And throwing a little less food on the floor.

She's the big kid at pre-school
And thinks Duran Duran is cool.
Mama's so proud
When she sings "Her Name is Rio.." aloud.

She loves to entertain
And cracks her brother up.
She's not scared of a little rain
And she's outgrown her sippy cup.

Flowers, rocks, and crystals
Are still high on the Fav's list.
Now throw in a few ponies and some glitter
And you've got the recipe for Chloe bliss.

She's a master of accents:
Whether valley girl or Southern Belle
Her incredible spidey sense?
You guessed it - also from Michele.

She's such a sweety pie
That sometimes, I can barely stand it.
Oh oh, I think I'm about to cry...
Even though I promised myself that I wouldn't do it.

My sweet little girl
Isn't so little any more
My sweetie with the hair that curls
Is already turning 4!

Nice guys finish first

A few weeks ago, my best and most enjoyable soccer season in years came to an end. It was so special that I just had to dust off the old finger pads and inject some life into my neglected blog.

I feel that I owe this to the man that really made it all happen, Georgios (no, not the model, the other Georgios). Of course, football is a team game, but it was George’s inspiration, motivation and tactical brains that led to our stellar year.

Let’s start with a few team accomplishments:

- 15 wins, 2 ties and 1 loss in the league

- Promotion into Division 1

- An unbeaten streak that lasted from September to February

Last year, we had a decent start, but then petered out. So what made this year so different? So much better? It’s not what made it better, it’s who.

The new gaffer

Last summer, a somewhat shocking email from Hugh landed in our inboxes:

George will take over as Manager.  He has a ton of good ideas surrounding team culture/unity and is enthusiastic to take this on.  So we’re lucky.  Everybody welcome George and he’ll now be emailing even more.

It wasn’t surprising in the sense of, “Oh no!”, but more like, “Huh, change? With the Burnaby Wolves?” I’ve been around the team five years now and I tell ya, things have changed about as much as my wardrobe (If you know me well enough, then you've seen all my clothes).

Ok, back to George. He’s a newcomer who joined the team as a goalie last year and made an immediate positive impact. His friendly, engaging personality made him easy to talk during post-game sessions and he did not try to hide his passion for the game and the team.

Hugh’s comment about “emailing even more now” was spot on. He’d been sending comments and links to footy videos, but when he took over as manager, we began receiving a flood of communications. His pre-game emails were well thought out and inspiring and full of grammar errors (sorry, it’s in my blood to notice!). Sometimes a pre-pre-game email game a day earlier because he just couldn’t resist. His enthusiasm was infectious and it never wavered for a minute all year. His post-game recaps were always insightful and injected with humour.

He’s smart, too. He recruited new players but made sure that the long-time players knew they still had a place on the team if they wanted it. He's stated from the start that his priority is to keep the chemistry that makes this team so special. All anyone had to do to be a part of the team was show up consistently. We ended up with a deep squad, with more subs than any other team. And with no subbing restrictions for us old farts, George made sure to use our advantage in numbers, and it worked. We subbed frequently and had the freshest legs in the second half in pretty much every game we played. And we were less sore the day after a game!

What about me?

Last summer, I made a pact with myself that I would only continue playing unless I was really enjoying myself. If I was going to feel so sore and old after playing, it had to be worth it. Part of doing it for the love also meant that I had to stop being so hard on myself whenever I made mistakes during a game.

And I succeeded. The transformation of my attitude of putting too much pressure on myself to just being grateful to be out there playing decent soccer with a good bunch of guys began last summer. After all, the quality grass* that we play on during the summer is so nice that millions of players around the globe would give an arm to play on it (unless they were a goalie). The good vibes became ingrained in me over in the summer and carried over into the winter league. I ended up playing some of my best soccer, even scoring a few goals. I also made plenty of mistakes, too, but I didn’t harp on them like I used to. I joked around on the field and was really just happy to be out there playing - even in the cold and rain. That’s true love, right there.

One paragraph about the Wolves

We play in the “Masters” division (a polite way of saying “old farts”) of the VMSL. Many of the guys have been playing together for years, and years, and a few more years beyond those ones. What’s more, they’ve been playing the same two nights - Tuesday & Thursday - at the same spots, depending on the season, for just as long. Sure, a ton of players and characters have come and gone over the years, but a core group has remained unchanged and old faces are welcomed back every now and again. The camaraderie created on the pitch and afterwards during the post-game beer+ is what makes the B-Wolves so special. This winter, I happily spent hours outdoors, in winter, just hanging out and chatting after a good run.I'm lucky.

Though last week’s loss in the Cup to end the season was disappointing (In George’s words: “With a ref eager to see his long time friends to win the game.. couple terrible calls on the first half in a combination of the very good opponent and game went south. With 10 players for half of the game, Wolves played their best minutes when they were shorthanded”), we should be proud of what we accomplished this year!

It’s been a hell of a ride and I would like to thank George and all of the guys for not only great footy, but quality companionship, too. I’m grateful to be a member of the Burnaby Wolves pack - arooooooooooooo!

This blog is dedicated to Hans - the nicest Wolf of them all.

+ Special shout out to Jeff for never failing to bing a cooler full of cold beer for us week in, week out, all year-round.

* Special shout out to Brian for being there early every Tuesday & Thursday to ensure we've got our "usual" spot.

Big Kael, King of the Rails!

Big Kael
King of the Rails
Turns five today
So everyone shout "Hooray"!

Can't believe he's already five
That sho ain't no jive
He just keeps growin & growin'
When will he stop? Nobody's knowin'

He made the jump to school
Without looking back
C'est en français (he thinks its cool)
And loves to sport his Cars backpack

And just when we thought that trains were out
They returned even stronger
Now Lightning McQueen & co can be seen to be pout
While Thomas & friends will stick around a little longer

He builds a new track or two every day
With tunnels, twists, turns, and hills
So intricate they blow me away
Who knows, maybe he's developing skills to pay the bills!

He's still got his mad observations powers
And never misses a beat.
Over most kids his age he towers
Yet he's the sweetest you'll ever meet.

Kael loves to laugh & play
And brings joy to all those around him.
At gymnastics he loves to swing and fly away
And pull other crazy moves on a whim.

His memory is quite unbelievable
That he knows stories front to back.
He can even be quite reasonable
When Chloe is on the attack.

Yup, he's a great big brother
That's always up for a hug.
A KC embrace makes me shudder
With warm fuzzy feelings - I feel like a big lug.

Big Kael
King of the Rails
Turns five today
So everyone shout "Hooray"!

Coco's 3? How can that be!

Oh me-oh-my, how can it be?
Our little Chloe is turning 3
Growing up as fast as can be
She's a gem of a girl, as I'll demonstrate to thee.

She's as quick as whip
And sharp as a tack.
Always ready with a quip
Or (look out!) prepping her next sneak attack.

She's still our "lil' Pig Pen"
But at least now the plate stays on the table.
In terms of mess making, I give her a 10,
Though when it's time to clean, she pretends she's not able.

Coco's a little charmer
Making friends wherever she goes.
Except for bees (she thinks they'll harm her)
And other flying things, which are her biggest foes.

She's not a fan of boats that rock,
But she likes to rock the boat.
She definitely thinks outside the flock
And loves to press the "Upside Down" button on her remote.

Chloe likes to dance, sing, and giggle,
Somersault, spin, and wiggle.
When she's happy, she squeals with delight
But when angry, you're in for a fight.

She eats fruit likes its about to disappear
And already has a passion for shoes.
She loves to play in water that's clear
Ask her about her favourite colour and it's purple she'll choose.

She's hanging on to blankie
And all her little friends.
It's no secret what to do when she's cranky:
Get blankie into her little hands!







Hanging out with Chloe is pure joy
- She's truly a one-of-a-kind gal.
She's more fun than any toy
And will forever be one of my best my pals.

Oh me-oh-my, how can it be?
Our little Chloe is turning 3
Growing up as fast as can be
She's a gem of a girl, as I've demonstrated to thee.

Kman turns 4!

All hail Kael
Who is turning 4
All hail Kael
For giving it his all - and then giving more!

He's got a heart of gold
And loves knock-knock jokes
This kid is from a different mold
whose motto is 'go for broke'

He's still as mad as ever about trains
I guess it wasn't a passing fad.
"Slippin' Into Darkness" is the favourite refrain
Of this vibrant young lad.


He could be the next dj superstar
Or maybe a local footy legend
No matter - to me he's a star
That shines bright and never descends.






Every morning, he emerges from bed
Blue blankie & stuffed animals in tow.
His favourite colour is red
And he thinks everyone else is slow.

Always looking out for others,
Kael's the sweetest boy in town.
Coco's lucky to have such a good big brother
(except when he knocks you down)

He epitomizes exuberance with a capital E
What the French call 'joie de vivre'.
Looking for the door to enthusiasm?
Find the Kman cuz he's got the key!

Coco turns 2!!!


Coco turns 2!
"No way, Jose"
Chloe, you're already 2? - "Yes daddy, okaaaay?"
I know Coco, but it's hard to believe it's true.

The beautiful girl with the eyelashes long
and the machine gun of a giggle.
Who sings all kinds of songs
- especially the ones by the Wiggles.





She loves to get filthy when she plays
Hence the nickname "pig pen"
That part of her hasn't changed since her baby days;
Will it still be the same when she's ten?


Chloe can be very mischievous
Or as sweet as a chocolate chunk cookie
One minute she'll send flying her dishes
And the next be cuddling with blankie.




She can build a "tower of power"
In 2 minutes flat.
She loves to smell the flowers
And learn about animals with the Cat in the Hat.

She's a real superstar
Who talks and already knows her ABCs
She sings along to Twinkle Little Star
And counts to dix with ease.

That which she's not a fan:
Wasps, blankie "taking a bath" and spicy things.
I wonder what the third year will bring
For the girl with hair the colour of sand.




Happy Birthday my sweet Coco
May this year be another great one.
Mommy, Daddy, Kael and Flea love you GROS GROS
Kiddo, just keep having fun!

A little suffering is good for you

"Guys, relax. Be patient." - The Ref

Last Friday night, we played our final game of the winter season on a shitty turf field in North Van. The field was surrounded by forest, and the sounds of the river could be heard while staring at the Coastal Mountains from the halfway line. A timid, sideways drizzle showered down harmlessly.

Hardly the tense setting for the drama that was about to unfold.

We have to win
Sitting in first place, we need a win against TAK to likely secure a promotion to Division 2 next year. TAK are bottom of the heap in the other division, so we're pretty confident that it should be a cakewalk.

But things don't start off well. The turf field is too big and waaaay too bouncy. Controlling the ball is difficult and the ball never stays on the ground long enough to string a few passes together. These conditions almost inevitably result in a poor game lacking in flow. Tonight is no exception.

But these guys are last place!
With the season on the line, things get tenser and tenser as the game progresses. The other team is less skilled than us, but they're clearly more comfortable on their home field. They also prove to be expert time wasters, subbing at every stop in play and taking their sweet time whenever possible. Frustration mounts.

It doesn't help that the referee, who knows our team well, doesn't seem concerned about their obvious ploys to waste time. He keeps telling us to relax and be patient while chatting and joking around with the opposition. More and more, it feel like one of those nights when things are destined to go wrong.

Confirmation comes just before the half when a shot right at our normally reliable goalkeeper slips through his hands and bulges into the net. It cancels out our first goal and we walk off the field at halftime tied 1-1.

We try to stay positive, but clearly things are not going well. If we lose, we can kiss any chance of promotion goodbye.

From bad to worse
Sure enough, disaster strikes at the onset of the second half. A questionable foul is called at the edge of our area. As soon as their player strikes the ball, Hugh, who is standing beside me in the wall, mutters, "Oh no". We both knew it was in from the moment he hit it. Our backs are now against the wall as we need two goals at the very least.

Though panic starts to set in, to our credit, we don't lose heart and keep pressing. We're almost rewarded for our efforts when Hugh hits the left post, and then just moments later, a second shot is deflected onto the right post. Later, I have a great chance myself, hitting the ball sweetly. It's aimed right for the bottom corner of the net and looks to be a goal, but their octogenarian keeper somehow manages to get his fingertips on the ball and deflects it just wide.

Ok, it's really starting to feel like one of those nights.

Finally a bit of luck
At last, the tide finally turns our way. First, we're awarded a penalty shot, which we score, and then a foul around the edge of their box gives us another dangerous chance. Under pressure, Donny steps up and delivers the perfect shot right off the post and in to give us the lead with about 10 minutes to go. We celebrate wildly, and then get ready to defend for our lives.

Not so fast
But how quickly one can go from hero to zero. When a throw in lands inside our box, Donny, trying to intercept the ball, misreads the bounces and it goes right off his arm for a blatant hand ball. The ref has no choice but to point to the penalty spot. They score. With just a precious few minutes left in the game and the game tied at three, our dreams of playing up a division are evaporating quickly.

During the final few moments, we push with urgency, but without results. There are just a few seconds left and it's looking grim until an innocuous looking tackle with their player near our own 18 yard line results in the miracle: The ball ricochets off a leg and spins perfectly between their two center backs and right into Hugh's path for a breakaway. I couldn't have passed a better through ball with all the time in the world. Their goalie comes out to challenge but Hugh gets there first and makes no mistake slotting home. Our season is saved! We go bananas!

And... breathe
The ref blows the final whistle moments later and we collectively breathe a sigh of relief. We did it. Barely.

Hey guys, I have a confession to make
After the game, the ref comes over to talk to us. "I didn't want to tell you guys until after the game, but they had at least three illegal players.", he says chuckling to himself. What!? You mean, we would have won the game regardless of the result? "Oh come on guys, a little suffering is good for you", he adds.

Of course there was lots of talk about the ref's morals during the post-game beer. "How could he not tell us? No wonder he kept telling us to relax".

In the end, I think he was right not to tell us. If we had known beforehand, we surely would have taken it easy and the game would have been awful. Plus, we wouldn't have experienced all of the drama, or suffering, as the ref called it. Though I wouldn't characterize it as enjoyable, it was far from dull! Why not add a little excitement to your life whenever you can?

It was an odd end to a great season for the Burnaby Wolves. Arooooooooooooo!

I feel good!

To quote the legend JB himself, "I feel good!". The difference between me and James, aside from being able to do the splits, is that I didn't know that I would.

Like a marathoner entering the stadium for the last few laps before the finish line, I'm on the verge of completing my very first cleanse. And you know what, it was a piece of cake. Ok, poor analogy I know, but I really thought it would much harder than it was.

The decision to cleanse wasn't part of any New Year's resolution, but a combination of Holiday over-indulging and timing. When I learned that my good friend and health junkie Laura was organizing her second community cleanse starting in early January, my guts were like, "It's on!".

I felt like Laura's suited me more than those other health freaky ones because it's simple: Cut out: 1) sugar, 2) dairy, 3) processed or hydrogenized foods, 4) caffeine, 5) alcohol, and 6) white flour. Most of them are cut out of my diet already anyways.

But why?

I didn't do it because I was overweight (yet) or have low energy levels. I'm not a big drinker, either. Aside from the much needed break, I was also curious to see if I could do it. To see if I would feel any differently afterward.

As a rule, I eat pretty well. And because I eat relatively healthy, I tend to justify gorging my one food weakness: my sweet tooth. It's easy to tell myself that I deserve all those treats that seem to be omnipresent around the office thanks to my generally healthy habits. "Hey everyone, left over desserts from that meeting! Oh, a box of donuts to boost team morale is it? Chocolate mousse cake for so-and-so's Birthday! Whose turn for "Chocolate Friday" this week?" And hey, I'm a Frenchie. I'm going to enjoy the finer things in life guilt-free - it's in my blood!

I've never tried to give up sugar. I've cut back since my University days of downing an entire Haagen Daz tub in one sitting, but never given it up altogether. I savour my mid-morning warm, freshly baked banana loaf from Mangez, Mangez every few days, or my Saturday morning croissant au chocolat from the local patisserie. And truthfully, I'll have no problem resuming those relationships now that the cleanse is over; although, I am willing to go less often.

How'd I fair

It's only by stopping a habit and stepping outside your routine that you realize how much you do it. I wanted to see if I had the self-discipline to go without those sweet treats for four weeks. If I couldn't resist, then I'd have to admit that I was addicted.

The results were great. In three weeks, I've had two small cheats in the form of a chocolate loaf and some homemade banana bread. That's pretty good considering there have been chocolate macaroons (chocolate + coconut? I submit that there cannot be a better combination!) and countless other temptations that I've managed to 'just say no' to.

I resisted alcohol until just recently, too. I rarely have a drink in my hand on a weekday anymore, but I drink casually on weekends. I caved in at the end of a particularly stressful day at work last week when a text from a friend simply read: "Pint?". But, and I'm being honest here, it was much more about about getting together with a couple of friends than it was needing the alcohol to cope with the work stress. Did I mention I don't get out much anymore?

And on a positive note where alcohol is concerned, I did manage to go without the reflexive 'beer after footy' several times - even post-pint night! Fortunately, none of 'the boys' noticed I was standing around empty-handed, so I never had to confess I was cleansing. Imagine if these men's men had found out the cleanse was actually my choice, and not something my wife was making me do? I never would have heard the end of it.

The skeptic is silenced

The most shocking part of it all is how difference I feel. I know it probably shouldn't surprise me, but the increased mental clarity, energy boost, and good mood has been noticeable to this skeptic. Crazy as it sounds, I haven't been my grumpy old self this past month. Like the unpolluted water that runs from a fresh spring, my blood is circulating freely and my digestive system is not being overworked or poisoned. The ironic part is that feeling like this should be the norm.

Aside from the odd temptation, the only real challenge I've had with the whole experience is that I felt hungrier more often. I realize that beyond fruit, many of my snacks are sweet in nature and I've struggled a little to find healthy alternatives that actually fill me up.

Michele and I will plan to celebrate then end of the cleanse next week by taking part in the Dine Out Vancouver event - probably a French restaurant guaranteed to serve wine, cheese, and they better have a ridiculously rich chocolate mousse for dessert! I'm willing to punish myself for one just one night.

Thanks to Laura for raising awareness and congrats to all others who participated in this January's Community Cleanse! I double-dog dare you to try the next one...

Happy as can be at three!

From buffer to bumper
He's the embodiment of joy
When he dances, he's the jolly jumper.
Truly, he's a special boy.

Like Little Critter
He's got wild imagination
I can't think of anything much cuter
Than his train fascination.

Trains, trains, trains -
It's borderline obsessive.
I swear if I hear that Thomas refrain again
I'm gonna get start getting aggressive.

He can play alone for hours
Making up story after story
Maybe it's Dirty Percy at the Wash Tower
Or Gordon basking in his glory.

James got stuck in the shed
Percy delivers mail
10 little monkeys jumped on the bed
And Mater tells tall tales

He lives on pasta, cucumbers and tomatoes
Oh! Don't forget his breakfast waffles
He sings Twinkle Little Star concertoes
And is master of the dawdle

He's good at saying sorry
After bowling over his sister over
I grew up on Atari
And wonder what game will eventually take his world over.

Kael, you're a such of daily joy
Who is sweet as sugar pie.
I'm truly proud you're my boy,
The apple of my eye

One for Chloe

It's one for Chloe
As Chloe turn one
Hey, here's that blankie?
Oh hey, now where's that thumb?

You crawl at the speed of light
Disappear in flash
Stand all of 1 ft at full height
Just before the inevitable crash




You're a curious girl
Who likes to point out flowers and planes
I love to hold you in my arms and swirl
And you love to suck on Kael's trains

Yes, you adore your big brother
And just want to be like him
Everyday, you have a blast with your mother
Except when she gives your nails a trim

When I fold your cute, miniature clothes
I can't but go, "Awwwwww"
When I give you an Eskimo kiss on the nose
You can't help but go, "Haaaaa"

You're already growing up Schmoop
Before we know it you'll be in school
Next thing we know you'll be leaving the coop
And telling us we're SO not cool

But for now...

It's one for Chloe
As Chloe turns one
Hey, where's that blankie?
Oh hey, now where's your thumb?

Letting go

Perusing Facebook the other day, I came across a friend's update which struck me hard. Jon recently took his son Rhys, aged 4ish, to school and was shocked when Rhys refused to hold his hand once they had arrived at school. Up until recently, Rhys had wanted to hold Jon's hand all the way to the classroom.

I'm dreading the day when this scenario plays out for me - even though I know I can't postpone the inevitable. Kael has finally accepted my love (trust me, it took a long time)and before I know it, he'll be rejecting it again. One of the toughest parts of parenting must be letting go.

Glancing at my most recent post in May, I just can't believe the difference in Chloe over a three month period. From a helpless little baby to a spunky cruiser who is already on the verge of walking. They grow up ridiculously fast.

Chloe is scooting around, blabbing away and basically trying to mimic everything her big brother does. Kael had been fine with the idea of having a little sister until he realized that she could Diana crawl into his room,snatch one of his trains and shove it in her mouth. Suddenly, having a lil' sis wasn't so cool as it was threatening. "Chloe, Chloe, NO!!!" has been repeated more times than I care to remember these last few weeks.

I'm happy to report that he's starting to come around - sort of. Some things are just non-negotiable I guess (and I can understand that) but at least he's stopped smacking her if she comes near. Baby steps...

I suppose letting go is tough no matter the age. We want to hold on to the things that are dear to us so badly, whether it's our favourite toy or our child's love and attention, because we're scared we'll lose it forever.

I know I'm going to have to let go at some point. Maybe it's good that I'm aware of it, but somehow I doubt it's going to make it any easier. That's why I'm trying to spend as much time with my children as I can, while I can, before I'm being asked to let go of their hands as we approach the school entrance.

Happy Mother's Day

Dear Mama Michele,

I wrote this poem
To express to you
all of the wonderful things you do:

cook fabulous meal every day
do all the laundry that comes you way

Sing silly songs all day long
Like Iron Man or Bang a Gong

Snap amazing and incredible pics
To be that good, you must have some tricks!

Keep it fresh with your sharp wit
And a sense of humour that never seems to quit

I appreciate you more than I can say,
so I guess the best way is to just say: MERCI!

Je t'aime.

Just to get a reg

Some folks do outrageous things just to get a rep; as parents, Michele and I found ourselves doing the ridiculous just to get a reg - a registration, that is.

A little while back, I was leafing through the community centre brochure to see if there were any classes to enroll Kael in. Even though we spent so long in Taiwan, we weren't sold on the sign-my-kid-up-for-every-class-under-the-sun approach to parenting. However, a fun class to break the routine and interact with other kids seemed like a good idea.

When I came across a gymnastics class for toddlers, I needed look no further. Kael loves to climb, roll around, stand on his head, and spin around and around until he wobbles and crashes down uncontrollably. Not only are all these things encouraged in gymnastics, but, with any luck, his crashes might at least become somewhat controlled after the eight weeks.

But when we popped by the centre to register, one day before the class was scheduled to start, the worker laughed politely in our faces. "Oh, the "Tumbling Monkeys" is our most popular class. In fact, it fills up within hours of registration opening. Try again when the spring sessions start". From what the worker said, these classes sell out faster than Madonna tickets!

A few weeks ago, the brochure for the spring sessions arrived in the mail. We were on it. Michele dropped by the centre and was told that registration wasn't starting until the following Tuesday morning. And because of some technicality with the online registration process, signing up in person was mandatory. "Oh, and just so you aware, other parents start lining up two hours before it opens at 8:30", said the worker. Then he craned his neck around and whispered, as if he were a spy divulging top-secret information, "And you didn't hear this from me: I've heard that some parents go down to the pool early on the morning of the registration. If they're lucky, they'll get a lifeguard who's not trained on protocol, but knows how to register people in the system to do it. Remember, you didn't hear it from me!"

This sparked a debate between Michele and me. Is it really worth going through all this trouble? First of all, listening to instructions from his own parents is not Kael's forte, so is there any point in paying for a class that he won't be paying attention to anyways? From day one, the kid likes to do what he wants, when he wants. On the other hand, maybe he'd really love it and get into it. Maybe he'd have a blast? We can't not try, right?

So we decided to go for it. I walk Flea early in the mornings before work anyways, so I went by to see if we might catch the teenage lifeguard on duty.

I arrived at the centre at 6:15. I wasn't first. Two other parents were sitting there, eyes glazed over and coffee mugs glued to their lips. I tried the old, "I'm here to sign my son up" routine, but this was no rookie I was dealing with. "Registration opens at 9 AM, sir (is it time I started accepting people are going to call me 'sir'? It still feels weird to me). I suggest you take a number and wait with the other parents.", she said. I started to make up a sob story in my head about being a single dad and having to go to work and please, please... Then it ocurred to me: I was considering lying just to get my kid signed up for a gymnastics class. What's happening to me?

"What if I go home and come back?", I asked. "Some of the other parents that come after you might not like it", she warned, but what she really meant was "Go ahead, make their day, punk". I decided to take my chances and returned home to strategize with Michele.

We came up with a plan of attack: I tell work I have an appointment so that Michele can go back while I watch Kael. She will bring Chloe so that she can blame the baby if anyone kicks up a real stink or gets too hostile. We figured no one could argue with the tried and true, "Oh sorry, I had to go feed the baby" excuse.

It turns out that none of the other parents really cared after all. We celebrated Kael officially being signed up for his first gymnastics class as if he had just graduated with his Masters. "It better be worth it...", we thought to ourselves as we sipped on our champagne.

Coming soon: Tumbling Monkeys mid-way progress report

Spontaneous

As with most things spontaneous, it all happened rather quickly. Our friend Wendy called us at about 5 PM on a Wednesday, raving about a play called 'The Elephant Wake' she had seen the previous night. She promised that we would laugh and cry etc. I was intrigued, but knew better than to get my hopes up. I mean, lately, the chances of us being able to plan a night out - let alone do it on a whim - are about as good as seeing an exciting curling match.

But tonight, possibility wafted through the apartment. Dinner was already on the go; Chloe is finally going to bed at around 7; and Kael is not freaked out by the thought of our friends coming over to hang out anymore. We looked at each, a little surprised, and declared,"Hey, we just might be able to pull it off".

We hastily hatched a plan. While the stuffed peppers broiled away in the oven, Michele would take Chloe with her to the grocery store while Kael and I would take Flea out to the park. Meanwhile, Wendy contort herself in positions just painful to look at in her yoga class from 6-7:30 and then pop right over. Easy peasy. Did I mention the play started at 8 o'clock sharp? Ok, it was going to be tight. Though we still had our doubts, we decided to go for it anyway.

I'll spare you the never ending parenting details of picking up, putting away, undressing,brushing, calming down, bathing, dressing, and the rest of the tasks that add up to days of our lives that we'll never get back. The important part is that we got er done in time: Chloe was in bed, Kael bathed and in his pjs, and the dishes washed by 7:45.

But after all that effort, we now had a problem beyond our control: Wendy still hadn't arrived and her phone was off. It took about ten re-dials in a row with no ringing before I accepted that truth. Maybe she was having second thoughts. Maybe the thought of watching Thomas the Train repeatedly for two hours suddenly made her feel ill. Or, maybe her yoga instructor is a real yacker and she was sucked in by the dreaded blabber.. those meditative types can be quite chatty, ya know.

I had to laugh. How ironic that we had actually agreed to it and managed to organize ourselves in time, only for our normally reliable friend to ditch us at the last minute. Michele and I looked at each other from across the room and shrugged: all dressed up (well, at least Michele was) and nowhere to go.

By 7:50, I was ready to slump into the chair, resigned to spending another night like the rest of the last six months; in. That's not to say that I haven't enjoyed the last six months, but there hasn't been a whole lot of different. And tonight had promised to be different. I was actually about to call Wendy something very offensive when Flea suddenly beelined for the door, sniffing madly - a sure sign someone or something is on the deck. I opened the door and there was Wendy, with yoga mat in tow. She apologized, explaining that her phone battery had died. Ok, the truth is that Wendy isn't always that reliable.

Webthrew on our coats on while barking an abridged version of instructions and rushed off to the theatre, which is a convenient two minute walk from our apartment. We arrived just in the nick of time. I'm talking,the-emcee-was-just-about-to-enter-the-room-to-address-the-audience kind of nick of time. Arriving ten seconds later would have meant missing the show. But I guess it was meant to be. We bought our tickets, sat down and the lights dimmed.

Afterwords, we toyed with the idea of indulging in a glass of wine. But visions of Chloe screaming her head off filled our minds and we decided to go back and see if Wendy needed rescuing. And you know what? I didn't even care. I felt fantastic - almost drunk on life - because we had done something spontaneous and out of the ordinary. We had made it out.

You single people may think it's sad (and you'd have a very strong case), but all you parents know that it's all about the small victories.

All hail Kael - #2

All hail Kael
Who today turns two
May your dreams be filled with magical machines
Putting on a show just for you

What a difference a year can make;
From baby to little boy,
From basic to more complicated toys...
Frankly, it's about all the change your parents can take.

Alas, it will only fly by quicker
And there is so much more to come
I really don't want you to get any bigger
Because you already weigh a ton!

You're a big brother now
So you'll have a new playmate in the tub.
The sweet gesture that makes us all go WOW
Is when you decide to give Chloe a hug.

You've also become quite a singer, wouldn't ya know
With a vast repertoire of songs
From Old Mcdonald's e-i-e-i-o
To Frere Jacque's ding-dang-dongs

Machines are the latest passion
From trains, to cars, to dumptrucks
Sprinklers are also in fashion
As is pulling the wagon through the muck

You are such a happy child
That we like to call you "Chucklehead"
And yes, you still tend to be a bit wild
Right before bed.

You do some great animal impersonations:
Dogs, elephants, and owls.
You also do a great pig imitation
That makes all the passerbys howl

A big fan of books
From the lift up the flap kind
To Dr Seuss's catchy hooks,
To whatever is the book du jour at that particular time

You've got two speeds:
Full throttle or full stop.
You're still a pretty easy one to feed
And you love to hop on pop

Kman, you are the axle of our wheel
The shovel to our digger
The love we feel for you is real
And we don't think it could get any bigger!

First Impressions

Though we only stayed in the hospital for a day and a half - in a room rivaling our cozy apt in size - it sure is nice to be home again. I'm exhausted, of course; yet, I'm also so elated and buzzing that I had to sit down to share the miraculous experience while it remains fresh.

I probably should be sleeping given the road that lies ahead - a newborn, a spirited toddler and a recovering mother to take care of - but I couldn't resist a soothing bowl of mate and stealing a quiet moment to myself after these first few hectic days. Just prior to the epidural, when Michele was at the height of her pain), I can sympathize with that one, too. But in the end, isn't that all the more reason to be there, when it's toughest, and to be able to give that moral support when she needs it most?

Luckily, it was easier for Michele this second time around, given that her body had already been through it. However, as Michele reminded me, there is nothing easy about passing something the size of a watermelon through a hole that is half that size or less. There was a moment after about an hour of pushing that I started to be concerned that all the hard work Michele was doing wasn't paying off. But soon afterwards, that little head of dark hair appeared, with each subsequent push revealing a little bit more. And when at last the head, shoulders and rest of the body finally slipped through, my heart dropped and I just couldn't believe my eyes. Again.

At 3.895 kg, Chloe came out bigger than her brother, who is wearing clothing designed for three year-olds when he has not yet even reached two yet. She has very long and elegant hands, suited perhaps to play the piano, as Grandma noted, or to scratch records, as I preferred to observed. That is, if her brother will let her get on the decks (he still doesn't let me!). Her face reminds me so much of Kael as a newborn.

Thankfully, our worst fear has not materialized and we are happy to report there are no signs of colic. I've held her in my arms while she was awake for over an hour and not a peep or a wriggle from her. It's very odd for us. I keep half-expecting to break out screaming any second, and having to dust off the old hair dryer.

We were a little nervous to see how Kael would react when we brought Chloe home for the first time. We had been preparing him by reading him books about being a big brother (which he often requested on his own will) and explaining to him exactly what would happen. And sure enough, he was very curious about his little sister when we brought her in - for about 2 minutes anyways. You see, his little sister came bearing gifts, more specifically in the form a digger, and so his attention was naturally diverted after opening his gift. Since then, he has shown signs of interest here and there - and even gave her a hug this morning. More importantly, he hasn't shown any resentment towards her as far as we can tell.

I'm still on cloud nine at the moment. I'm doing what I can to keep our place somewhat neat and make sure that everyone is fed etc. But the real hero is Michele. She is such a trooper that it continually amazes me. Through the pain and sleeplessness, she continues to show nothing but selflessness rather than selfishness. She is a constant reminder of what Love is and I am very thankful that I am able to share the joy of parenthood with such a wonderful partner.

As my good friend Dave told me after Kael was born, "Now you know why mother's day is way, WAY more important than father's day."

Surprise!

“Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is the youth of old age.”

If Craig wasn`t thinking of his upcoming landmark birthday yet, he sure is now. The surprise party, when successfully pulled off, remains a winner; the celebratee is surrounded by loved ones when they least expect it. And given that Craig`s official 40th is not until September, he cannot be faulted for not suspecting it.

The whole episode was particularly amusing because of Craig`s attitude as we drove out to Scott Jonction, a town south of Quebec City about halfway to Maine, where most of the family on Maman`s side were awaiting. He spent a good portion of the ride whining about why on earth Mom would choose a restaurant out in the boonies when there are about 1000 nice restaurants in Quebec City! `Guess Mom is getting a little loopy as she ages`, I replied, giggling to myself whle shooting a knowing glance at Michele.

And sure enough, once we got there, we were overwhelmed with greetings from the amazing Tetu side of the family. I was so excited to see them - and with good reason. Ils sont formidables! It was pandemonium at first, all the adults doing la bise, hugging and talking over one another while the children screamed with joy while running around (``Y en a de la marmonne icitte`` said mononcle Reno). It felt so refreshing to be back in a culture that is so openly affectionate again.

Of course Kael was a major point of interest, as most of my quebecois family were meeting him for the first time, but he was far from the only child. All of my other cousins, except for one, are now unmarried with children. It`s true; there are five couples in total who have children and none of them are married. Michele and I are the odd couple out here!

But the night belonged to Craig, of course. They had balloons, a card signed by all, plus another impromptu violent birthday card created by six year-olds Leo and Youri (who don`t speak the same language!), candles in crepes smothered in maple butter rather than a cake, and some great pictures from trips of the countryside in Montmagny where we used to spend our summer vacations as kids. Those pictures of us riding the tractor or playing sports out in the great expanse of the `front yard` brought back fantastic memories.

It may not have been the raging party many 40th celebrations turn out to be, but I`m sure Craig was happy with the fine company of the Tetu family.Plus, he`ll get his rager come September. Whenever we are all together we are never short on laughter and merriment. Grandmaman Berthe actually said it best when she told me, after telling a surprisingly dirty joke at dinner, `I came into this world laughing and that`s how I`m going to leave it, too. Laughter is the music of the soul`

Amen, grandmaman.

Trip out to middle east - of Canada, that is

Once you have high speed connection, boy you can never go back. It`s taken me about a half hour to log in here, but I`ve finally made it. It feels like I`ve reached the summit of Mt Patience! I really thought the view would be better...

Nous voici in beautiful Quebec City. We expected nothing less than a hellish flight on Saturday and we were`t disappointed. Kael is not known for his sitting in one place prowess; he`s a mover and a shaker - at all times - therefore the prospect of spending hours on a plane without moving had us plenty worried. At least he had recovered from his feverish bout with tonsilitis the day before leaving.

As with most VAN-YYZ flights, there wasn`t an empty seat in the (sky)house. We managed to keep the little monkey at bay with stories and snacks for the first half of the four flight, but it was at that point that the real struggle began. KAEL NEEDS TO MOVE. I can`t put it any simpler than that.

To make matters worse, the Kman is in a real cling-to-mommy-or-else-she-might-disappear phase,so sitting with Papa only incited screams of torture. So poor Michele, with early third trimester belly roundish and full with Kael`s little sister, has to try to deal with a wriggly, squirmy toddler pushing with full force into the seat in front of him (how the man didn`t turn around once in annoyance is still a wonder to me)directly into her belly. With good reason, mommy was on the verge of losing it, and much to her credit, she didn`t.

And due to the capacity of passengers, there was rarely a moment when the aisles were free to roam. As soon as they did, we didn`t waste any time getting out there in a hurry to take advantage. Upon return after our short foray, there wasn`t far to go before the path was blocked, I wound up donating my seat to Kael and spent the better part of an hour standing, frequently having to contort my body in obscure positions in order to allow passengers and flight attendants passage.

Speaking of which, I must state for the record that there was not one `skyhag`on this Air Canada flight: all of the flight attendants were accomodating and pleasant. There`s hope yet!

But that tolerable situation soon came to a shaky end when we hit turbulence and I was forced to sit down. Kael was now worse than ever, in extreme struggle mode due to fatigue and lack of afternoon nap. There was no escape for Mommy or kid. It ended taking about 40 minutes before he finally struggled himself right to exhausted sleep. As Murphy`s Law dictates, we touched down in Toronto a mere 20 minutes later.

Once boarded on our connector flight to YQC, Michele declared loud enough for everyone on the enire plane to hear, ''I am never traveling with a child again!'' The good news was that the hour-long flight was not full, so the little guy would have his own seat.

This made a world of difference as he sat contently next to Papa for almost the entire ride. Well ok, he didn`t actually sit the whole time, but he was good. He spent most of the time violently opening and closing the shutter, climbing up and down on the seat, and flirting with an older couple sitting opposite. Most importantly, he was given enough space to be independent. As we learn more and more about his temperment, fiercely spirited and independent are his main strengths - and our main challenges.

We touched down into Quebec sain et sauf much to the relief of Grandmaman and Armand, who were anxiously awaiting to pick us up.

Travelling with a toddler is never easy, but I`m quite sure not it is doubly hard with a boy as active as Kael. In fact, I saw another boy who must have about the same age sitting quietly on his Daddy`s lap for pretty much the entire flight. Just luck of the draw I guess. And when they`re too young for Nintendo or movie watching, all you can do is endure as best you can, knowing you won`t have to do it again for another two weeks on the return trip home.

A Huge Fan of Fans

Ah, to be 18 again - 18 months, that is. I have been living vicariously through the eyes of my not-so-wee toddler lately and I tell ya, it`s one helluva ride. Peaks and valleys. Thankfully, the peaks nowadays are far more common than the valleys at this point.

It remains a constant source of amazement to Michele and I that such a spirited child is a product of our genes. It`s pretty strong evidence that we are all born with a certain nature; old souls reborn into this world to learn the lessons we need in order to be free.

`Chuckles` or `Chuckelhead`, as Kael is often referred to these days, is finding life positively thrilling now that he has mastered a few basic tricks such as eating with utensils and opening and shutting, well, anything that will open and shut. Those initial months of colic sure seem like a lifetime away at this point. He loves to laugh and play, a direct influence of spending his days with his Mom, whose sense of humour has a depth which continually surprises me.

Momma's boy


About a month ago, he also began to enter a cling-to-mommy phase. Only Mommy will do. Not Papa, not grandma or grandmaman - ONLY Mommy. The problem with that is that mommy is 7 months pregnant with Kael`s sister and not really in the mood to constantly lug the weighty little guy around. It seems that his brain has developed to the point where he realizes that he is a separate entity on this planet and the thought of a world without Mama strikes fear in his young mind. It can be frustrating for both Michele and I because on the one hand, she can't handle it physically, and on the other, my sensitive nature doesn't enjoy the constant rejection.

Speaking of weighty, the kid weighs a friggin ton! He is bigger and heavier than the majority of two year-olds we have encountered thus far, and even outweighed and was taller than my cousin's three year-old. Along with the stocky Black male genes, it might have a little to do with his healthy eating habits as well. We`re very lucky that he ingests almost anything we feed him - including olives, brussel sprouts and asparagus. Hell, he eats a more varied diet than my fourty year-old brother!

On his Papa's side, he has inherited my penchant for exploration. Whenever we bring him somewhere new, you can be sure that he will be fearlessly checking every nook and cranny of the place within minutes. His great curiosity is an admirable characteristic - unless you happen to be the one in charge of supervising him. Then, it`s a hell of a lot of work. If it is quiet for more than 20 seconds, we suddenly find ourselves panic-stricken and one of us bounds out of our seats to find him before the wailing begins. I feel like I have grown a spring in my butt because every time I sit down, I`m pretty much back up within a milli-second to tend to the boy. It's safe to say there are no dull moments when the Kman is awake.

Despite his insatiable curiosity and tendency to venture off into unknown territories we`d rather not have him explore, he does listen extremely well. When we say no, he not only understands, he more often than not obeys, too. The exception to the rule is when we are out in a park and he is walking on his own. During these occasions, when he want to go straight, he turns around and goes back. When we say turn left, he goes right. And so on. Perhaps it is a prelude to the upcoming terrible twos we have to look forward to.

One certainty is that the kid knows what he wants (again proof that personality is not necessarily hereditary). I can`t even count the times that I have tried to entice him into a game or play with a certain toy, only for the Kman to turn the other way or walk away completely uninterested, not even acknowledging my effort. It`s as if he is saying, `Are you trying to tell me what I like? Pa-sha!

I dig baby talk`

His only comprehensible words so far are `duck` and `that`. He has said `Flea`, Dada and a few random other words, but not often enough to qualify as part of his vocab yet. `That` is the most often heard because he wants to know what everything is without having to say it. Whenever he picks anything up off his plate, or turns to the next page of the book, he points to various things to ask us what they are - even though he already knows. And he always asks both of hisparents to make sure he is getting the correct answer because he`s meticulous. And thorough. Sometimes I say something different just to see his reaction, and sure enough he`ll pause, then keep asking me until he gets the answer he was seeking all along. He may be a wild monkey-boy, but he`s no dummy. He also enjoys telling stories in the form of babble. To think that one day all that stuff is going to come out in words we can understand is a thought that generally keeps me awake at night.

New Edition

It`s hard to believe that it won`t be all about the Kman soon. I can`t see how he is going to share the spotlight, but, like Flea, he'll have to learn. Let's hope that it doesn't take as long as Flea though, as she remains stubbornly opposed to Kael's presence. The way he clings to Mommy now could be a sign that he subconsciously knows what's coming. Either way, no matter how much warning we give him, the addition of his sister to the mix is sure to be a real shocker.

Seeing another cousin`s tiny six-week old baby the other day was a reminder of what is fast approaching in our household. It was exciting and a bit scary at the same time. Just as Kael is starting to become a self-assured toddler, we will again be starting the process again from scratch with a spaghetti-necked, helpless infant. The tar poops, the swaddling, the sleep-deprived nights etc. It`ll be easier because we are more confident in our ways, but it will very difficult if the Kman decides not to cooperate.

We are not counting on it, but we are definitely praying for a calmer temperament from our second one. Another winter with a colicky baby is unthinkable. I suppose if that is the outcome, then we`ll have to deal with it, but it would be about as unfair as Bill Gates buying a lottery ticket for fun and winning the jackpot. The fact that our situation is less stressful (ie we have job, furnished shelter, and we are re-acclimatized to Canada) is assuring should stress have any influence on causing colic.

Finally, I will try to spare all the cliches associated with the joys of parenthood, as you have undoubtedly heard them all many times over. Suffice it to say that they are all true. What maybe isn`t always repeated is the relentless amount of work it takes to do it right. As someone said to me before Kael was born,'being a parent is both the best - and hardest - thing you will ever do in life.'

The more I experience through Kael, the more that comment rings true.

Remembering Anne

I just learned that a lovely soul just passed on to the next life.

Anne, anyone that ever met you knows that you were irreplaceably one-of-a-kind.

I sincerely hope you meet all your beloved cat friends again wherever your soul is journeying to right now.

C'etait un plaisir de te faire connaissance.