three

Happy Birthday, dear Henry. You are our study in extremes - gentle and crazy, soft and so loud, one minute singing Hark the Herald Angels Sing and the next pretending to be Heavy Metal Mater. We can just barely keep up with you, but it's a really fun chase. We love you so, so much.

This weekend was all about celebrating Mr. Henry. We went for a restaurant supper on Friday (birthday eve), then had the family party on Saturday (his actual birthday day) and then had a nice family walk and leftover cake on Sunday (birthday boxing day).

And his party? He requested a St. Francis birthday party. What? St. Francis. I asked him three or four times on three or four different days and that's the response I got each time. So, St. Francis it was.

we did it

... but we're not sure we're doing it again? After an eight(?) year hiatus, Andrea and I laced up our runners for a 10k run in Oakville. Things that have changed since I last ran in a race:
1. we each have three kids. We had kids solely for the purpose of cheering us on in a race one day.
2. arm warmers. What are those?
3. smart phones. People were taking pictures, timing themselves, and listening to music ALL ON THEIR PHONES. Isn't that amazing?

That's all I can think of right now.

Anyway, we did it. 10k in 57:30, which I'm really happy with. For the record, Andrea probably could have done it in less time but she stuck with me.

Next up: basketball season.

happy birthday jonah!

after school buddies

and some other things also happened this week

Besides the Great Pooping Incident of 2013, we did some other stuff this week.

1. Henry all of a sudden thinks underpants are a great idea. Has been wearing them for 4 consecutive days. Wait. This still has to do with poop.

2. Annie uncovers our pear stash and frequently helps herself. Resulting in... more poop.

3. Charlotte celebrates her birthday! We have a fun time at the party and Annie eats many new things - olives, red onions, figs, and chocolate pudding among them. Unfortunately, rather than pooping these out, she throws them up in the middle of the night. Repeatedly. Poor, sweet girl.

4. David, Joe, and Henry have a Boys Day with Uncle Bill and Liam and visit the Streetcar Museum. Great time is had, though, curiously, Henry reports seeing no trains - only one plane and many rocks. But for the first time this week, neither poop nor puke play a significant role in the daily goings-on. Hurray!

poop is a very humbling thing

Any hope I ever had to be the calm, cool, collected mom, the "how does she do it?" mom of three kids (and just to be clear, that hope was always very, very faint), were obliterated today when we went to pick Joe up from school. On this 38C degree day, Henry, Annie, and I huddled together in the little patch of shade alongside the fence of the playground, standing opposite all the other moms waiting to pick up their little kindergarteners. And as we waited, with Annie on my hip and Henry holding my hand, I smelled... something. I looked down at Henry but, apart from his red, sweaty head, he seemed okay. I readjusted Annie on my hip to take a whiff and that's when I felt it - not smelled it but felt it. A poop explosion that had bust out of her diaper, now on my hand, smeared on the lower half of my shirt, and dripping down my shorts and onto my leg. Did you hear what I said? POOP WAS DRIPPING DOWN MY LEG!

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Oh goodness!" And, realizing I was attracting the attention of the line-up of moms across from me, I added, "Oh, pardon me!" (which I immediately realized was a terrible thing to say... if I was asking for pardon, maybe they thought I was the one who pooped! Oh my!). I think I blurted out a request for baby wipes? Mine are in the van... all the way across the parking lot... help? Anyone? I was greeted with blank stares. Little concern. Maybe some disgust. Not much camaraderie or "Oh, yes, I've been there, with poop running down my leg. I'll help you out." Just STARING.

Finally, someone offered up three teeny tiny baby wipes and I tried scooping up the biggest blobs of poop, all the while repeating, "Oh Annie, you silly baby! You messy baby!" just to hammer down the point that THIS IS MY BABY'S POOP RUNNING DOWN MY LEG. When I had gathered up all I could, I stood up, poopy wipes in one hand, baby in the other, apologizing to Henry that I can't hold your hand anymore, mine is too poopy, and looked up to see all the moms still staring... so I made it better by saying, "So glad to be getting to know you all. I'm the poopy mom!"

That did not make it better.

Argh! Panic! Where is Joe?! Why can't they just let him out of school already?! I need to run away!!!

Finally, Joe emerges and with a smooch (no hug, Joe, so sorry, my hands are all poopy) we beat it to the van as fast as we can. The tires may have squealed on our way out of the parking lot.

I used to think I was not easily embarrassed. But no - the truth is I just avoid putting myself into embarrassing situations. Because, turns out, I AM VERY EMBARRASSED. So embarrassed. Joe may have to transfer schools. Or, at the very least, Annie is going to be wearing a plastic bag on her lower half.

The end.

first day

He did great. Really, really great. His thoughts on kindergarten:
"Mommy, I used to be nervous, but now I'm really excited!"
"I'm only going to be gone just a short time. It's just six-and-a-half hours!"

And Henry's thoughts on kindergarten:
(in response to everything I said we would do today - "let's go to the grocery store," "let's eat lunch," "do you want to read some books?" etc.)
"And then do we pick up Joe?"

look who came to play!

It's Miss Rachel! We love that she has a career that brings her near so we can visit and play. Today we met her at the most awesome playground in High Park for a picnic and some bossy games (my kids bossed, not her).

Oh, and hello Sharon Peake. Rachel said you sometimes read our blog so thank you for thinking we are interesting! The next most witty thing I say is dedicated to you!

two of three

socializing

This weekend was visit-palooza. We hosted the Lockerts (this picture is minus two kids... the 3-year-old (theirs) and the two-year-old (ours) because they were having three-year-old and two-year-old moments)...

enjoyed supper (and dessert) at the Dhas' house...

and invited the Dufours over for playing and eating...

Now it's time to get serious. School starts this week. I may have mentioned that before.