Chomp, slurp, lick

You know you've made a kickass meal when the 12-year-old asks if it's okay if she licks her plate, and when she's finished doing so (you let her because she's old enough to know not to do it in public, and also you're flattered), she asks you if you're going to lick your own plate, because if not, would you mind...?

It was only eggs benny, but with cornbread and smoked prosciutto rather than english muffins and ham, and a lemony homemade hollandaise. (The cornbread was left over from the previous night's supper of moosemeat chili. Also a hit.)

What can I say, my family loves butter and whipping cream. Of which there was plenty in the cake I made for dessert: white butter cake with chocolate buttercream icing. A totally rich and yummy and super-simple cake. Sweetie McPie said "Can we have cake?" (Said not asked, because I don't think he thought it was possible, and didn't dare actually ask.)  But I whipped one up right then, right under his nose, just what he requeste: white cake with chocolate icing. I do take my job as a homemaker seriously!

Out and about

I have to say that, although I will never admit to ever being glad that summer is nearing an end, I am feeling pleasantly welcoming toward the onset of autumn. September and October, and the anticipation of Grey November, is such a nostalgic and invigorating time of year. A time for new routines, old rituals, putting away, taking out, spending that last bit of energy before hunkering down and cozying up for the long winter months.

And I will admit that that last heat wave of summer, just last week, was pretty inhibiting. We stayed indoors most of the week - it was just too stifling to venture forth. So this week's whiff of autumn is very literally a breath of fresh air, and Tim and I have enjoyed putting on our long sleeves and hoodies and getting out into the neighbourhood.

First stop, the Children's Museum at the Museum of Civilization. Okay, not strictly in our neighbourhood, but we did walk there and back. And Tim went to town while there, showing off how advanced he is. ;-)

Tim drove a bus.


Played chess.


And wrote some important things down.


Today, we headed down to the park at the end of the street, where they replaced the rickety, old, and too-high-for-toddlers play structure with an awesome new one that requires much less intervention on mom's part.

There was much climbing and sliding.




And, of course, some resting. (In the horseshoe pit, where else?)


Strangely, Tim refuses to go on the swings. Which, to my mind, are the funnest part of a playground. As far as I know, he hasn't had any disastrous or scary swing incidents. He'll sit on my lap on the big-kid swings, but absolutely revolts at the idea (or forced insertion into) the little-kid swings. Weirdo.

Saved in the nick

Two days ago, I mentioned that we were in the market for a second car. As of yesterday, we've dropped out of that market -- without having acquired a car.

Yay!

We didn't WANT to get a second car. We've been trying for years to stay committed to the reduced cost and footprint of having to work with just one car. It was a bit trickier with a little one, but we have a kickass stroller that carries a lot of stuff and pushes really easily. And we managed with CommunAuto because I could transport Tim in his infant carseat, which attached handily to the stroller.

We used the shared car a lot, because pretty much any activity other than shopping and going to a playground (ie: swimming lessons, music class, visiting any friends) required a drive.

But Tim has just outgrown the infant seat, and our supercalifragilistic convertible carseat is awkward and heavy and I just couldn't figure out how to get it to the shared car easily enough that I'd actually want to leave the house. In my head, I was stuck.

Then, coincidentally, I decided yesterday to catch up on my blog reading, and came across Alison's new writing gig. Her latest article made me do a double-take.

It reminded me of all the reasons we DON'T want a second car, and of many of the reasons we don't NEED a second car. It also provided the solution to my toddler-transport problem. It's so obvious that I seriously smacked my head and groaned: get a smaller, more portable carseat.

Duh. McPie read the article too, and we agreed that with a few adjustments (some mental), we could continue for awhile longer as we are.

And, rather than a new smaller carseat, my sister pointed me in the direction of the Carseat Travelmate. How cool is that? So cool, in fact, that all last night McPie was smacking HIS head and groaning, saying "why did I not invent that already?"

Toddler-ese

Tim is a chatterbox. He talks constantly -- to himself, to us, pointing at things, asking about things, asking for things, or just letting us know. Thing is, none of what he says comes out of his mouth in a language that we recognize as English (nor French). It's pure Timguistics. Whatever; it's damn cute. And because he uses quite specific syllables for specific things, we've been able to decode quite a lot of what he's saying so far.

Most spectacular is his "word" for berries. (Strawberries or blueberries interchangeably; they are among his favourite foods.) Most simply it would be written phonetically as "bugga-bugga-bug". But listen closely and there's actually a subtle "L" sound in there: buggla-buggla-bug. But even that doesn't do it justice, because the way he forms that hard "g" sound is complex and fantastic. It sort of starts at the back of his mouth near the throat, rolls out along the tongue where he flips it against his teeth and rolls it back to where it started. Try as we might, none of us can quite replicate it. It sounds so crazy and wonderful that we feed him more berries than any child should reasonably eat, just so we can hear him say it.

And I managed to capture him asking for berries on video (because I taped a whole lunchtime the other day). If I ever manage to find the cord for my video camera, along with the time to edit out the clip of Tim's pronunciation, I'll share with you the glory of buggla-buggla-bug.

New year's resolution

It's the first week of September, the kids are back to school, and there's a whiff of autumn in the air. In other words, it's the beginning of new year. My resolution: blog. Life these days is wonderful, challenging, complex, and full, and I don't want to miss capturing it and sharing it.

To avoid starting out already overwhelmed, I'll start fresh. No backtracking to try to catch up on the months that have passed unrecorded. It will have to suffice to say: we had a wonderful, busy, hot, fun summer full of travel (Baba's in Nova Scotia, Grandpa's cottage, frisbee Nationals in Sherbrooke, Nana's in Guelph), and full of family. Tim is growing into quite the little boy, who adores playing with his brother, loves the attentions of his beautiful big sister, and is getting pretty good at playing with himself. I've found a sort of groove as a mama and homemaker, and am much less frustrated and anxious than I was in the spring. (Turns out, we likely just had a bit of cabin fever. Also, we're sleeping a lot better!)

First exciting project that is unfolding this week: Operation Mobilize! We're finally taking action to acquire a second car so Mama and Tim can go out and do stuff outside of our neighbourhood. We're signed up to start swimming lessons and music/storytime in the coming weeks, and we've grown out of CommunAuto.

We've been putting off getting a second care for ages because we've been trying to stay committed to being a one-car family. Minimize carbon footprint, stay connected as a family, yada yada... But Tim and I find ourselves just sort of stuck many days, and it'll get worse as the weather worsens and the possibilities of what do do within walking distance shrink. So, we're going to thoughtfully and judiciously dip our toe into the stream of "average suburbites". Imagine.

Meanwhile, here's where we are: mellow, and usually hanging out in the backyard: