Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts

December 31: Miiine

1. Free potatoes, rice and peas to go with our falafels.
2. Text messages from all over sending happy wishes.
3. Little Lukas at the kitchen table, offering me his candy cane ice cream, over and over. ‘Julia [insert developing language here] try miiine?’ End that with a huge grin! I cross to the other side of the table to be fed a Thomas-the-Tank spoonful. I return to my side. Repeat. Each time with a grin bigger than the last.

December 24: Pancakes

1. No big rush hour: morning commute into downtown.
2. Bill the time anyway: work cancelled for the afternoon.
3. Kids' Christmas Eve: being served imaginary pancakes.

December 22: Dining

This was a special three-part day.

1. Matthew: My nephew and I explored Kensington Market's art galleries, butcher shops and free cheese samples.

2. Keesh: Cabs to the 'burbs and back for dinner in a place known as Ajax (and what a fabulous dinner it was).

3. Julija: Post-Eastern European pub, dining at the 24hr McDonald's (for a McSober combo, thank you very much).

December 6: Sneaking

1. Two little nephews sneaking into bed early in the morning. ‘Oh! I thought you were mummy – but you're Auntie Julia!’

2. With my 4-year-old companion, sneaking pink and blue cream cheese icing and pink and blue Smarties from the carrot cake sitting atop the kitchen island.

3. In hysterics, rolling back and forth with Lukas on speckled white floor tiles after Gymboree: sneaking snow pants onto a giggly, fidgety two-year-old in a Canadian winter in a simultaneously hilarious and exhausting moment.

December 2: Mustard

1. Trekking through freshly fallen snow with the boys early on Sunday morning in a city hugged by the white blanket of winter.

2. Journeying through carol-filled hotel foyers and salons packed with young children wired on chocolate milk and sugary sweets.

3. Laughing through lunch as Lukas repeatedly offers me a green-coloured shortbread cookie wreath, dipped in bright yellow mustard.

November 25: Turtles

1. Playing Animal Yoga with my nephews after lunch. ‘Be a tree!’ [Stand tall.] What else? ‘I know! Let's be turtles!’ [Get down, curl up, tuck head into shell.] ‘Let's be bacon!’ [Lie down flat on back. Sizzle as frying pan heats up.]

2. Walking with my brother in the late afternoon. Walked right into the nail salon, where my hands and feet got some much-needed tender loving maintenance.

3. Biking with my Toque eastward at sundown, facing a full moon and a warm wind. Biked right into Izzy on Bloor Street, where we got some much-needed Linner.

November 17: Baking

1. My professor doesn't mind that my paper is late.
2. My friend doesn't mind dinner with my nephews.
3. My nephews don't mind the pungent smell of my Converse All Stars. They take turns smelling them. ‘My turn!’ ‘No, my turn!’ Matthew says, ‘Auntie, they smell like something for baking.’

November 2: Eyeballs

(Way beefore the film. Free brownie muffins and drinks at a local bank. Could these be the city's best-kept complimentary breakfast secrets?)

A. During the film. ‘I lost my cousin to Italian Vogue.’

BEE. After the film. Making shadow puppets on the stage. ‘Look! The little dots on the movie screen make up a big speaker!’

C. Way after the film. Shop clerk to my nephew: ‘If you look too much with your fingers, you will grow eyeballs on your fingertips.’

September 27: Hugs

1. Thanks: Dad set up the trailer from the cottage for my move.
2. Thanks: Mother Nature waited until after I moved to let it rain.
3. Thanks: Ron listened to my sob story at the local coffee shop.

Plus my two nephews, who came running into the coffee shop in their little dinosaur raincoats. Wet plastic hugs never felt so good!

September 19: Childhood

1. Julia and her nephew ride in the back of a convertible, holding hands and moving to the music, in beautiful sunny September.

2. Julia walks by her childhood home for the first time in years.

3. Julia walks by the old neighbours' homes and sees the young boy she used to babysit. He's not six anymore - he is a handsome young man!

September 4: Spoken

1. To relieve screaming children whilst trying to pay taxes at City Hall, enlightenment: ‘time to push chairs!’

2. ‘I had a doctor who gave me B12 shots because he thought it would make me lose weight. All it made me lose was my lunch hour.’

3. A voicemail from two friends in the States thinking about me.

Plus, cabbies, hair stylists, receptionists and strangers everywhere lent me their cell phones after mine died (again).

September 3: Family

1. Waking up to a smiling little boy's big brown eyes.
2. Enjoying prepared black English tea with breakfast.
3. Sipping German red wine from grandma's glasses.

September 2: Looking

1. A woman on the subway moved from her seat so my nephew Matthew and I could look out of the last subway car window into the tunnel.

2. Even though no children are allowed, a host at a downtown establishment let me bring Matthew in, so we could look out at the city from the 51st floor terrace.

3. A woman at a multiplex theatre let Matthew and me onto the premises, so we could go have a long look at the massive fish tank (where we found two Nemos).

August 29: Picnic

1. Listening to my nephews' voicemail messages to me.
2. Picnic brunch at a tucked-away lawn bowling club.
3. E, for documentation in an administrative nightmare.

August 23: Kick Your Aaa

1. A certain lifeguard at a certain hotel pool agreed to hook me up.
2. A certain Madrileña talked me through some romance issues.
3. A certain little nephew did some dancing for me (‘dance #4,’ ‘dance #79’) and, much to our shock and concern, reproduced a little hip-hop lyrical: ‘I'm gonna kick your aaa!’ He was clueless; it was hilarious. (This forever solves the to-play-or-not-to-play issue as far as I'm concerned.) We convinced the confused little guy to sing, ‘I'm gonna kiss your hand!’

August 17: Chat

1. Matthew: called to announce that he built a yellow Mega Bloks tower for me and that I live inside at the top.
2. Mama: called to warn that the temperature outside was dropping (she and my dad were worried about me).
3. Tammy: confirmed Saturday's details and scheduling in an online conversation from our respective workspaces.

August 7: Romeo

1. ‘All the world's a stage’ – A woman was pacing through the streets calling out over and over, ‘Romeo!’ I'm not making light of it; it was beautiful.

2. ‘And all the men and women merely players’ – There really are good-looking gardeners all over suburbia.

3. ‘They have their exits and their entrances’ – I left the house late; I arrived at work early.

‘AND...
...one man in his time plays many parts’ – Thanks to my dad, who scanned Sunday’s Letraset. I added some colour and am quite pleased. Click here to view the result.

August 6: Holiday

1. First Monday in August: a holiday in most of Canada.
2. Popsicles on sale at the big grocery chain for $2 a box.
3. My nephew and I took ‘naps’ on the steps of the swimming pool and shared where we'd like to go in our dreams.

August 5: Balls

1. ‘No, Auntie Julia! I will not be an artist when I grow up... Because I'm going to be a dinosaur when I grow up.’ -My nephew Matthew

2. ‘All I have in this world is my balls and my word and I don't break them for no one.’ -Tony Montana (Al Pacino) in Scarface

3. ‘Our fathers grew up thinking that brown shoes were for sportsjackets and grey flannels only; you wore brown with a navy suit and you were a parvenu. Then Italians came along, lit a cigarette, ordered an espresso and said, ‘Why are you all so uptight?’’ -Russell Smith, 2006-06-24, xyyz.ca

July 29: Putty

12 hours with my habibis!

1a. Clean-Shirts Journey: Julija helped with the downtown-bound ‘Tunnel!’ ‘Train!’ ‘Station!’ adventure. Lucky for us, the seats at the back of the last subway car were available.

1b. Dirty-Shirts-Covered-in-Popsicles-and-Chocolate-Milkshake Version: My brother helped with the homeward-bound trip. Even if the seats had been taken, I'm sure they'd have freed up quickly...

2. Mothers will appreciate this one. Little Lukas fell asleep the second we entered the restaurant for lunch; he woke up the second we exited, 90 minutes later.

3. Thankfully, the swimming pool was still open when we got home. We all jumped in and washed the day away.

Free silly putty and musical keychains also went a long way. Not to mention Starbucks, which is highly reliable for diaper stops. No wonder ‘Starbucks’ is one of Lukas's first words.

Happy Birthday, Yee!