Season of The Soup

We've all been there. My family of four has had the displeasure (and discomfort) of having just been there last week. We've been in the land of the sick. Congested, coughing, and sneezing with only soup, lemon n honey's, trucks and trains, and BBC's "Parade's End" to get us through it.

My soup season began with an old standby, Green Soup:

Next I made this pureed cauliflower soup from Vegan in the Freezer. Next time I'll try a version where the cauliflower and garlic are roasted for more flavour.

Most recently, I made a version of slow cooker "nutrient dense" chicken soup based on this recipe from Paleo Infused Nutrition but with more veg and noodles:

And though, according to The NY Times, the data is inconclusive on whether or not one should take in more fluids when suffering from a cold, we've decimated the tea cupboard and burned through honey, lemons, and ginger. 

The aforementioned trucks and trains (most of which were new additions at Christmas) have been a source of entertainment for our boys during these days of runny noses and ugly weather. The back edge of our sectional sofa has never seen so much traffic and the coffee table has been transformed into a bustling train station whose hours of operation perfectly coincide with the boys' bedtime. 

Today, we are officially over the worst of it and I have the best intentions for tomorrow. We will be out of pajamas by 8:30am and I plan to venture out into public after my husband heads back to work. The only downside of our recovery is that along with our tea supply we've also plowed through all five remarkable episodes of the BBC's "Parade's End". A return to regular life would seem dreary after our evenings spent in Ford Maddox Ford's parade if we weren't so thankful to have our nasal passages back in working order. 

All I Want for Christmas...

A waterproof picnic blanket in a bold and/or retro pattern like these from Portland's PoBa.

A gift certificate to any upstanding stationery store such as The Regional Assembly of Text or Buchan's.

I'll take any number and any combination of these mugs from Dahlhaus Ceramics. I have never coveted pottery like this before; it makes my heart ache. Available at Shiny Fuzzy Muddy Dec 8 & 9 at Heritage Hall on Main St.

A gift certificate with Victory Gardens to help me spend the $100 I need to get a free consultation to better plan and expedite my garden next spring.

A gift certificate to any of these Vancouver restaurants that I've been wanting to visit: Wildebeest, The Acorn, or Fray.

A gift certificate towards having my couch cleaned by Roya's Carpet Care because they have the best reviews on Yelp and decent prices, they use eco-friendly products, and I want my once-beige couch to look as pristine as the one in the picture on their website (see above). Baby drool begone!

OR:

Tickets to a show of any kind (concert, ballet, theatre, etc)

Pedicure gift certificate

Books on local history
Smartwool socks

A Pumpkin Walked into a Barber Shop...

Blog O'clock

I found these lovelyvintage clocks
over at Sadie Olive's Etsy shop.

It's blog o'clock. That is, it's 10:30pm and I've been sitting at this computer for nearly three hours since I put the boys to bed. I've got a rare night to myself and I fully intended (in fact, looked forward) to creative time tonight. However, my desire to think big and grow a business and stay in the loop and maintain my marketable skills pressured me into working instead.

Working for Edgewise that is. It's writing, it's editing, it's Facebook, it's Twitter, it's looking at dozens of fabulous artists' websites - I'm working on a press release for Shiny Fuzzy Muddy. It's working for myself. And yes, I'm really trying to complain here.

It's just that I was beginning to think that I might be able to free up my evenings for my creative endeavors and maybe even read one of the many books piled on my bedside table. I haven't even gotten halfway through my much anticipated copy of Stephen Fry's "The Ode Less Traveled" and it's nearly time to return it to the library; the same goes for "Vancouver: Stories of a City". Fortunately I own "Vancouver's First Century", though I'm not even a third of the way into that one - the introduction was such a pleasantly intricate and entertaining surprise that I think I'll have to go back and start over, when I have time of course.

My bedside milieu is not
quite so serene.

Then there are the two parenting books that are getting dusty and really should be returned to their shelf. Maybe I'll have a chance to read up on Dr. Sears' take on disciplining a preschooler and "What to Expect the Toddler Years" once my boys are in school.

That - right there at the end of the last sentence - was a completely ridiculous but rather representative thought not unlike others I have daily about all the wonderful things I'll do once the boys start school. It's only three or four years away (IF we don't have more kids)! Now rationally I know this is akin to all the wonderful things I was going to do on mat leave - other than take care of one teeny tiny baby and his or her teeny tiny needs - but the thoughts still occur.

Back to the bedside table. There are also a few food magazines kicking around, literally. The toddler knocked them off the table yesterday and they've been on the floor since; I keep writing 'meal planning' on my to do list and I keep just scraping by with one idea a day. I really do have the best intentions as the magazines on the floor can attest to.

Getting back to how I am able to afford to work - if you don't have young children that statement may seem like an oxymoron, but I assure you time is not money, it's much more valuable than money (though there isn't enough of either as far as I'm concerned). I can afford six hours a week to tentatively dip my toe in the lake of non-familial (aka: paid) childcare. I'm giving the granny nanny a brief respite, or at least I'm not solely relying on her, while testing out the world of the nanny share two mornings a week.

In theory, the goals that these six hours of childcare a week are going to allow me are to further my business, find a mentor, blog more, and possibly even plan more than one meal at a time. I'll keep you posted.

"A house without books is like a room
without windows" Heinrich Mann

I Love Me a Good Bedtime Routine

A consistent bedtime routine can make or break a vacation, settle a late night or a rushed bedtime, and generally make the day to night transition smoother. A routine gives a sense of familiarity and comfort and it can be taken and used anywhere - on a road trip where the kids are strapped into car seats in the back seat at bedtime, on an airplane with children on your lap and strangers all around who are hyper sensitive to sound, or in a foreign hotel room or distant relatives' guest room. I've taken to memorizing my favorite rhymes and songs so that I don't even need light or books to read so long as I am within earshot.

When I sing to my kids at bedtime I tend to always fall back on the same old songs. There's the predictable and wonderful "May There Always be Sunshine", (we fill in the names of the people in our family or who we saw that day). There's the somewhat unlikely "Brokedown Palace" by the Grateful Dead; it's pretty cute to hear a two year old sing "listen to the river sing sweet songs to rock my soul"! And then there's the unlikely two verses of the hymn "How Great Thou Art"; it's a long story, suffice it to say it's a fond memory thing.

There have been some new additions to my repertoire since attending baby time at the library for two years straight. I've appropriated the short but sweet ditties that can be repeated as much or as little as the situation requires. You know how it is; sometimes you need a short little four-liner to get your toddler through book closed, light off, and into bed so you can get out the door and other times you need something simple enough that you can repeat it until your wakeful baby returns to slumber while you're still half asleep yourself.

Sailing, sailing over the ocean
Sailing, sailing over the sea
Sailing, sailing over the water
Sail back home to me.

Tall trees, warm fire,
strong wind, rushing water.
I feel it in my body.
I feel it in my soul.

Do do mon petit
Do do mon petit
Do do mon petit
Et bonne nuit, et bonne nuit.

Some nights I just can't bring about a singing voice and so I've started memorizing stories. So far I've committed to memory "Goodnight Moon" by Margaret Wise Brown - who hasn't? "The Big Red Barn" by the same author, "Wynken, Blynken and Nod" by Eugene Field, a dozen R L Stevenson poems (which I adore), more than a dozen traditional sleepy time rhymes from anonymous sources, and one beloved poem by Shirley Hughes titled "Alfie Weather" but which I call "Benny Weather."

If you're not already acquainted with Shirley
Hughes and Alfie get yourself to the children's
section of the nearest library!

Alfie Weather

Whether the weather is sunny
Or whether it's drenching with rain -
A river along the garden path,
A sea of mud in the lane;
Any old weather is Alfie weather,
He doesn't really mind,
Even the sort that nips his toes
Or the steamed-up-windows kind.
Sooner or later the clouds will set sail -
Maybe after tea...
Sooner or later the sun will come out,
And so will he.

Working for the 'Hood

It's a whole lot better than working for the man and there are decent perks too. Since moving to my current neighbourhood and staying home full-time with my two kids I haven't been able to get involved enough in the local goings-on. I like to feel like I'm making a difference and being active on a super local level lets me see the change my efforts make; it's more gratifying than vacuuming! I've also really honed my clip art skills as you can see below.

Here's a sample of a few of the projects I've help organize.

Right Back at Ya'

Thanks to Lisa over at The Sprog for naming me and my Mighty Little Acorns in her List of 10 Compliments to her bloggy buddies. It's good to be appreciated!

If you haven't checked out The Sprog (and my listmates) I'm sure you will enjoy!

This Week's Books

The Stars Will Still Shine by Cynthia Rylant and illustrated by Tiphanie Beeke

"This new year the sky will still be there..."

Here is another book that reads like a poem and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Rylant has a talent for unassuming language that packs a sentimental punch. This book reminds us of the big picture through small details. It is at once hopeful and reassuring making it a great nighttime read.

The illustrations portray the highlights of a childhood year as an adult might remember them: beach days with ice cream cones, reading curled up on a couch next to the fireplace, swinging on a swing in a tree, eating peaches and making pies. Along with these happy times there may be darker times, but the author assures us that in grey, winter cities there can be colorful flowers, even dark nights have light, and despite obstacles in our lives the "sky will still be there / there stars will still shine / birds will fly over us / church bells will chime".

When I Was Young in the Mountains by Cynthia Rylant and illustrated by Diane Goode

This biographical story about the author's childhood in rural Appalachia was a favorite of mine as a child. My mom always called me a "mountain girl" when I was young in the mountains. I still identify with that part of me despite having lived in the city for the past seven years. I can't help but feel that this is only a temporary home and that if I stay here too long I will disappoint a part of myself and possibly my parents who chose to bring me up in a rural area.

As a girl it was clear to me that this story took place a little earlier in time and a little ways away in distance, but nonetheless, I could relate to shelling peas from the garden, warming up by the wood stove, drinking hot cocoa, and reveling in the still evening air of the mountains.

It concerns me that my kids won't relate to this book as I did, not being raised in a small town in the mountains. On the flipside, I imagine they will find themselves in other books that will make an impression deep enough they'll remember a few of the words and illustrations when they're adults living far from home.

How to Look Lovely

My Local Orchard

I never would have guessed how much local fruit I'd be eating living in my central city location. This August I picked, ate, shared, baked, and froze a bowl of superb yellow plums, a handful of Italian prune plums, a couple buckets of blackberries, three colanders heaped with red Santa Rosa plums, 150 apples, and at least two dozen bunches of the best green grapes I've ever eaten - and all grown within one square block of my house! 

In our backyard we have two apple trees. Last year we had two dozen apples from the big tree and maybe two edible ones from the small tree. We pruned the trees last fall and this summer we got 100 apples off the big one and 50 off the small one!

Doin' it homesteader style

We ate and baked with the gorgeous 100 apples from the big tree but, other than giving the somewhat scabby little apples to my younger son for teething toys, I figured sauce was the solution. I was able to borrow from a neighbour (who's also a friend) an apple saucer (well, that's what I call it). She had it from her mother (who's also a neighbour) who used to use it in her homesteading days. 

I covered the apples in water, brought them to a boil, simmered them until the flesh was soft and the peels cracked, then tossed them in the apple saucer and sauced 'em. I added back in half the cooking water to lengthen the sauce (and not waste that pink gold - yes, the apple cooking water was a lovely pink lemonade color) and my boys ate it up right away. I got two mason jars out of two dozen of the worst apples and I feel right pleased about it!

Last meal ever eaten out of that tea cup;
he broke it on his way to the dishwasher.
Fortunately, no apple sauce was harmed.

Apples, sauce, and a prime example of
applesauce coma after two helpings.

Apparently our wall color is a dead ringer for homemade applesauce.
Put that on your paint chip Benjamin Moore!

Family Mathematics

My husband and I knew we wanted more than one child before we'd had our first. (Heck, I knew I wanted more than one child before I had a husband!) We didn't exactly anticipate having another quite as soon as we did; some loving friends with a child the same age as our first told us that we were crazy when we announced the second pregnancy. In truth, it wasn't a mental condition but an illness of the heart; we'd been bitten by the love bug. Our 7 month old was sleeping through the night, was a good eater, had never had a fever nor a diaper rash, and the unpredictable early days were quickly becoming a distant memory.

Now as a mother of two tots I find myself having an internal daily debate about whether or not we should have a third. The overwhelming argument for is the simple equation that another child equals more love. There was a time when I wondered how I could ever love another as much as my first, but the most mind-blowing part of parenting is that one's capacity for love grows with each child. And then there is that child's potential love to both put into the world and to draw out of others which perpetually raises the world love-o-meter too. It may sound hokey, but, honestly, what's wrong with more love? (Well, besides the increased work and stress and money and landfill space it takes to raise that little love machine.)

Our #2 has rather seamlessly fit into our family. It helps that so much of the world is set up for foursomes: cars, dinner tables, board games, roller coasters - not that we've taken him on any amusement park rides as of yet. In my experience, the second baby is easier simply because I'm more relaxed; I hardly check in with parenting books and have visited the doctor for check-ups less often too. The second learns to "deal" as the firstborn sometimes takes precedence (i.e.: when the older one is about to run into oncoming traffic the younger one might just have to cry while safely buckled into the stroller parked with the brake on well out of harm's way). 

Of course, we already had all the baby paraphernalia, all we had to get was a second car seat and a double stroller (see previous post). Personally, I don't miss alcohol much as I never got back into the habit after the first, so I kind of forget what I'm missing now that it's more than three years on the wagon. And, let's face it, breastfeeding is a wonderful bonding and cuddling experience and the cuddles are a top reason to do it all over again. 

On the downside, getting a family of four out the door, to the dinner table, or into bed takes more time, though at least with two kids there is still a parent to wrangle each child. Also, with each subsequent baby, there is the fear (and the fact) of losing further touch with the working world and one's career and personal aspirations. 

One mom friend of mine recently returned to her job after her second maternity leave ended and she found work to be a welcome change of pace. She said it was a luxury to be able to focus on something without being disturbed by persistent whining... for the first week. Soon her decent job became "same old" all over again. As for myself, as someone who decided not to return to the ol' 9-5 and is choosing to keep my kids at home and out of daycare for a little while longer than mat leave allows, I try to keep one or two toes in the working world so that I don't end up with a big gap on my resume. Despite knowing the truth of it, "stay at home mom" just doesn't cut it when explaining what you did for those "unemployed" years. 

My hubby and I are in agreement not only about our kids not going to daycare right away but also about the benefit of siblings. We each value our sibling relationships so much that we couldn't deprive our kids of it. 

When all is said and done, the truly unpredictable baby days (the first 3 or 5 months of a wee one's life) are challenging because of the lack of sleep and readjusting to it all, but I honestly believe that if I had five kids or nine it would be the same: I would make it work. I figure I will not ever regret having another but I might actually regret not having one if I don't.

First Comes Love...

Then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage, and then another one 17 months later and now you need a double stroller.

There was a time not so long ago when I disdained (and very possibly even mocked) the owners of double strollers. I mean, really, they are worse than motorized mobility scooters; they take up as much space and often contain crying babies. As with so many things in life, watch what you laugh at because you too may be laughable one day.

What I'm driving these days, the 2011 Baby Jogger City Select

While this new stroller felt conspicuous and ego-tastic for the first week, as with many aspects of motherhood, it soon came to be essential, and not long after that, taken for granted.

A Brooklyn neighbourhood proposed turning bike
lanes to stroller lanes; local moms were quoted saying the
lane wouldn't be wide enough for their double strollers. 

I could tell you that this is the best double stroller out there - if you don't mind the price tag - for many reasons. It has ample shade canopies (a surprisingly hard thing to find), serious storage space underneath, foam-filled tires (air-filled are prone to punctures), it accommodates multiple configurations (both kids facing forward, backward, facing each other, facing away from each other, et cetra), you can add on pieces like trays, rain covers, bassinets, et cetra, and it easily converts to a single stroller. All this to say that the real clincher for me was that it is not a double wide stroller. I just don't think I could handle bumping pedestrians off the sidewalk constantly. I mean, have you ever been on the receiving end of one of those bad boys? Proponents of the side by side strollers can be heard saying, "It's only as wide as a wheelchair!" as though it's a selling feature. But I've seen the dismay cross the face of oncoming walkers when they see the wide load of a double wide stroller and twenty sticky fingers rolling in their direction. 

After having my first baby I remember feeling as though I would never again be able to leave the house to go grocery shopping. Now I've grown so accustomed to my big stroller that I find myself wondering how I will ever grocery shop once the kids have outgrown it. Carrying shopping bags by hand? Or worse, driving to get groceries? Give me my 34 pound baby-mobile any day!

Little Nut

Ponytail No Longer

I did it. I chopped my hair off. It's not the first time nor is it that last time, but considering long hair is my default setting, it feels darn good - cathartic really.

I pretty much walked into Bye Napoleon and said to Jenn (my hair's new bff), "I'll take one of these please" and walked out an hour later smiling ear to ear.

I wanted this cut

Or this

Sure

Definitely

It's hair like this that caused me to delay
cutting mine for so many months. 

Mighty Squirrels

Love it! Courtesy of The Boy Fitz Hammond

This Week's Book

The Little Yellow Leaf by Carin Berger

I just discovered this author and book (published in 2008) and yet the latter feels comfortably familiar while keeping me turning the pages.  I'd call it an instant classic but I'm willing to bet someone out there has already dubbed it thus.

The Little Yellow Leaf had me at the cover. While title is sweet as are the illustrations, I also admire the font, the colour palette, and I that the entire book jacket is one image so that when the book is being read an onlooker sees the big picture.

Upon first read I liked the story and it's quaint clarity as well as the previously mentioned comfy yet fresh quality of the art that comes, in part, from the use of collage with hints of text, textbook graphics, foolscap and graph paper. (I wondered where the term foolscap came from - I'd always thought it was "full scap" surely due to some grade school teacher's pronunciation - so I looked it up. Just follow the link to learn more.)

In case you were unsure which
little yellow leaf is our protagonist...

After a couple more reads I see now just how much the artwork adds to the tale. The author/illustrator is an expert at perspective. The tree itself appears straightforward but if you look closely (the images you see here don't do the book justice) there are words in them there trees, literally! Throughout the story we see the little yellow leaf's oak tree in different light, weather, and from different distances and angles.

Brilliant perspective: view of the
oak tree from above

Once the leaves are airborne the fields far below are a patchwork quilt of understated colors and patterns, but they are not simply a two dimensional backdrop, the fields have hills at their edge and sky beyond so that the viewer is not looking straight down on the field but is there, in the air with the leaves.

Collage patchwork quilt of fields and hills

This book is whimsical, homey, and full of hope; now to go find more from this author!

August is Enchanting

Dear Blog,

I think we can all agree that summer is lovely, if too fleeting. By now we've strung together a few weeks of sunshine and surely there's more to come, but already the nights are getting dark noticeably earlier.

The green (and purple and yellow) beans are coming in, our first blackberries are turning our fingers purple, the apples have just begun to fall, and a generous neighbour has made deliveries of heaping bowls of local blueberries and a baker's dozen of Fraser Valley corn still wet with dew. We've spray parked, sprinklered, and road tripped. We've pool dipped, BBQ-ed, and picnicked. we've eaten peaches on beaches, scraped our knees, and had one good summer storm complete with thunder and lightening.

It was a chat at a preschooler's recent birthday party with Lisa Corriveau of thesprog.blogspot.com that put my fingers in motion and my rear end in my desk chair and now I am ready to come back to you again... real soon, I promise.

Meanwhile, August is enchanting. Wish you were here.

Sierra