Pre-dawn

This was taken at 6:15 this morning. It's a little blurry cause I'm a little blurry. Lew climbed up on the couch and put himself between the two boys. He just can't be left out!!

Inside Duncan

This week at school/work, I made a portrait of my husband!

Age One is Fun

Lew really dislikes organization and is really into gravity and returning all objects to their lowest energy potential. I watch him, in the course of day, and wonder if the things he plays with (repeatedly) are any indication of his future interests.

The possibilities to date?

Maybe a garbage man:

Sorting the recycling...by taste.

Maybe a librarian:

The Lewy decimal system.

A Janitor or a shoe salesman:

How 'bout a little splash party?

File Keeper:

Just file this all under "M" for Mess.

I like that Lew is a blurr of activity in these shots as that is what he is in person: constantly on the move.

Senior Kindergarden

Friday was Dexter's first day of Senior Kindergarden. This is his second year of public school. This first day wasn't as emotionally dramatic as Dexter's first day of Junior Kindergarden as all of the true "firsts" had already been done. He's a pro at this "going to school stuff" and pretty much told us that. But Duncan and I made a deal of it anyway: we took him to the bus stop (at the end of our road) and then met him at school. Dexter bounded off the bus and was immediately romping in unison with his friends he hadn't seen all summer. He really didn't notice or seem to care that we were there at all. But I figure he would have noticed if we hadn't been (so I tell myself). Most of the drama was had by Neville who cried gigantic screaming tears as we left him standing on the deck in his underwear with Lewis and the nanny. I had a "flash-forward" in that moment, and saw Neville telling his Psychiatrist the root of his fear of abandonment.

Watching for the bus.

For Junior and Senior Kindergarden, kids on Wolfe Island go to school on "A" days, which are Mondays, Wednesdays and random Fridays. This schedule is memory intensive and screw-up prone. I laminate the sheet that indicates "A" days and semi-permanently fix it to the icebox. Year one: no accidental mix-ups. But I think it's just a matter of time.

This year, I hope that Dex learns to read! This will also be the first year (of many) that he'll have homework. I'm dreading homework. I really don't relish the idea of having yet another thing to nag my children about. I'm hoping that he'll be so excited about school and learning, that he'll just do it without constant reminders. My fingers are crossed!

People keep telling us how once kids get in school the years just fly right by. It's beginning to feel that way. Next year Neville will be in school too. I'm trying to "be" in these moments but they are so full and fleeting. It's hard to catch them.

Science isn't always exciting.

Today at work I actually watched water boil. Well, I waited and waited and waited, watching for the water to finally boil at which time I had to immediately turn it off only to watch it some more. The technical term for this is "degassing." I wish I could say I used the "waiting" time to contemplate or create. But alas, I did not. I just stared at those tiny bubbles, all blank and stunned thinking how great it would be to take a nap. Who knew there was so much air in a litre of water?

Science: 99% hard (well, not always--see above) work, 1% reward.

The sockless days of summer

I hate socks. With the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. This hate was not born until I had children. With three kids, all with different sized feet, socking them all is a real drag.

Socks are extremely labour intensive. Not only are they difficult to get on, they seldom stay on, so one finds oneself struggling to re-sock the child(ren) several times a day. Then, there is the washing of the socks. Making sure they get to the clothes hamper is hurtle number one. Hurtle number two: hanging them to dry. Hate it. Matching them is even worse as it seems far fewer pairs make it out of the wash then went into the wash. The result: a mother gone crazy searching through the sock bin only to find 1000 singleton socks.

I'm dreading fall and the return of sock season. In the back of my mind I've already started taking a sock inventory. I checked the sock bin the other day and it is empty. Where the hell did all the socks go? I find this a little unnerving. I know I had at least 20 pairs before the summer started. I then realized our house is currently like an "Eye-Spy" book titled "Socks:" if you study any room, you'll be able to pick out the random sock here, there and everywhere.

I decided I'd let Future Emily worry about the socks. Right now it's still summer. Denial and procrastination are beautiful things.

Sock lodged in window sill

Those two black things, those are socks strewn on the floor.

R.I.P. Red Blankie: 2004-2007

Neville and Red Blankie

This is a sad day. We lost Neville's Red Blankie.

This is what we think happened: we stopped at Value Village (gigantic re-sale store) on the way home from the cottage. Neville took Red Blankie in (I'm very slowly learning that taking things into stores is a bad idea). At some point, I grabbed Red Blankie thinking "I'll just carry it for safe keeping." Well, I must have absentmindedly (shocker) put it down. All we know, is that it didn't return to the car with us. Of course, we didn't realize our loss until we got ALL the way home, meaning, onto the island. Once we noticed the missing party, we called the store and Duncan went ALL the way back to VV (a two hour round trip). That's true fatherly love right there. But trying to find one small red blankie in a gigantic store with loads of used cloth items is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Totally impossible.

I'm definitely more upset about this than Neville is (I'm actually crying!). For the last three years, I have protected and looked out for Red Blankie like it was my child. Besides Duncan and I, Red Blankie was Neville's Most Loved (I'm assuming he loved us more but I suspect I'm wrong). Every sadness, sickness, hurt, fall into sleep, adventure, meal, car ride, EVERYTHING, was done with Red Blankie by his side.

The true impact of losing blankie is yet to be seen and I'm wondering if there will be lots of heartache over the next few days. I think I'm also going to return to VV with hopes that they will have priced and put blankie on the floor to sell. But it could be a race against time as Tuesday is the big 50% off sale. Tuesday is also my first day of school. All the makings for crazy.

Update:

I went to VV today on the off chance that I would be able to spot Red Blankie, thinking that it was likely hung-up in the baby blanket section. Low and behold, there was Red Blankie! Saved before sale day. I can't imagine anyone would buy it, given how it smells. I was so happy, I think I even kissed it (that's when I realized how badly it needs to be washed). I felt like a super hero when I showed up at home, Red Blankie in hand. Neville welcomed his Blankie with squeals of delight, a long cuddle, lunch and a nap. Ahhhh.

Reunited