A quick disclaimer for those who read The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn – no spoilers but to recap – it’s a lovely story about a Little Racoon (LR) nervous about leaving his Mama Racoon (MR) to go to school, so MR kisses LR’s palm and explains that if LR misses MR, he can touch his kissed palm to his face and feel his mother’s love.
Does he or doesn’t he feel his mother’s love? I won’t spoil it for you, but let me tell you how my version went (and this is where my disclaimer comes in).
It’s best *not* to try this Kissing Hand strategy when a child is already *very upset* about the impending separation because the exchange may very well go something like this:
Child: Mama, I NEED you. This doesn’t feel right. Please don’t goooo.
Mama: It’s okay, I will be back soon. Here, give me your hand, and I’ll give you a kiss like the little raccoon.
Child rips hand away and begins flailing their arm as they scream: I DON’T WANT YOU TO KISS MY HAND. I WANT YOU TO STAY WITH ME.
Mama: I understand, but if you just let me kiss your palm—
Quickly grabs child’s hand and kisses palm.Child: IT’S NOT WORKING. I DON’T FEEL ANYTHING.
Tries to kiss palm again.
Child: STOP KISSING MY HAND. IT’S NOT REAL THAT I WILL FEEL YOUR LOVE.
Mama: It helped the raccoon.
Child: WELL, I’M NOT A RACCOON.
So, just to recap, it’s best to apply this strategy earlier in the process *before* the child has already started to freak out.
After a five-year break from running, I kept saying I’d get back to it hahahahaha oh this is funny, I said I’d get back to it hahahaha really I can’t even finish this sentence, ok wwwwhew…I said I’d get back to it when I have more time. What a startling discovery: there will never be more time, it’s a matter of choosing to run over the hundreds of other things vying for my attention.
And I am better for it. Happy to report I reached my goal of 5 miles a week in 2022. 260+ miles (some weeks I ran more than five).
As suspected, it did a lot of good for me, mostly mentally but my strong legs are definitely a plus. If I’m feeling happy, I’m even happier after a run. If I’m not feeling happy, it turns out one can pound many things into the pavement – anxiety, anger, frustration, grief, disappoint, sadness, depression – they all swirl round and round in the head and as one runs they move down the body and out through the soles of the feet.
They may be waiting for me when I finish running, but I am always a bit better off than I was before the run.
Special thanks to my better half for helping me reach my goal. He’ll walk through the door and I’ll say, “I just need 30 minutes, keep the little darlings alive” and then I am gone, running like the wind…no, not true…running more like a cool, gentle breeze.
Upon reaching my 2022 goal, I told a friend there would be an increase in 2023. She said, “Oh, so you’ll do ten miles a week this year?” I looked at her like she had three heads and then confirmed, “Six” – paused here for dramatic effect – “I’ll run six miles a week this year.”
In search of a tiny ice scraper for eyeglasses, must be SMALL enough to scrape off ice from lens but BIG enough to fit between thumb and forefinger.
Coldest temperature was -2.2° F (-19° C), resulting in eyelash icicle.
Getting new gear, although when I wear my buff band over my face in the winter, I look like I am about to rob a bank.
They had a good life.Rude deer blocking my path.
Running at night for the romantic lighting.
Running my first race, joined by family – a 5k and then a 1k with my kids.
Fierce – her uncle confirmed this was the look my little girl gave to anyone who passed her.
My little boy would sprint and then would take a little walking break and then sprint again and so on and so forth.
Watching the ombre effect on the trees in the fall was very distracting for my running as I would have to stop and stare.
I always check on the children before going to bed – that magical time of night when you peek in on your little ones and watch them sleep for a moment, cover them with the blanket, maybe steal a kiss. The other night, I was waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness as I looked down at my little girl and wondered what was wrong with her face. I furrowed my brow as I waited for my eyes to adjust (note to self: must eat more carrots for better night vision) and continued to get more freaked out because she looked so weird. I wondered, “Is she having a bad dream that’s making her face contort? WHAT IS GOING ON?” I panicked and quickly reached out to touch her face, which turned out to be very soft because it was her STUFFED SLOTH I was staring at.
So I am doing fine over here, just fine. I’m sure this happens all the time to other parents.
I love hearing the French language here in Quebec (and trying to learn it but at this point my six-year-old is outpacing me).
Sure, it feels like I need to be a mathematician to say a number, which took some getting used to. I just checked my math and here are two examples:
76 soixante-seize would be “sixty-sixteen” in English
99 (watch out, this one’s a doozy) quatre-vingt-dix-neuf would be “four-twenties-ten-nine” in English
I appreciated the bluntness and honesty when I discovered the French Bible does not call the last book “Revelation” but rather “Apocalypse.”
It took me a minute to accept that a rooster doesn’t say “cock-a-doodle-do” in French but rather “cocorico.” I still say “cock-a-doodle-do” when a rooster sound comes up in conversation, but after opening my mind a bit I came to accept that it can also sound like “cocorico” if you really sell it.
I am getting a handle on Celsius but am currently in a grey area where neither Celcius nor Farenheit make sense without the other one.
So I could write a lot about all the things I love and learn while in living Quebec.
But who in the h-e-double-hockey-stick is Charlie?
It’s not quite fair to the other books because this has been a favorite since I first read it in 2004, and this is my fourth time reading it, maybe fifth.
Second favorite: L’Assommoir
I read this because it’s one of my husband’s favorites, but at one point I threw the book down to go to him and ask, “Why did you have me read this? I’m so depressed for these people!” It’s so well-written, though, and truly transports the reader to another place and time so I kept going.
Read to my kids, standing between their two rooms at night, which is much better than having them come in and out for an hour:
The Secret Garden
My little boy’s review: “This is sooooo boring.” And I questioned how much my little girl was actually listening when she asked way too far into the book, “Who’s Mary?”
Ollie’s Odyssey
A gift from a dear friend, received when she came to Montreal right before Anna was born and I said, “I will read this to her one day” and that day finally came.
Ok, ok, I’ll read you: The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
I’m in a FB book group and so many people are obsessed with this book that I grew annoyed by it. A friend offered to let me borrow it, and I was like, “Book, are you following me?” Then I was reading my college alumni magazine, and saw an article about someone I went to college with and how she wrote books and was pretty successful. I turned the page, and of course she is the author of this book and many others. So I read it out of support of a fellow college alum…and to see what the big deal was…which wasn’t so big after all. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an entertaining read, just a little overhyped.
Fooled me once: Daisy Jones & the Six
It’s written like a transcript from interviews of a band and after a couple of chapters, I tried to look up their music. Multiple searches on different music platforms yielded no results to only realize it’s a novel and she made it all up. You got me, Taylor Jenkins Reid.
Boston Public Library *most borrowed book of 2022*: The Midnight Library
A nice little find in one of those Little Free Library boxes, interesting concept.
Tonight is the grand opening of the first completed condominium in Riley School. It is nothing short of spectacular. It will be open as a model and I can’t wait for you to see it when you have the opportunity to come over. After three years of working toward this, it is like a dream seeing it all finally happen.
Municipal elections are this November 8th, so here I am again doing layouts for advertising, brochures, etc. This is my “last hurrah” in this advertising bit – it’s just not much fun anymore – only a headache. A for real case of “burn out.”
I know Mother and Dad want to come over to see Jennifer. They’ve had trouble getting a good day – Dad has lots of meetings and Mother with her therapy sessions. They are going to Hawaii October 1st for ten days so I hope they can make it over before then.
I called the IRS and got an extension on submittal of all the documentation. What a royal pay in the — all this is! They have given me until Oct. 18 to send it all.
People are still remarking on how pretty Jenny is – even though none of her pictures reflect her true “baby doll” features. I hope you and she are by now getting some semblance of a normal night’s rest. And while the rigors of meeting her schedule are great I’m sure that finally getting to dote over the daughter you thought you would never have gives you special joy. While she is God’s gift to us both – she is His special gift to you. I am so very happy for you.
my love to each,
Les
In my experience, losing a parent when you are young causes you to cling to every piece of them that you can, every detail of their life that you can find or someone will offer, the good and the bad because it takes both to know a person.
Over the years, we have been given things that were in storage – one of those things was a drawing of the old Greenfield High School, also known as Riley Elementary School. I knew my dad loved historical buildings – it would make sense that he would keep a drawing like this – and I was happy to lay my eyes on something he loved. Then my uncle explained that one of my dad’s real estate projects was converting the old high school into condominiums. In 1985, just as it was nearing completion, it was destroyed in a fire. What a great loss for him, as well as for Greenfield, losing a beautiful building that held so many memories. I took the drawing home and hung it in my living room, wondering if my dad had it hanging somewhere or if he took it down after the fire.
A couple years later, my mom gave me a letter my dad wrote to her in 1983 shortly after I was born. My eyes first skimmed the letter, taking in his handwriting, which has a resemblance to my brother Andrew’s. As I read the first paragraph, the drawing comes to mind as he writes about his project at Riley School. It felt like when you find two puzzle pieces that satisfyingly fit together. So now the drawing and letter live side-by-side as they brought my dad to life, helping me know him a little bit more than I did before.
My inaugural lifestyle post is for all of you out there trying to down those eight cups of water every day.
I love champagne, but good champagne is expensive.
Water is less expensive.
And it turns out, while I do love champagne, I mostly love drinking from a champagne glass.
I think you know where this is going, don’t you?
My first piece of lifestyle advice: drink water from a champagne glass.*
I keep mine next to the sink, right next to my avocado plant named Arthur. I checked the measurement and it’s exactly one cup. Now that body of yours is made up of about 60% of water, give or take, and it needs more every day. I know, so demanding. You may find yourself asking, “Body, can’t you just use what you have?!” It can’t. It needs you to give it at least eight champagne glasses (aka cups) a day.
Now did the guy who came to install our gutters last fall think I was tossing back champagne at 9 AM with two small children to take care of? Yes.
But did I get my eight cups of water in that day? Also yes.
*If you do not work from home, this may not go over well with Management. Please confer with them before proceeding.
1: Casually look up when hockey starts and what day of the week it is. Easy peasy.
2: Gasp in horror when you see that it’s TWICE a week and then faint from shock when you learn it’s Saturday AND Sunday morning at 7:40 AM. For a 4yo.
3: When you come to, your husband is waiting to go over all the equipment and he’s saying the terms in French so you really start to spiral until you start to write it all down. “What’s the jambieres again? The shin/knee things?” This helps a little until you realize there are 12 items of equipment, plus a bag, you need to track down.
4: Have a little laugh when your husband says “jock strap” for your 4yo and ask, “Do they make them that small?” They do.
5: Have a moment of panic when you ask what the cou/neck guard is for and ask, “Is that to keep his neck warm?” as if he’s curling up with a cup of tea and a good book and then your husband explains, “No, it’s so his neck doesn’t get slashed by a skate.”
6: Between hand-me-downs, Canadian Tire, and five sellers on FB Marketplace, you locate all 12 items of equipment and feel like, at this point, you could probably track down the Holy Grail.
7: Try everything on your 4yo and see his excitement, as he instinctually hits his helmeted head with his hockey-gloved hands. See the happiness flood your husband’s eyes as he says, “Maybe he will really love it.” And when he starts to dream and asks, “Have you ever seen the home movies of Wayne Gretzky playing hockey on a lake near his house when he was 3yo?” you must try to keep a neutral face and simply reply with, “No, can’t say I came across those. Maybe you can show me?”
8: Go to the first practice and observe as your husband puts all the equipment on your 4yo, writing down the order, which should be logical but all you see are 12 pieces of equipment coming out of a bag and it’s. just. a. lot.
9: Watch the first practice, which goes well until he starts to get tired and then he has an itch on his face he can’t reach because of the helmet grill and FREAKS OUT and you’re trying to poke your fingers in the grill to find the itch but he’s moving and FREAKING OUT so much until you find the itch and scratch it! And hockey can resume.
10: The next week it’s your turn to take him to practice (panic in the locker room when you CAN’T FIND YOUR NOTES, HOW WILL YOU DRESS HIM??? oh there they are whew), which also means being the parent on the ice. At this age every kid has a parent on the ice, and you wonder how it came to be that you are skating around with a hockey stick in your hands doing hockey drills.
Good luck! Go get ‘em! Yay hockey!
Equipment order:
– [x] t-shirt/socks
– [x] 1 jock strap – bought FB (note: they have little velcro things you use to attach the hockey socks and hold them up)
– [x] 2 jambieres (shin+knee) – bought FB
– [x] 3 hockey socks – THEY SUPPLY
– [x] 4 culottes (pants) – bought FB
– [x] 5 skates – already own
– [x] 6 plastron (chest+shoulders) – hand-me-down
– [x] 7 coudes (elbow) – bought CT
– [x] 8 cou (neck guard) – bought CT
– [x] 9 hockey jersey – THEY SUPPLY
– [x] 10 casque (helmet) – bought FB
– [x] 11 gants (gloves) – found FB
– [x] 12 hockey stick – hand-me-down
– [x] hockey bag – search house for big bag because I am not buying anything else
Education is one of the best things about life. There is always something to learn. Once I had kids, I learned (see what I mean?!) that 99.99% of parenting is teaching – how to crawl and then walk, eat healthy and when to splurge, share and in general not be a jerk, say please and thank you, etc., etc., etc.
So I began to develop my own curriculum, which I want to share with you. I am (probably a little too) proud to present my first course.
Course: Music 101
Prerequisite: Be born
Required Materials: Compact Discs (CDs) in a binder + CD player
Optional: CDs do not have to be alphabetized, but if you’re a Virgo like me, you probably can’t help it
The course begins by placing the CD binder in front of the child and asking the child to flip through the pages to choose a CD.
As they flip through, hold up a CD and explain to the child, “This round object is a magical disc that contains music. You see this shiny side? Once you put it in this machine [make a grand gesture towards CD player], the machine has a laser that plays the music that is encoded on the shiny side of the CD.”
If you feel your child is advanced, you can add: “As the disc rotates, the laser beam measures differences in the way light is reflected off the polycarbonate layer on the bottom of the disc, converting it to sound.” (Thank you, http://www.techtarget.com, but also how crazy is it that someone figured that out?)
You can give a brief explanation about album artwork, and if the child doesn’t flip too fast, you can point out your favorites. The child will most likely not inquire on why they are your favorites but you can tell them anyway (unless the child is in the “Why?” stage of life, in which case they will ask you “Why?” so often, you will wish you had never pointed out your favorites).
My little girl was a toddler when she began this course. At that time, if you asked her what her favorite color was she would tell you, “Rainbow!” So it is no surprise that the first CD she chose was Mariah Carey’s album of the same name. We started with the first track “Heartbreaker,” which led to an important conversation about heartbreakers and how to avoid them. It was also a moment for me to shine during Jay-Z’s rap when I remembered all the words, impressing both myself and my daughter.
Now my little boy was much younger, just a baby, when Music 101 came into his life. To my great delight, his chubby little baby hand reached for Aerosmith’s Get a Grip album, and I began to expound on my great love for this band. As we made our way through…
“Eat the Rich”…”Livin’ on the Edge”…”Cryin'”…”Crazy”…”Amazing”
…he seemed to lose focus as I yelled over the music, “CAN YOU BELIEVE ALL OF THESE PHENOMENAL SONGS WERE ON ONE ALBUM?!” Then I realized the only reason my breastfeeding baby picked this CD was because he wanted the nipples.
Important Notes:
This can be a daily or weekly course.
If your CD binder is in alphabetical order, the child will need further guidance to keep it that way.
Do not let the child use the CD player, especially if it holds multiple discs. It’s way too much to process and will be covered in a future course. Also, the weird sound it makes when rotating the CDs might scare the baby.
At this time, do not mention how CDs can be scratched nor should you show the child a streaming service like Spotify, YouTube Music, Apple Music, etc. They must first develop an appreciation for the magical disc!
Bonus: Hands-on learning experience
Step 1: Zip the binder so that it’s closed for easy transport (like when you were headed to your car back in olden times and wanted your music with you…or current times if you’re like me).
Step 2: Place the binder in front of the child and have the child drag the CD binder a distance of ten feet so that they may appreciate the burden they no longer carry.
Important Notes:
Child should be able to crawl before trying this hands-on learning experience.
My CD binder holds 200 CDs, so my baby boy could not move it. At first I thought he was being a lazy baby, but then I realized it was just too heavy. So find a smaller CD binder, if necessary, or give the baby some slack.
Dragging distance should be increased as the child ages.
I have to face the fact that, in some ways, the digital age has brought easier access to music even if it means the downfall of the magical disc. But to really drive the point home, I like to conclude Music 101 with a lecture on what it was like to go buy a CD:
~ feeling the excitement as you drove to Sam Goody, the day of the CD release was especially cool because you might see other fans (and maybe you even pre-ordered your copy so you knew it was safely waiting for you)
~ examining the album artwork (and hoping lyrics would be printed inside)
~ listening to the album in the order the artist intended from start to finish (and choosing early favorites)…you can still do this on a streaming service but it seems like our attention spans have shrunk and we just jump to the next thing too quickly
~ finding a place for it on your CD tower (if alphabetized, then you would need a good 20 minutes to move each CD row by row unless you just bought The Wallflowers, which wouldn’t be so bad)
Unfortunately, missing out on this experience is a burden they will have to carry.
Note: The word “tiny” will be overused in this piece of writing.
I had seen fairy garden kits in the stores, so when Annette suggested we make a fairy garden, that’s what I was picturing. She arrived at my home and clarified the situation – we were going to buy a few things but mostly use items found in nature. No kit for us.
To get started, we would need real estate. We bought an oval, galvanized tub, punched some holes in the bottom for drainage and filled it with dirt. It was placed under a large shrub for protection from the elements.
For the house, one worthy of a fairy, we would need an interesting plastic bottle. In our case, an orange juice bottle. We cut a rectangle for the front door (just big enough for a fairy to walk or fly through) and then cut some squares where we thought a fairy would want tiny windows – two side windows and a window above the front door.
Then everything came to a screeching halt when Annette discovered I did not own a hot glue gun. After the shock wore off, we went to buy one.
Upon return, we glued wire mesh on the inside of the bottle for the side windows (screens, of course, in case there are rogue fairies about who would want to break-in). We glued a piece of aluminum foil to the inside of the front window for a reflection effect.
The birch tree in my backyard provided building material. The branches that never matured and fell to the ground proved to be just what she was looking for. She was also thrilled by the potential of the white bark for the siding of the fairy house.
“And the ROOF!” I over-enthusiastically suggested.
“Oh no, the roof will be made of moss,” she replied.
I then realized I was in over my head and probably not as crafty as my mom.
She wanted to make a chair that would go inside the fairy house. This is what she made (approx. two inches tall):
This confirmed that I was definitely not as crafty as my mom. I was in love with this tiny chair and was immediately jealous of the fairy that would get to sit on it.
We put a layer of rocks inside the plastic-bottle-soon-to-be-home-to-a-fairy. Then we tiled the floor with a piece of birch bark.
We looked up what time the sun would go to sleep and set the little string of lights to turn on around then, and then placed the string of lights inside the house. Afterwards, the fairy chair found a cozy home in the corner.
“What more could this fairy ask for?” I pondered.
We began work on the siding, using carefully selected pieces of birch bark. Once glued, we tied string around the bottle to hold the bark in place while it dried.
Then it was time for the roof.
Annette: “We need moss.”
Me: “I can’t remember the last time I saw any moss.”
Annette: “We’ll find it, and then we need to carefully scrape it so that it doesn’t fall apart.”
We took the kids for a walk and, lo and behold, found moss within a few minutes. I talked to it (I know…bear with me) as we gently ripped it from its home, “I know this hurts, but you’re going to help us make a fairy house. Wait until you see the chair.” Ever since we made this fairy house two years ago, I’m always looking for moss and making a mental note when I see it as if I am constructing countless fairy houses.
The moss was ever-so-carefully glued to an aluminum foil pie pan, which was then glued to the cap on the top of the plastic bottle. Lots of gluing and holding in place while they dried and then re-gluing because we thought they were dry and let go but they weren’t dry so we held them for even longer the second time. We used this time to settle on the name for our fairy.
Meadow Moonlight
While on our walk, we had also discovered this, to which Annette said, “Well, this is obviously a tiny chimney.”
“Of course it is,” I replied.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but they can also be glued to the outside of a fairy house to reinforce and decorate.
We also added a tiny window frame to the front window by crossing and gluing two sticks together:
Note: Smooth black stones make cute window shutters. Note #2: Look at that charming reflection effect from the aluminum foil.
Then we turned over a plastic container (for mushrooms, in this case…not the psychedelic kind just the ones you find at the grocery) and glued the bottom of the plastic-bottle-almost-home-to-a-fairy to it. This is to elevate the fairy house from the dirt and keep it from flooding.
Then we made a few things for Meadow to add to her fairy garden+house once she moved in:
-tiny feather bed (note: if your fairy prefers a firm surface, glue three sticks together for the frame)
-tiny ladder for home repairs
-tiny clothesline for fairy clothes
-tiny but charming front door
Notes were written on tiny pieces of paper to introduce Meadow Moonlight to the children – rolled up like tiny scrolls and placed inside shells because that seemed like one way a fairy might deliver a note.
Then we left it for them to discover.
We went to a garden center and found tiny plants for Meadow’s garden (not pictured, unfortunately, but just imagine cute, tiny plants in the soil of the oval, galvanized tub). Over time, Meadow added her bed, ladder, clothesline, pretty stones, and then some.
I said “we” throughout this piece, but it’s really Annette’s fairy garden+house. I just did as I was told and watched in awe as it came together.
When we finished, we gathered more birch bark and sticks for her to take home so that she can make more fairy houses with her grandchildren. Unfortunately, her box of supplies was discovered in her car by the US border agent and the conversation went something like this:
Agent: “What’s all this stuff for?”
Annette: “For fairy houses.”
Agent: “Houses?”
Annette: “Yeah, for fairies.”
He had to confiscate them, but at least he didn’t lock her up in the loony bin.
Thank you, Mom, for your beautiful creativity – I never would have made this alone and loved watching your vision come to life.
coming full circle 