DAILY SNACK
It was Nana’s birthday yesterday.
So C asks, “Do you think it’s time for cake yet?’
“Not yet. Let’s wait until everyone’s finished their dinner.”
And he patiently waited.
He ran around and around and “read” a comic book.
He played with this truck and that car.
Until the last person took their last bite of dinner,
And laid down their fork.
“Hey. So . . . would you like to have some cake now?”
He didn’t skip a beat.
Do you remember? Do you remember a time when people would ask, what’s a blog? And it was explained that they were “web logs” and really just, like, a public diary or a notebook on a certain theme. I wondered, back then, why people kept blogs. Often, it was a good way to keep far-flung friends and family in the loop. Communities sprung up around blogs, too, and people began to connect over shared interests and experiences. Okay, I guess I can see that, I thought, but it still sounds like a whole lot of work.
That’s probably because I’ve always viewed writing as a skill, a talent, a means of communicating real thought and ideas, and a sell-able commodity or service. I’ve never used writing for therapeutic purposes or kept a personal journal (for more than a week at a time). I’m a crummy pen pal, too. I get hung up is my problem. I notice syntax and worry about sounding cliched and write slowly and deliberately. It was after the birth of my first baby, when I thought I might like to pitch some story ideas to parenting magazines and realized that every person with a kid and an english degree had the same idea, that my husband first suggested I start a blog. What the? Huh? Why would I want to do that? Blogs don’t pay.
DAILY SNACK
She was sitting on the floor,
Gumming a rattle and looking around the room.
He came tearing in wearing a foam turtle shell on his back,
And a plastic Ninja Turtle mask over his face.
She was rapt.
He then lifted the mask onto the top of his head,
Revealing his grinning face.
And she laughed like you have never seen a baby laugh before.
Yes, life is good.
But someone get this woman a tripod. For heavan’s sake! I’m sorry.
Just in case you haven’t noticed, I love my city, and I love, love, love my neighbourhood. It is a thriving, bustling, vibrant area filled with parks and schools, stores and restaurants. The Junction also rubs up against Bloor West Village and Roncesvalles Village; two other happening ‘hoods. There is one problem, though, with so many young families, so many children, living and shopping and playing here, energizing these neighbourhoods. It’s not cheap to live in such a wonderful urban setting, and the parents of these families need to work. But there is no daycare! I mean, sure, there’s some. Two-year wait lists are standard, though, and most parents are left scrambling at the end of a one-year maternity/parental leave. The demand is such that one new daycare that opened had the gall to charge over 50% more than the citywide standard for quality daycare. Because they can. The solution is obvious. We need more daycares.
We piled into the car last Saturday afternoon and drove toward the lake. We then drove right on past the beaches and boardwalks and picnic areas and pulled into a massive parking lot. To the outside observer it would seem that we were visiting the set of a post-apocalyptic movie, all concrete and aging white domes sprawled out along 96 acres of industrial harbour. But we are old school Toronto people and knew this was Ontario Place, “an internationally acclaimed cultural, leisure and entertainment parkland.” We’d been coming here looking for summer-time fun every now and again over the years and were about to visit for the first time as a young family. And, well, it was some sort of media day and Ed had scored us free passes.
DAILY SNACK
He ran in from the backyard,
Kitchen door slamming behind him.
“Hey, Mom!”
I guess I didn’t really hear him at first.
“Hey!!! MOOOOOMMM!!!!”
“Yes?”
“Did you hear the news?!
There’s ants crawling on a plate outside.”
A little birdie with insider contacts in the provincial government tells me that there is still some hope for the full day kindergarten plans. “Not totally dead,” were the birdie’s words. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if the province can scramble it together.
And don’t worry. I’ll keep you posted.
DAILY SNACK
Just now.
I sat L’il I on the floor
Beside her brother and in front of the tv.
Yeah, that’s right.
Then she fell forward and all I heard was,
THWACK!!
Baby head against hardwood.
Then the crying.
Every once in a while you find something that is enjoyable for both you and your children and good for them, too. And if you can actually enjoy it in your own home without having to shell out for “an educational program that’s fun for the whole family,” then all the better, right? Imagine if said activity could also be done with the kids tucked into their beds and then send them sweetly off into the night. Perfect.