tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55287601055715069512024-03-05T06:03:55.314-08:00House Full of PicklesWhy a house full of pickles, you ask?
When we were officially a couple, soon to be <br>
wed, our close friends started to combine our surnames - one Gillis, one Perkins, and you
get Gerkins. Over the year we resisted being
named after tiny pickled cucumbers, but
eventually, these things stick.
And now we are three.Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-18547349515042479112010-10-13T16:25:00.000-07:002010-10-13T16:26:36.705-07:00Owen's most favourite pastime these days (unless it's his trains) is singing. He likes to sing and he likes to be sung too. He is regularly increasing his repertoire! We have:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Old Macdonald</span> (Ee-yiiii-yo, Moo, moo, moo.)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Row, Row, Row Your Boat</span> (woah, woah, woah... boat... melon, melon, melon... deem)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Twinkle, Twinkle</span> (Kinko, kinko, how-a, uppa, kinko)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Theme song to Cat in the Hat</span> (Go, go go! 'ventahh)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Frere Jacques</span> (Shocka, shocka, tina, tina, din, dan, dong)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Thank-You song from church this Sunday</span> (ank-you, ank-you)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Baa Baa Black Sheep </span>(Baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa, baa)<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Tidy Up song from daycare </span>(Tiiiee-up, diiee-up)<br /><br />He also likes us to sing the Owenized version of "Good Morning" from Singin' in the Rain, and, if walking in the rain, either "Singin' in the Rain" itself or "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head".<br /><br />He will say "Mnahmnahmnah" so that John or I will sing "Doo-doo-da-doo-doo."<br /><br />He can also recite large portions of many of his books (in a sort of very minimal paraphrase, of course) and the plot of Wallace and Gromit in "A Close Shave" (Dog! Sheep! Cha-chine! Truck! Bike! Ladder! Cha-chine! Bang Bang! Oh no! Dog! Sheep!)<br /><br />In short, I have never met anyone half as adorable.Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-11491001208983227872010-09-13T08:21:00.001-07:002010-09-13T08:38:55.412-07:00Oh my beautiful baby.... big boyOwen continues to be a marvel. And obviously one who keeps us hopping. We're so busy being real parents that the blogbaby stays neglected. <br /><br />Still, let me take a few minutes to tell you about what we're up to these days. <br /><br />Owen's language skills continue to impress. I couldn’t even begin to tally them up - he learns new ones every day. He’s started to make two word sentances: “Do it” “Get it” “Have it” are favourites. He likes to say thank you and is working on please. He’s starting to identify who is doing things (“Daddy shower”) and show the faintest glimmerings of understanding the past and cause and effect. He can count reliably to two and often to three (and nine often comes next.) He is absolutely fascinated by names and often remembers what people are called after meeting them only briefly. He’ll ask to play with little friends days after we spend time with them. <br /><br />He is thinking about colours and shapes. He definitely thinks about how things move (around, roll, run, etc.) He’s not that excited about the stroller - “Walk!” he cries, but still gets strapped in for longer walks (because he’s still pretty slow and definitely distractable). He loves to sing and he loves to dance. He loves to invite (order) people to play with him, dragging them over with a chubby fist wrapped around a big person’s finger. He lives to be outside (ouh-shiiiide!) and to play at the playground. <br /><br />We encountered a robot in a video the other day, and that’s a frequent topic of conversation these days, except he calls them “blobots” which is adorable. He can also tell you about aliens, octopuses, starfish, butterflies, and submarines. No word is too much challenge. <br /><br />He eats with a spoon and sometimes a fork (and fingers when it’s faster.) He knows what he wants to eat and when. He’s recently learned to say when he’s hungry (“huggy!”) which I think makes him feel pretty powerful, though he still tends to ask for “supper” instead. <br /><br />He received a bonus teddy bear from his great aunt on Saturday (it magically arrived in the mailbox while we were out) and he is now very attached to it. It had to come down with us to breakfast today, though he did not ask to take it to daycare. If it turns out this tie-died Beanie Buddy becomes his ‘lovie’ we may be in trouble. What’s the resale on those things, anyway?<br /><br />He’s starting to transition to the toddler room at daycare, and let me tell you, he’s more than ready. He’ll be making a switch to a new centre in November - it’s halfway between where I work and where John does and will make pickup and drop-off a little more equitable (also stroller-able and even bus-able).<br /><br />I’m about to start a fall class tomorrow, so life with us will be back to the new routine of work and daycare and nights were Mummy doesn’t come home until after bedtime. It will take a few weeks, but we’ll adjust. <br /><br />We’re starting to experiment with finally cutting out the last few nursings, but the problem with keeping it up until toddlerhood is that they suddenly have opinions about it. Still, I’m ready to have a body that’s mine again - more than two years is a long time to share. <br /><br />I am starting to think about Halloween, and our December trip to Winnipeg for a wedding and some grandparental time, and Christmas presents, for heaven’s sake (I think we’re going to need a bigger house). In that vein I’ve updated the wish list in the sidebar and will probably continue to pop things on there as he shows an interest. (In case you’re on the VERY small list of people who should be getting things for him.)Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-81855738699554799542010-07-08T09:30:00.000-07:002010-07-08T09:42:13.257-07:00VocabularyOwen is a chatterbox - this is indisputable. <br />I have been periodically charting his words, as you know, but since the last time I updated, his vocabulary has completely exploded. We are talking some 90 words, plus a bunch of sounds he uses to identify animals, trains, fans, etc. <br />The words below are all ones he says without prompting. I'm not sure I even have them all! He doesn't pronounce perfectly, and it's entirely possible no one but me understands what they are, but WOW man, Wow. <br /><table frame=box rules=all><tr><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Verbs</span><br />nurse<br />poke<br />cuddle<br />touch<br />bite<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Adjectives</span><br />better<br />dirty<br />wet<br />dry<br />more<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Prepositions</span><br />that<br />up<br />down<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Food</span><br />milk<br />yogurt<br />cracker<br />bread<br />banana<br />apple<br />strawberry<br />asparagus<br />water<br />snack<br />noodle<br />tomato<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Body Parts</span><br />nose<br />eye<br />mouth<br />teeth<br />bum<br />knee<br />toes<br />belly<br />bellybutton<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Vehicles</span><br />car<br />truck<br />bus<br />bike<br />boat<br /></td></tr><tr><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Animals</span><br />cat<br />dog<br />mouse<br />hippo<br />crocodile<br />aligator<br />bird<br />bug<br />rooster<br />animals<br />duck<br />bear<br />whale<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Toys</span><br />block<br />playground<br />ball<br />sandbox<br />bubble<br />bath<br />guitar<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Other</span><br />Mess<br />Mop<br />done<br />box<br />bag<br />chair<br />spoon<br />bowl<br />plate<br />door<br />window<br />cup<br />bottle<br />shoes<br />sock<br />top<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">Phrases</span><br />bye-bye<br />hi!<br />let's go<br />here you go<br />night-night<br />all done<br />ta<br />thank you<br />oh-oh<br />no <br />yeah<br /></td><td valign=top><span style="font-weight:bold;">People</span><br />Mama<br />Dada/Daddy<br />Baby<br />Granddad (Danda)<br />Mamgu (Mummum or sometimes gee)<br />Grandpa (Danba)<br /></td></tr></table>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-46827231937084069842010-06-30T06:08:00.000-07:002010-06-30T06:16:22.305-07:00RemissWhat can I say? Life gets in the way. I guess I'm not cut out for Mommy-Blogging, what with work and school and mommying itself. <br /><br />Owen continues to grow and thrive. Since last I wrote he's had tubes placed in his ears, taken off to see his Granddad, Great Granddad, and a raft of Great Aunts and Great Uncles, not to mention cousins galore, over in the UK. <br /><br />He likes to play outside in the sun, riding our 'biiii(ke)', playing in the "bah-boh" (sandbox) and abusing Mummy's plants. He runs and dances and plays air guitar. He'll try any word you throw at him, including submarine and helicopter. He likes to point out trees, steps, doors, grass, dogs, cats, buses, and especially bikes and motorbikes, which are both 'biiiiii!', except that motorbikes are followed up with 'a-ruuummmrrruuumrrrum.'<br /><br />Owen is generally an easygoing, happy, friendly chatterbox. Though there are days, like last weekend, where four molars on the move plus a rotten headcold make it a lot harder to get through the day. He saves all his angst for when he's home alone with Mummy and Daddy so that's something. <br /><br />I'm finally done my course for this summer - the longest six weeks I've lived in a long time! - and so we'll have so much more time for having fun together. <br /><br />I'll leave you for now with Owen's recent school picture. If you'd like more photographic Owen from recent months, come visit us at <a href="http://flickr.com/photos/rhia">Flickr!</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4074/4746294961_6065a8547b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 348px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4074/4746294961_6065a8547b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-16165604184830819042010-04-20T05:54:00.000-07:002010-04-20T05:59:21.466-07:00In lieu of a real post - Owen's words at April 20, 2010Hi!<br />Ball <br />Mama <br />Dada<br />Look (doo!)<br />Done / All Done<br />Down (also means up)<br />More (mo-mo, with sign)<br />Nurse (nuh?)<br />oh-oh<br />Dat? (what's that?)<br />Banana (usually nana, but he got the ba in there last night)<br />ta (thank-you but mostly a sound for giving things to us or asking for them back)<br />toes (does)<br />Shoes (doos)<br />book<br />No (no-no?, with head shake. Often said while doing something he shouldn't)<br />Bottle (ba-ba, ba-ble)<br />Cup (baba, ba, bup)<br />door<br />dog<br />bowl (basket, bucket, etc.)<br />box/block (baah)<br />baby<br />go (doh)<br />apple (bap-boo)<br />woof (uff)<br />food/eat (nam-nam)<br />spoon (boo)<br />stuck (duh!)<br />touch (duh - reaching)<br />flower (loh-loh)<br /><br />Onomatopoeia:<br />meow<br />wuff<br />elephant sound<br />tweet tweet<br />brrrrrmmmmm<br />wooohhhhh (vaccum cleaner, big truck)<br />pock-pock-pock (fish sound)<br />ahm! (give me a bite!)Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-17711822534583744582010-04-12T06:48:00.000-07:002010-04-12T06:49:46.141-07:00Lots of little videos<object width="400" height="300" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154326695431" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154326695431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><object width="400" height="300" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154332110431" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154332110431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="400" height="300" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154329555431" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154329555431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="400" height="300" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154323785431" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154323785431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="400" height="300" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154322540431" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/10150154322540431" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="300"></embed></object>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-52553012444088002432010-03-24T09:26:00.000-07:002010-03-24T09:28:24.467-07:00Word ListA lot of these words are only discernibly different in context. You'd be surprised how quickly you learn to hear the minute differences. These are roughly in the order that we are certain that he is definitely associating a sound with something.<br /><br />Mama<br />Dada<br />hi!<br />dog (doh!)<br />cat (tattat!)<br />meow (wa-ow) (he was meowing at the picture of the cat on the bag of cat treats this afternoon)<br />woof (uff)<br />bottle (baba)<br />sheep (ba-ba)<br />oh-oh<br />what's that? (dat?)<br />door (doh-oh)<br />ball (boohhh)<br />book (bah/buh)<br />banana (nanana)<br />toes (dohs!)<br />ta (thank you - or really more like I am handing this to you please hand it back now)<br />milk (mum)<br />baby (ba)<br />cup (bap/bop)<br />all done (aa duh, duh, aaa)<br />go (doh!)<br />eye (possibly this is still just hi)<br />down (doh)<br />more (mo) (very seldom says)<br />apple? (bub-bub)<br />yogurt? (oh-oo)<br /><br />Other sounds that mean something:<br />bleaah! (John taught him this when he was eating stuff off the carpet and now he does it to be funny)<br />Mem (I do not know what this means, but he says it with great conviction.)<br />bwow<br />blom/blum<br /><br /><br />He is also big on mimicking sounds / words when we say them, though he won't necessarily remember these for the next time. <br /><br />Other big things of late, walking, running, climbing the stairs, trying to climb into the bath, climbing over people on the floor, holding the phone to his ear and saying "hi! hi!", throwing food out of the high chair, hiding remotes, nearly turning ONE oh my goodness!<br /><br />A big real post will have to commemorate that - promise!Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-67363149479754321092010-02-16T09:44:00.000-08:002010-02-16T09:45:33.345-08:00Philosophizing and Updating and LovingSo yes, hello...<br /><br />Turns out we're not fabulous parent-bloggers. Good intentions out the window when you have a sleepless, busy child, I guess. <br /><br />Owen has, however, become a gem. He's such a happy, funny little boy these days. <br /><br />He's walking, as we showed you in our hasty video post. He can't get up if he's in the middle of a room, but give him a wall or furniture or person to pull up on, and he's off to the races, padding his way down the hallway to see who's in the kitchen, carrying the contents of the kitchen (Tupperware, pot lids, tomato paste, whatever's handy) off to his toy box. <br /><br />He's talking, maybe, or at least making sounds that sound a lot more like words. Mama, he says, often when he means me. Dada, likewise, for John. "Dog," he says when he's at his Mamgu's and hanging out with Bella the Jack Russel/Chihuahua, "Dog". Most other animals are "baa," especially the sheep kind. He's said cat, once or twice, when he's mislabelled Pumpkin as a baa or a dog. "Nam nam nam" means he's hungry, or enjoying his meal. There's a "baaaaw" sound for balls, and a "buuuhh" sound for books, but mostly everything is ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, so maybe we read too much into it. Was that a "banana" we just heard?<br /><br />He started daycare in January, and has had a mild case of the plague ever since, a cold that turned into an ear infection that turned into a croupy sort of thing that turned into "that damn ear infection still hasn't gone away." We're finishing up our third course of antibiotics. We've retired the inhalers. He seems happy enough, but do his ears still itch? Do we have to make a hard decision about tubes? We'll know on Monday, I guess. <br /><br />There are six pointy, sharp little teeth now, and a brand-new stream of drool that might indicate more are on the way. He sleeps five hours in a row, most nights, sometimes six, though not usually the same ones we like to sleep. He's getting better and we can see the light at the end of that tunnel. <br /><br />He likes to make jokes, initiate peek-a-boo, feed us bites of whatever he's eating. He's in all the drawers and cupboards, testing, throwing, rearranging. Toys that make noise are the very best, and he shakes his head along with every rattle. He's starting to dance along with music, a little hand wavy bouncing thing. He understands more words than he lets on, I think, especially the kind that are "no." <br /><br />He's ten and a half months old, already. In six weeks he'll have been around for a whole year. It's hard to imagine life before he was, but all the same, being back at work makes it hard to reconcile now with before. There's no more stopping on Barrington Street for a pint on the way home. No more spur of the moment decisions to see a movie on a Friday evening. Any evenings out take special orchestration. Is it worth it? Yes, oh, yes. Is it still weird? Again, yes. <br /><br />The best thing of all, though, is the end of the working day, this little face full of love and smiles. <br /><br /><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2764/4314184245_8dff81caeb.jpg">Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-83206414877713306632010-01-22T14:46:00.000-08:002010-01-22T14:48:22.751-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre-wrap; "><div>Owen's becoming a little more confident and adventurous when it comes to walking. Check this out (or see here: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: normal; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "><a href="http://bit.ly/5HJVAw" class="tweet-url web" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-decoration: underline; color: rgb(85, 93, 216); ">http://bit.ly/5HJVAw</a>)</span></div><div><br /></div><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=3437d39c18&photo_id=4296488786"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=3437d39c18&photo_id=4296488786" height="300" width="400"></embed></object></span>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-27830397161808886322010-01-20T15:12:00.000-08:002010-01-20T15:17:01.087-08:00An eventful week.So last Wednesday I was home with Owen, as is my wont, now I'm back at work. My dentist is in the same building I work in, so one of my colleagues watched him.<br /><br />Thursday, I was involved in my first-ever Ministerial briefing at work - exciting, and good for the career, but nerve-wracking, not least because it started late and ran later. Luckily it was not a daycare day, so Owen just enjoyed more time with my Mum.<br /><br />Thursday overnight he developed a fever... Seemed OK in the morning so we left him with Mum again, where he grew steadily more miserable through the day. When I got home from work he was pretty inconsolable, so off to the doctor's office for us. Ear infection.<br /><br />Saturday... we managed to exchange our tickets to see the Metropolitan Opera's Carmen at the movies... and stayed home with a sick babe. Sunday, similar, but without the exchange.<br /><br />Monday and Tuesday Owen was back to himself. He even napped at daycare!<br /><br />Overnight he slept four hours, then six, a new world record. And he even put himself back to sleep when it turned out I hadn't quite managed it after his midnight feed.<br /><br />Today he had a super-long morning nap, and then, shortly after I got him up and nursed him, planning to try some real lunch and head out to Mom's group, the house started to smell like smoke. I investigated the kitchen. Stove off, toaster cool. I looked down the basement stairs but it seemed ok. The smoke detector wasn't going off. Checked upstairs, nothing there either. The smell was getting stronger and the kitchen starting to get hazy. Strapped Owen into the highchair and checked out the basement for real. <br /><br />Thoughts going through my head... we'd had some furnace trouble around Christmas - had something else gone wrong? And if something was on fire... we were supposed to have already been gone to Mom's group. Thank heavens we still had the chance to call if we needed help. <br /><br />Hazy as hell down there. Up the stairs, grabbed the snowsuit, calling John, dressing baby. The neighbour appears at the fence. Pass her the baby and go searching for the cat while John calls 911. By the time I have the cat out the firefighters have arrived next door.<br /><br />They set an oven mitt on fire while running the self-clean cycle on their oven. Everything is quickly under control. Three friendly and cute firefighters set up a giant fan to blow smoke out of my house, though the basement is a lost cause, having no windows. John arrives. The cat is deposited back upstairs. The firefighters leave. John goes back to work. We go to Mom's group.<br /><br />We get home, and the ween naps another two hours. Take his temperature when he's up and he's warm again. Call telehealth. Suggest we take him in tomorrow. Try to give him dinner. Not interested. Take him upstairs to play for a while, then he nurses. Then he chokes on snot and projectile vomits all over me and him and the nursery. <br /><br />I give up. Some day off. <br /><br />In other news, current possible words:<br /><br />Dada (definitely a word, but usable for any parent)<br />Mama (a word, but not a frequent one. sometimes used for mama, sometimes just for things he wants, or food)<br />Baa Baa (said in response to pictures of sheep)<br />Tiss (possibly kiss?)<br />Num, Num (yummy!)<br />Hi (that is Haaaaaaaaaai, like he's from the deep south. Though he's not saying that much now he's got waving down.)<br /><br />Clapping!Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-46845631902417540402010-01-10T09:24:00.000-08:002010-01-10T09:25:11.257-08:00We owe you a Christmas post!But look!!<br /><br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a1b315930c&photo_id=4262911156"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a1b315930c&photo_id=4262911156" height="300" width="400"></embed></object>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-82865187600748277002009-12-24T05:43:00.001-08:002009-12-24T06:00:53.014-08:00A year-end letterWe expected 2009 to bring many changes. We were “expecting,” as they say. But the unexpected snuck up and surprised us, as is its nature. <p class="MsoNormal">So at the end of the year, not only are we parents, but I’ve left one career for another.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think I’ve cried more this year than in the last 25 (most recently when Tiny Tim died in The Muppet Christmas Carol), but in the year-end tally, the happy tears outnumber the sad ones.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHGmVQFhDvq3Zx3P3OtKMWrEi9SmOudZ_Gzax3nEblX0ggruO8BcROewBzE2OeTtY2auM_qc-weNTLT1naR1_D3FD_dZkAscJPG9sqbf48hbLubjmbQXLdomgfTNOi5LwVcF40hjw_Jc/s1600-h/3415250717_798906c29f.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHGmVQFhDvq3Zx3P3OtKMWrEi9SmOudZ_Gzax3nEblX0ggruO8BcROewBzE2OeTtY2auM_qc-weNTLT1naR1_D3FD_dZkAscJPG9sqbf48hbLubjmbQXLdomgfTNOi5LwVcF40hjw_Jc/s320/3415250717_798906c29f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418798935109544994" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">2009 was the Year of Owen, or at least the first Year of Owen. Although he was expected and eagerly awaited, I was well aware I really didn’t know what caring for a baby or being a dad were all about. And Owen managed to surprise us right off the bat by coming about two weeks before his due date.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Labour and delivery, again not what had been hoped for, but a miracle nonetheless. I’ve never been more awed by a person than I was by Rhia that rainy April night (and I touched Wayne Gretzky one time).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">And there was our beautiful little baby. When we met him, it turned out he was not an Angus (Gus, for short), although we’d been pretty sure that’s who he would be.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everyone comments on his blue eyes, his round head, his fine hair, which appears either golden blonde or red, depending on the light. It seems at once such a long time ago and only a moment ago he was brand new. And he’s become a new little person every couple weeks for the past nearly-nine months. Throughout he’s been curious and good-natured, friendly to strangers, a flirt. Never a great sleeper, but better these days. And we’re better able to muddle through the days on little sleep ourselves. He loves to laugh and knows how to make us laugh</p> <p class="MsoNormal">He’ll have about three and a half front teeth for Christmas (along with mountains of presents from admirers) and will be walking sooner rather than later. He likes to chatter and sing. He’ll go, “Ohhhh, ohhhhhhh,” when he finds something interesting and “AH AH AH,” (repeating our admonishments) when he’s attempting to play with something he knows isn’t for babies. “Dig dig dig,” is another favourite expression. It’s possible that when he says, “Mamama,” and “Dadada,” he’s referring to Rhia and I, but the jury’s still out.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">He wears us down sometimes, with his short attention span and need for constant entertainment, or when he sometimes goes from peaceful rest to demonic screams when you try to set him in the crib. There’s the odd moment we consider selling him to gypsies. But more often than not, when we’ve got him down to sleep, washed the dishes, folded the laundry, taken out the garbage and collapsed on the couch, Rhia and I find ourselves looking at photos of him. We miss him, even when he’s just upstairs.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve found there’s nothing more rewarding than the grin that spreads across Owen’s face when I come home from work. Rhia will return to her job at the beginning of January. She’s looking forward to the work and some adult company through the day, but dreading leaving Owen behind. I’m hoping that smile will make the transition less traumatic.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Being a father—I couldn’t quite say what it’s like. But with it comes a deepened empathy. I’d say I was a fairly sensitive person before, but somehow you feel things a little more deeply. So, following the terrible news of the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Cape</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Breton</st1:placename></st1:place> boy who got lost in the woods and later died was painful. I was consumed with thoughts of how scared this boy must have been. Even fictional things, sentimental or otherwise, get me. Rhia and I laughed at each other when we realized we were both sobbing at the opening scene of Star Trek, in which Capt. Kirk (Sr.) bravely meets his end while his son is born in another part of the galaxy. And then there was Tiny Tim. Such a sweet, big-hearted little frog. It just wasn’t fair.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Owen’s arrival came just two weeks after my career as a newspaperman sputtered to an end. I left The Chronicle Herald in mid-March, but that end came after an excruciating month-and-a-half long purging of the newsroom. A lot of people got laid off, not a shock in the newspaper industry. But until then, The Herald had been the kind of place where people could bank on spending their whole careers, if they wanted to. And I’d been pretty content with that idea myself.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">I loved the job. I really loved the job. I was good at it. I worked with good people. They were paying me to do what I enjoyed and that pay was enough to cover the bills. But everything went unimaginably sour in an instant. Those good people—all great journalists—weren’t considered as such by the bean counters. Their ledger indicated they had to sell $2.5 million worth of ads (that’s 6,000 sofas for ad-buyers) to support each newsroom position. Sofa sales were down, so a bunch of journalists had to go. The weeding out was extremely random and unpleasant. While the work continued, the job that I loved had already disappeared. So I took advantage of a buyout offer and quit, before they could shove me out the door.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With Owen’s appearance so soon after, the upshot was that I moved on without batting an eye and got to spend four months at home with my family with full pay from my ex-employers. It was a better deal than the parental leave. I could not have planned it any better if I’d tried.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just as that well was about to run dry and my EI application was making its way through the channels, another opportunity came my way. And now I find myself the media relations advisor for Capital Health. In plain language, I’m the spokesman for an 11,000-person outfit that operates 10 hospitals and a raft of other services. It’s challenging and exciting. My predecessor, still a colleague, did a great job showing me the ropes. I’ve had the good fortune to be able to pick the brains of the two people who were in the role before him as well. Just as I was beginning to feel I knew what I was doing the second wave of H1N1 arrived in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Nova Scotia</st1:state></st1:place> and our whole team was going full throttle.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And it’s been a pleasure to get to know the people on that team, folks I knew mainly as voices on the other end of the phone when I was a reporter. When I was stepping into this role, there were lots of jokes flying about joining the Dark Side. But I assure you none of these folks are cape-wearing Sith lords or conniving spin doctors. They’re a compassionate group of folks who like to laugh. The best part of the job switch has been expanding my group of friends to include these new colleagues.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I also get to keep in close touch with former colleagues, both with my professional hat on and over the occasional pint in old hangouts.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">People ask me all the time if I miss being a reporter. I have to say, no. The major factor is that immediately after the job ended I had Owen to focus all of my attention every day. And truth be told, in the days leading up to that official end, I spent much more time moping about it than actually doing my job. I was probably a miserable person to be around. Sorry. It’s the people I would have missed and I still see a lot of them. I had a good six-year run at a big daily paper. I loved the rush of it, but on reflection, I was losing motivation and it was a good time to move on. That part of my life seems a long’ long time ago, in a different world. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We’ve been lucky this year to have lots of good visits with and from family and friends. A number of visits with Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt Heather, both here and in <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Winnipeg</st1:place></st1:city>, although I know they mind the time between as he continues to grow and change. Uncle Anthony and Aunt Kim and lots of friends in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Calgary</st1:city></st1:place>. Katie and Gord here. The Dunns in <st1:city st="on">Moncton</st1:city>, <st1:city st="on">Eden</st1:city>, Michael and Izzy in <st1:city st="on">Ottawa</st1:city>, all kinds of folks in <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Cape</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Breton</st1:placename></st1:place>…Owen’s a pretty seasoned traveler already</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmxm6zX51sQVXJkG6podt9vuvDtS2qS2DgLc3Hr8DP_d1RezoupZKS-Plt1uYXtnRB-bM70mncLjjX6KfArFgwq1HCbrE6wPxEzB55rkrgHT3zmJ7oTX70mUC_jdRrZaBrrmhCsmJ5jw/s1600-h/skyeglen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmxm6zX51sQVXJkG6podt9vuvDtS2qS2DgLc3Hr8DP_d1RezoupZKS-Plt1uYXtnRB-bM70mncLjjX6KfArFgwq1HCbrE6wPxEzB55rkrgHT3zmJ7oTX70mUC_jdRrZaBrrmhCsmJ5jw/s320/skyeglen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418800228145645586" border="0" /></a></p>Another pleasant surprise in this new role: I have a good stretch of time off over Christmas. I’d be years away from that kind of holiday break in my former role. I’m looking forward to spending a lot of time with my little family in our little house. <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Rhia and I plan to spend New Year’s Eve having dinner at our favourite little neighbourhood restaurant with dear friends (Owen will be home with Mamgu). It will be a quiet, happy end to an eventful year.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I stopped in that same restaurant two blocks from home this morning to pick up a coffee and, unexpectedly, ran into friends currently living in <st1:country-region st="on">Australia</st1:country-region> and <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Winnipeg</st1:place></st1:city>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It’s a small world. And a happy one, despite rough times that seem to have no end. I’m heading into 2010 full of hope and a sense of wonder. I see it brimming in Owen’s eyes and feel it in busy hands he’s still figuring out how to use.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">May your Christmas and the New Year also be full of hope, peace, joy and love.</p>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-84865245775914663822009-12-22T16:04:00.000-08:002009-12-22T17:12:30.691-08:00New tricks!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzudiodZT6O0ILDWICv60F5gMntdf34aGQ_NGeesnhWcZDGVUVpIjIc0zHIPbyqB5XprByEDw3QkzeN6jTB3xFEzF30XKMt0CkAwj2Td02r4PX_LuI3SfPWhnK65YVPlTPMNMOrD1OM8o/s1600-h/december+2009+024.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzudiodZT6O0ILDWICv60F5gMntdf34aGQ_NGeesnhWcZDGVUVpIjIc0zHIPbyqB5XprByEDw3QkzeN6jTB3xFEzF30XKMt0CkAwj2Td02r4PX_LuI3SfPWhnK65YVPlTPMNMOrD1OM8o/s320/december+2009+024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418230538903110818" /></a><br />Owen is turning into a more interesting little person every day.<div>The other day, when he was scheming ways to get into the dishwasher, I was debating whether he's smarter than a monkey. I couldn't decide. There must be a point in life at which you become smarter than a monkey, but I don't know what the threshold is.</div><div>Here are a couple new entries in the Possibly-Smarter-Than-A-Monkey column:</div><div>Owen now initiates peek-a-boo himself and gets a big charge out of it. He plays both the version in which he holds a bib up over his eyes so that we "can't see him," and then dramatical</div><div>ly drops it with a look of great glee in his eyes, and the version in which he actually hides behind something and then creeps back into view. He's done it with the bannister on the stairs and the other morning when I was sitting at the table in the kitchen, he hung out behind the chair and then slowly crept into view and tapped me on the knee. Creep back behind chair. Repeat.</div><div>He really chortles at the big moment of surprise.</div><div>For a while, he's been into the drawers on the buffet (the ones that have linens in them, not the "AH AH AH!" ones). He likes to play Drawer Goes In, Drawer Goes Out and he really loves to pull dishcloths and towels and napkins out and fling them on the floor. Owen also enjoys poking around the cupboard with flour and sugar and noodles in it. Today he pulled out a package of pad thai noodles and put them in the drawer. That was the first time he'd actually put something IN something else. The he took the noodles out of the drawer and looked them over and put them back in the drawer again!</div><div>That's a milestone folks.</div><div>Always exciting new things in this household.</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtqUwIwG7M57ZepFW-zFP_HUn9tmpHV2GbKF1zD66TEq4vgmiKJxEOuTgYmII8l-7u0CXiYHc0X9OXsSOVSXHVhuTEKT1VPuRJbrtkW_2q6Sum-NUScKlaugcdDTxoQ1u0qCCiyuJBXQ/s320/december+2009+058.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418230859173038770" /><div><br /></div><div>Another first: on Monday, Owen met this strangely-dressed fellow in the shopping centre.</div><div>Yep, soon to be first Christmas with Owen. He already has a mountain of presents and there have been a couple to open. Favourite gift so far, some shiny foil paper. Until he tore a bit off it and tried to swallow it, that is.</div><div><br /></div><div>It should be an exciting week. I think that man from the mall might come for a visit.</div><div>Merry Christmas everyone!</div>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-72207191554643708452009-12-14T05:33:00.000-08:002009-12-14T05:39:36.677-08:00Ah ah ah!!So Owen is not much for responding to "No!" but will at least stop and look if you give him a loud Ah-ah-ah! <br /><br />So we do a lot of "Ah-ah-ah! The laundry room is not for babies! Come back in the kitchen please." Or "Ah-ah-ah! Don't play in that cupboard." Or "Ah-ah-ah! No cords, please."<br /><br />And after a few repetitions he'll usually move on to something he is allowed to do. <br /><br />But the past day or two, the rotter has started to play with things he's NOT supposed to, all the while going "Aaaa aaaaa aaaa."<br /><br />When he's interested in something (oh, something pretty like the Christmas tree, or our laptops, or a particular page in a book, or a new library book) he says "Ohhhh! Oh. Ohhhh!"<br /><br />Also, on Friday, he figured out how to climb the stairs. He's a scary scary marvel!Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-40143855817881075242009-12-06T17:02:00.000-08:002009-12-06T18:33:44.206-08:00Videospam PostStrollin'<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a96d5c2593&photo_id=4161411284"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=a96d5c2593&photo_id=4161411284" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />Laughing in Calgary<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=cbf4d767da&photo_id=4160693965"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=cbf4d767da&photo_id=4160693965" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />A-wa-wa-wa<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=4ec35221af&photo_id=4160660557"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=4ec35221af&photo_id=4160660557" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />Crawling<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=655695ec6f&photo_id=4161358130"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=655695ec6f&photo_id=4161358130" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />And now, presenting a Christmas present, opened early. (too lazy to rotate video)<br /><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"> <param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=5ed62be57a&photo_id=4164307265"></param> <param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377"></param> <param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"></param> <param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&photo_secret=5ed62be57a&photo_id=4164307265" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><br /><br />(<a href="http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.com">House Full of Pickles</a>)Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-21793400196526459162009-12-02T05:18:00.000-08:002009-12-02T05:28:28.208-08:00Amazing BabyFor all his not sleeping, Owen continues to be adorable.<br />John gets up with him in the morning at whatever hour between 6 and 7ish he cannot be put back to sleep. They hang out down in the kitchen, one or both of them has breakfast, then John pops O in the crib with some toys while he goes to shower. The babe will play contentedly for a few minutes, but before the water's turned off he's usually calling for someone to go get him. This morning, when I went in, he was standing at the crib rail whining, but I came in the room, and he BEAMED at me and started bouncing. I asked if he wanted to get up and he extended one chubby hand to me happily. Up he came, and planted a big soggy kiss on my chin. <br />This is what it's about. <br /><br />Other things he does that are incredible and got missed in the last post.<br /><br />He's still a big reader and pulls all his books off the shelf several times a day. If you read to him, he likes to be the one to turn the pages - usually in the right direction, but sometimes he likes to go back to favourite pictures - and has developed a real fondness for touchy-feely and lift-the-flap books. He tends to over-love the flaps if left to his own devices, though.<br /><br />Other fave objects? Shoes, slippers, paper, cardboard, remote controls, bowls, gross things, the cat bowl.<br /><br />He was determined to crawl off the edge of things like the step to our front foyer and the bed, so we've been working on climbing off backwards, and he's really starting to get the hang of it! We're also working on rooms he's not allowed to go into (well, just one, the laundry room off the kitchen.) So he'll crawl right up to the doorframe and mama will go Ah-ah-ah, and he'll stop and sit back down on his bum and think for a while. He might try two or six times, but eventually he'll come back into the kitchen to do something else. <br /><br />He's so interested in walking, he pushes around the kitchen chairs and these faux-leather, foam-stuffed ottomans we have. He can make fairly good distance.<br /><br />He's a maniac from drinking from cups - sometimes his sippys, but he really prefers to drink from a grownup's. We let him make a mess when it's water, but it does make drinking juice, coffee, pop, beer or whatever a bit more complicated. <br /><br />Right now he is playing mostly under a kitchen chair, repeatedly banging his head in the process. It doesn't seem to bother him, but perhaps I should rescue for the sake of the headache that will ensue!Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-88469124992863668892009-11-27T14:32:00.000-08:002009-11-27T14:58:25.323-08:00The November that just wouldn't stop!Hello everyone and sorry we've been away so long!<br /><br />Owen had a blast on Halloween! We trick-or-treated three whole houses! Mom and dad had to perform thorough quality control on the candy, though... Then it was off to dreamland with our little wild thing while the candy got distributed. <br /><br />Shortly after that Owen and I took a trip out to Calgary for Owen to finally meet his Uncle Anthony and Aunty Kim! Mamgu joined us on the flight, and O was a jewel, but it made for a long day!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVF2861xI/AAAAAAAAAd8/UcjPojnLsaM/s1600/All+of+Owen+1577.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVF2861xI/AAAAAAAAAd8/UcjPojnLsaM/s320/All+of+Owen+1577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916711610701586" border="0"></a><br /><br />He was a hit at the Perkins house, though!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGFY24FI/AAAAAAAAAeE/LFuVJlsFMoQ/s1600/All+of+Owen+1583.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGFY24FI/AAAAAAAAAeE/LFuVJlsFMoQ/s320/All+of+Owen+1583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916715485978706" border="0"></a><br /><br />We visited the giant, Alberta-sized mall in Balzac, had Dim Sum in Chinatown, hung out with lots of monkeys, poked Owen with foam tubes, and all the good stuff one tends to do on family visits. I even got to hang out with some university friends and their offspring - including my friend C's four month old - Owen! <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGdA4QaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/f-9SD_Hn6bY/s1600/All+of+Owen+1590.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBVGdA4QaI/AAAAAAAAAeM/f-9SD_Hn6bY/s320/All+of+Owen+1590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408916721827856802" border="0"></a><br /><br />We took the red-eye home, which worked quite well in terms of him getting some sleep - we were even able to take the car seat on the plane, which worked well, though it was hard to get down the aisle and I probably shouldn't have installed it rear-facing. Lessons learned! <br /><br />On our return, we were lucky enough to have a week-long visit with Owen's honorary aunt Katherine! We wore frog coats (Owen) and drank beer in the afternoon (the grown-ups). We wandered the heck out of the city! We were darned cute!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBWRkRwIuI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gwvNzUjAIt8/s1600/10959_337782955692_732225692_9776274_1408118_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SxBWRkRwIuI/AAAAAAAAAeU/gwvNzUjAIt8/s320/10959_337782955692_732225692_9776274_1408118_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408918012267864802" border="0"></a><br /><br />Developmentally, Owen's sprouted a couple of teeth! True to form, he's opted to do things his own way and get the top ones first. They're nearly all the way out now and they look pretty good, though it's hard to get a picture! <br /><br />He crawls blazingly fast now, often making trails down the hallway to greet Daddy at the front door when he comes home. Not content with just babyish mobility, though, he pulls himself up to standing as soon as he gets there these days. He's walking along the furniture, and pulling up on every single thing he can get a grip on, from chairs to stairs. <br /><br />He's still experimenting with solid food, and isn't all that sold on the concept. We got him a shiny new high chair this week, though, so hopefully that will help! <br /><br />Here he is scaling those new hights, and having a conversation with the Queen. <br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyYg4khqIa192DuNHkfDaYqNnuu9h4rSSjoylEQxWWA9BdfbkMN4TJ6fRwnkaAvPL-ChvMxJw_duhhHS6VyMA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />We'll report back next week when he reaches eight months old and receives a visit from his Winnipeg grandparents!<br /><br />(if you're reading on Facebook, visit <a href="http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.net">for the video and pix!</a>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-86841751136410426682009-11-24T06:50:00.000-08:002009-11-24T07:43:40.337-08:00Tiny update!Big things around here! Crawling, standing, proto-walking, teeth!<br /><br />This morning I spent half an hour trying to get Owen down for a nap, only to have him dissolve into tears as soon as I put him in his crib. After this half-hour I am exhausted with the process, so, deeming him safe enough in there, I go off to take a much-needed shower. When I get out, there is silence, so I tiptoe towards his room, daring to believe he's actually cried it out. <br /><br />What do I discover? Little mister standing up, holding on to the side of the crib, patiently waiting for me to return. Woe. Funny though. <br /><br />I was going to upload some videos but I need to edit them down to a manageable size first. Flickr isn't up to date either. The internet is harder with a mobile baby.Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-18369607507667475222009-10-30T15:59:00.004-07:002009-10-30T16:23:13.320-07:00Mobility!Owen has been right on the verge of crawling since early September when we were visiting Grandpa, Grandma and Aunt Heather in Winnipeg. He had the arm part but not the legs, or the legs and not the arms, or he'd forget to pick his belly up off the floor.<div>It has frustrated him to no end that he can't just go.</div><div>By last week, he was managing to scrabble and roll his way around, covering a lot of ground, but without much sense of direction.</div><div>Then on Wednesday night, on the carpet upstairs and in his birthday suit, he crawled!</div><div>He was enjoying some naked bum time. I turned on the tap to start running his bath and Owen got excited and just crawled down the hall toward the bathroom. That was a special treat on a day Daddy's brain was completely fried from all things H1N1.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxiRTKjv3PJPw2DLrqMEvC75qbGZ_78fohqTHPKsLdrvA_kFjy0EotiDpklxTWMwrXUTUqd8G5znNJoRWySxQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><div><br /></div><div>It's still a little laboured, but he's pretty pleased with his new skill. If he's on the floor and you take your eye off him, there's no telling where he'll be when you look back.</div><div><br /></div><div>Owen also went to a Hallowe'en party this week with some of his wee friends. He was Max from Where the Wild Things Are. I can't get over how cute he looked:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutnPLlhvOGpNGbTvCRiOIDNzdi76fiGW_xZDTCNCk_Ns5syIAQVKe0L16vEkgji4ZbolHuI5l1_K1Z2uE6pME7y_CIEh6ys-60Ye6ic6_HoFFKIObC7udUVnCRc3WdlnyhaTyBJwRA5g/s1600-h/october+2009+057.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhutnPLlhvOGpNGbTvCRiOIDNzdi76fiGW_xZDTCNCk_Ns5syIAQVKe0L16vEkgji4ZbolHuI5l1_K1Z2uE6pME7y_CIEh6ys-60Ye6ic6_HoFFKIObC7udUVnCRc3WdlnyhaTyBJwRA5g/s320/october+2009+057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398535258836995250" /></a></div><div>Maybe, Owen's enthusiasm for crawling is also contributing to his new napping ability. It used to be he would rarely nap for much more than half an hour. It seemed he didn't want to miss anything in the run of a day. This week he's had some relative marathons, including one of nearly three hours. A blessing for Rhia as I've been putting in some long hours at work this week.</div><div><br /></div><div>On that note, I think I've run out of steam this Friday night.</div>Johnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08577648577974312505noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-86070749887044353052009-10-18T16:28:00.000-07:002009-10-18T16:33:36.324-07:00Promises Kept - Cute Baby StorySo!<br /><br />Owen is trying to start on solid foods. He's interested in food, but not really that interested in being fed, and doesn't have a pincer grip to pick up small bits of food (and hasn't figured out chewing, either). <br /><br />Anyway, sometimes I let him lick the food I'm eating - you know, fruit, bread, that sort of thing.<br /><br />So at supper tonight, John and I were eating our chicken and veggies, and Owen was in his Bumbo on the table, playing with a rattle and watching. And I gave him a few near-microscopic bits of chicken to taste while I was working on my meal.<br /><br />And when I'd finished cutting all the meat I could off the bone, I picked it up to finish eating. Owen was staring and making sounds like he wanted more chicken, so I pulled off a few more tiny bits, and tried to put them in his mouth and he roared. So I stopped offering, and went back to my food. But he kept staring and making the sounds, but roaring when I tried to give him his own bits. <br /><br />So I offered the bone to him and he reached out to grab it with great enthusiasm. <br /><br />Unfortunately it was a breast piece, so not suitable, but we did end up letting him suck on a well-cleaned-of-meat thigh bone from John's plate for a minute or two, to his delight. <br /><br />My crazy baby...Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-70154357968281479002009-10-16T10:05:00.000-07:002009-10-16T10:46:24.637-07:00Six Months Come and Gone<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StixV4F1jRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EBUeQf_8zjo/s1600-h/3978520428_7d0754c309_o.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StixV4F1jRI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EBUeQf_8zjo/s320/3978520428_7d0754c309_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393255543168404754" /></a><br />Mr. Tiny Gillis weighed in today at 27.5 inches tall and 19.6 lbs, with a head circumferance of 17.7 in. He weathered his 6 month shots with considerable aplomb, and would like to let you know, loudly, that he still cannot crawl. <br /><br />Because that's what we've been working on the past few weeks. Sitting up has been mastered and is now old hat. And Owen can roll himself over his feet into a hands and knees position, or pull up into one from his belly. And there he stays, rocking, until he gets tired and flops back onto his belly.<br /><br />Alternatively he rocks there, or pushes himself backwards with his arms, and screams and screams at the unfairness of it all. Interesting days. One memorable day, with the help of the laundry basket and the TV stand, he managed to pull himself to standing, a treat he usually only enjoys when there are grownups around to help him get up. <br /><br />He'll take a delighted few steps though, fat baby fingers holding on to grown up ones and chortles of delight escaping. <br /><br />He's started a bit on solid foods, too, though he's not all that interested most days. He had one or two meals he ate with gusto, but has mostly resisted the spoon. We're not pushing too hard, though he needs to get some iron into him one of these days. We've got a baby-safe feeder and has more fun feeding himself, so that may be the route we'll go for the meantime. <br /><br />John and I are doing really well also - the Mr. has hit his stride with Capital Health, impressing the heck out of everyone, as is his wont! He isn't very good at leaving his work at work though. :) <br /><br />I'm back at school this semester, taking one class that meets two evenings a week. I just handed in my first assignment and I have to admit that sleep deprivation and mommy brain made buckling down to work harder than usual, and I've never been great at that one. My mom's been great though, taking the baby out so I can have an hour or two to concentrate. Here's hoping it will be OK. I have a month before the next one is due, so hopefully I can get myself together. <br /><br />We travelled to Cape Breton for the Thanksgiving weekend and had a good time seeing the colours. Owen found the car trip a little long to be cooped up in a car seat, but he was great if we took a stop or two to look at the wide world. And in a few weeks he and I are heading to Calgary so he can see his Aunty Kim and Uncle Anthony. Then a visit from our dear friend Katie on our return. Fall is shaping up to be exciting. <br /><br />I'm going to make a special effort to log in more often with fun stories about Mr. Cutie Pants for you in the future, instead of these statistics-filled missives. He's not much of a napper (or a sleeper, these days) so it's a challenge, but I think it's one worth undertaking.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StipkAdTQzI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FeBEKfWm870/s1600-h/pullup.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/StipkAdTQzI/AAAAAAAAAdU/FeBEKfWm870/s320/pullup.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393246989839450930" /></a>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-58353154822514000712009-10-13T06:35:00.000-07:002009-10-13T07:08:19.859-07:00A musical interludeSerious update to follow once Mama's paper is turned in!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxM8x4-z3zceApzNNm55gLcK1rjwgJAfpAIONiPFA2lQjtT_YLHRDvtKby15G2mL3rDTX269kIhKnZuKHBtww' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />http://housefullofpickles.blogspot.comRhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-28953607820109105012009-10-02T07:50:00.000-07:002009-10-02T08:10:44.724-07:00Half-Year UpdateOwen is taking an unexpected bonus nap, so I'll take this opportunity to catch up with you all!<br /><br />I guess most salient is that our little O-Doggie is one of those babies who's very reluctant to sleep through the night, and worse at napping. If he's in the car, he may nap two hours, but on your average day it's 40 minutes to exactly one hour in the morning and catch-as-catch-can in the afternoon. I am not desperate enough to stroll the neighbourhood for an hour every day to get that afternoon nap in, but let me tell you I'm getting close. <br /><br />All the sleep experts say "sleep begets sleep" and so perhaps getting those naps to be a little longer will be the key to longer stretches at night, but right now we're talking one four hour stretch most nights and then threes and twos until he decides it's time to get up at six (we hope.) I guess he needs to start eating more during the day so he'll want less at night, but trying to convince him of this (either by not feeding at night or by offering more during the day) seems futile at present. <br /><br />Some say that six months is a magic time for sleep training, so our fingers are crossed. <br /><br />In less whiny news, O's a little man on the go. He's been sitting up really solidly for over a month now, and while there's still a tumble or two every day, he sits and plays for 15 minutes or so at a time quite contentedly a lot of the time. Mama likes!<br /><br />He's been thinking about crawling for a while, but took a break earlier this month to work on some babbling. For a while he was all "ba! bla! Bla! da da da da!" but he seems to have moved on to gurgling and "goo!" these days. <br /><br />He's still happiest on his feet, prefers the jolly jumper to the exersaucer, but likes most of all if someone will take him by the hands and let him practice walking all over the house. You heard me right! Six months old and he's already on the stroll. He's started to try to pull himself up on people's clothes, the laundry basket and the like too. Good thing his head's still a bit heavy for him to balance well or I could say goodbye to my ability to do other things while I play with him. <br /><br />Yesterday my sister Sarah and I took him swimming for the first time, and while he was initially very apprehensive he had a ball! He likes being upright in the water and paddling on his tummy, but is still not sure about floating on his back. Maybe the water at Centennial is a little cold on his tiny ears. <br /><br />In early September we went out to Winnipeg to visit Owen's paternal grandparents, and had a great time. He's getting excited about his Aunty Heather's upcoming visit, as well as our plans to visit Uncle Anthony and Aunty Kim in Calgary in November. <br /><br />There are too many recent photos to post here, but again, drop in at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia">http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia</a> to see more than you probably need. And videos! I need to add a few more things today, even. <br /><br />We're starting to think about the holidays here at the pickle house... mostly because so many Christmas presents need to get in the mail, but also because my childproofing plans need to include the tree! Owen's letter to Santa is getting put together in the sidebar over to the right, so if you're one of those readers who might like some ideas, you know where to look. For more general inspiration, you can also take a peek at the "Stuff We Like" links. The more I hear about BPA and pthalates, the more plastic scares me, so much so that I'm phasing out our disposable / tupperware containers for glass ones, so forgive me if we come across as hippies with all our wooden toys. Sometimes it seems like the old fashioned stuff that was going out of favour when we were kids was a better idea. What can you do? In any case, Owen's favourite toys right now are a stainless steel bowl, and any paper he can get his hands on, so probably we could give him the boxes toys come in and call it a day. <br /><br />Kisses to all from the little man!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SsYX0BZF6OI/AAAAAAAAAc0/QSy6PlStH80/s1600-h/september+2009+028.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/SsYX0BZF6OI/AAAAAAAAAc0/QSy6PlStH80/s320/september+2009+028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388020186689693922" /></a>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-68580957590609518352009-08-20T15:49:00.000-07:002009-08-20T16:52:29.809-07:00Totally Crap at Blogging(If you're reading this from Facebook, click on through, there's video!)<br /><br />What with losing the luxury of having two at-home parents, typing has been thin on the ground around here. We're starting to have a sort of nap schedule, but so many things call to me when he finally goes to sleep - eat? sleep myself? sew? do laundry? read? read the internet? that the blog seems to always lose out. <br /><br />Owen is an exhausting bundle of fun these days. He sleeps reasonably well at night, most nights, but is an erratic napper, especially with the heat wave we've been experiencing. He's a bundle of energy, sitting up (tripodded and upright) with some success, rolling from his back to his side and tummy, swimming arms and legs, desperate to crawl. He loves to stand up, whether supported with your hands, leaning on furniture, in his jolly jumper, or in someone else's exersaucer (we're working on turning one up for ourselves.)<br /><br />We like to get out of the house, too. We go to a Mom's group every two weeks or so, where all the babies are within a few months of one another. We like to drop in at the nursing support group at <a href="http://www.nurtured.ca">Nurtured</a>, an awesome local baby store. Sometimes we go in to work, or on rainy days, to the mall. We walk the city lots of the time - when it's not blazing hot, Owen usually rides in his wrap, but lately we've been using more of the stroller. <br /><br />A week today we leave for a ten-day visit with Owen's Winnipeg friends and family. I know his grandparents are dying to get their hands on him again! Hopefully we'll manage an afternoon on the lake, though I hear it's been cool there of late. <br /><br />Anyway, the real reason for this post is some videos of cuteness. <br /><br />As ever, the photos are on <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rhia">flickr.</a><br /><br />Jolly Jumper<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dybHcEgD9amdWLWsEpNdi3ZfJ3p0JvQav_1W-R84PtvwM7WlHqlNRt8IFX2f5ssX3t1QnV8yYTMZpsSNsZ_aw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br />Laughter<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy0uy3eN9gJSuScKbqNr3ful-KcX6Zb7neSGqL-xUAMSwyZub83oD2eOU_4gAcbAtqNaTbiABk4TFnM-iz1' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5528760105571506951.post-43911289652719899702009-08-03T17:21:00.001-07:002009-08-03T17:22:06.504-07:00Happy Four Months, Owen!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Snd_I4kwzWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cN7Di6fBFiE/s1600-h/Four+Months.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gJZB6GH5yks/Snd_I4kwzWI/AAAAAAAAAcU/cN7Di6fBFiE/s320/Four+Months.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365897271637495138" /></a>Rhiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17605238931175521127noreply@blogger.com0