When I look back on Christmas 2011, it will probably be remembered as the last time A believed in Santa.  Over the past few weeks we’ve had a number of conversations about the existence of Santa (the word on the playground is the fat man’s a fraud) and I was pretty sure he had crossed over into the world of non-believers.  His skepticism disappeared over the last couple of days, though, and he was totally into the on-line Santa tracker and putting out the traditional milk and cookies.

Morning came much too early, as it always does on Christmas Day.  We managed to delay the inevitable rush to the presents by about half an hour, but eventually we ran out of negotiating ploys and capitulated.

The boys seemed happy with their matching Sens jersey. They also got tickets to the Sens game on January 8th – it will be a nice way to celebrate the last day of Christmas vacation.

K showing off the snowman he got from his brother, courtesy of the school’s Christmas shop.

B and the boys working on a 1,000-piece puzzle (this scene of familial bliss lasted about 4 minutes in total before A & K went off to play with Lego).

It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of turkey dinners.  However, I tried something new this year and roasted it in the Big Green Egg.  The verdict?  Blah.

K and I went for a walk with his favourite gift, a penguin pillow pet.  Midway through our trek to the RCMP stables he took a break to have a nap on a snowbank (yes, we had a white Christmas after all).

Coal spent most of the day sleeping on the couch.  It’s probably wishful thinking that the boys would follow his example one of these days.

The day ended with a bit of Beatles Rockband.  I visited 22 different stores trying to find a second guitar controller for the Wii (including a depressing visit to a pawn shop on Christmas Eve) but came up empty.  If you come across one of these relics from the Guitar Hero craze of 2008, give me a shout.

Mornings can be hard sometimes.  You wake up cranky, and the last thing you want to do is make lunches, make breakfast, fetch your kids some clean socks out of the dryer, sign the permission form for the school field trip, etc.

I was having one of those mornings recently, and to top it off, neither of the boys was listening to a word I said.  I finally snapped and launched into a fairly heated lecture about respect and paying attention, complete with, “Wipe that smile off your face!” and, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

A went upstairs, head bowed, and I could hear him crying in his room.  After a few minutes passed, I went up and apologized for losing my temper.  He muttered, “It’s O.K.” and went back to his room.  He came back a few minutes later and handed me the following letter:

to:  Mom and dad
From:  A

dear mom and dad,

I love you both very much and I exept your apology dad.  I hope we can make up to each other by you walking me to my door.  That way we will be able to co-oporate together and set things right.

Sencierly,

A

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

And suddenly my day was a bit brighter…

Hallowe’en used to be a kinder, gentler time.  The boys and their friends dressed up like kittens, princes and cowboys.  We’d go door-to-door for a little while and then head home before it was dark.  It was all about being cute, not scary.

The Dearloves circa 2006.

Oh how things have changed…

This year, the boys picked out their own Hallowe’en costumes.  A decided to be a blue ninja, complete with dual curved blades with hooks that would rip your opponent’s guts out.  K decided to be a zombie hockey player wielding a bloody butcher knife.

That photo doesn’t really do K’s mask justice.  Here’s one with a bit more detail.

Yes, that’s a pucked lodged in his skull, with blood and brain matter emerging from the gaping wound.  Given all the talk about hockey concussions and long-term brain damage in the sport, we were uneasy with his choice but ultimately let him wear it to school.  And there goes our chance to win Parents of the Year…

We went on an epic walk through the neighbourhood this time around.  After nearly 90 minutes and with around 15 pounds of candy straining the seams of their loot bags, A & K reluctantly agreed to head home.  We were greeted by a vision in pink carrying a black cat – very chic.

The night ended like it does every year – with a giant pile of candy and the boys sorting it into the essential food groups (chips, chocolate bars, suckers, gummies, and rockets).  After they’re asleep, we’ll steal a few of our favourites from the stash and hope they don’t notice.

After spending a beautiful day in Montreal with the boys last October, B and I decided to return for a slightly longer visit over the Thanksgiving weekend.  Just like last year, the weather was beautiful, and we had a great time exploring a city that I wish I knew better.

We spent Saturday afternoon walking through Old Montreal.  We did the tourist thing and rented a quadracycle to ride along the waterfront.  K enjoyed his perch in the “King of the World” position, and A demanded the opportunity to steer.  Fortunately those things are limited to a top speed of 4 km/h, so we were never in any danger of inflicting harm on the many families in our path.

As the sun began to set, we started looking for a place to have supper.  While I had visions of us dining at Toqué or Au Pied du Cochon, I knew the boys wouldn’t last five seconds.  So, I lowered my expectations and suggested…St. Hubert.

You know what?  It was fine.  A roving magician did some tricks for the boys to entertain them, and it’s pretty hard to screw up rotisserie chicken.

On the way back to the hotel, we strolled down Sainte-Catherine.  The boys played with an art installation outside Place des Arts that involved aiming giant spotlights into the night sky – tons of fun.  A was a little curious about the sign that read “Nude Dancers” and the bikini-clad superheroes at Club Super Sexe, but it didn’t lead to anything too awkward.

The boys woke me up early on Sunday morning.  We let B sleep in and took the subway to find some bagels.  I couldn’t help but notice the odd juxtaposition of ads for adult and kid entertainment – somebody has a sense of humour.

Once at the Plateau we hit up both Fairmont and Saint-Viateur for our bagel fix.  We also stopped at Fabergé for a decent breakfast – it’s a nice place, and while we were the only ones there when it opened, I’m sure it fills up with hipsters and their beautiful kids later in the morning.

Our visit concluded with a visit to the Biodome.  I had heard great things about it from friends, and we weren’t disappointed.  The big aquariums were cool, and obviously K got a kick out of seeing the penguins.  The live birds-of-prey demonstration was also a hit (although seeing the great horned owl was a little traumatic).

Pengui meets his southern relatives.

After living in Ottawa for 13 years, I feel bad that I haven’t been to Montreal more often.  I feel like I only have a superficial relationship with the city – maybe someday I’ll get the chance to move beyond our infrequent, all-too-short hook-ups to something more meaningful.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything about music, so I thought I’d share a few thoughts about people and songs I heard over the past seven days.

First up was last Saturday’s annual fund-raising gala, with special guest Sarah McLachlan.  I definitely went through a Sarah phase back in the early 90′s – Solace was in my regular rotation, acting as an emotional amplifier when I wanted to wallow in self-pity.  B had also tried to convince me that Ice Cream should be our wedding song, and while part of me liked it because I was pretty sure I could master a simple waltz-step, I ultimately vetoed it because of the somewhat depressing chorus “It’s a long way down to the place where we started from”.

Hearing Sarah perform live was a pleasant surprise.  She sang extremely well, perfectly in tune, and she has more vocal chops than I thought she did (including a beautiful upper register).  She’s got a new set of orchestral charts, and I’m sure she could keep herself busy for the next year if she wanted to doing the orchestra pops circuit.  She also looked stunning, with fabulously toned arms, and had an engaging stage presence.  All around, a really good performance.

(I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that Pinchas and the orchestra sounded great in the first half.  The black-tie crowd ate up the clapping bit during the Radetzky March).

The next day, it was time for something completely different.  I took the boys to the Blacksheep Inn up in Wakefield to hear a solo set by JP Hoe.  JP is a talented singer-songwriter from Winnipeg who was one of our favourite musicians at the last Scene festival.  He recently finished a new album and has a couple of important showcases coming up, and I hope it all leads to some new opportunities – he’s a great talent with a bright future.

On Tuesday, I picked up Dan Mangan’s new album Oh Fortune.  Dan was my favourite singer-songwriter during BC Scene two years ago, and since then his career has really taken off.  He was named Artist of the Year at the 2009 Verge Music Awards, was shortlisted for the 2010 Polaris Music Prize for Nice, Nice, Very Nice, and has been touring virtually non-stop.

It’s been interesting to watch the lead-up to the album launch by an artist on the rise.  There was the CBC Radio 3 broadcast of the whole album performed live, Dan was Jian’s guest on Q, and new performance clips were released on Dan’s website every few days.  All the hard work is paying off – the album is getting lots of attention, and he’s headlining at much larger venues (including a gig at the 2,800-seat Orpheum in his home town of Vancouver).  I look forward to catching his Ottawa show on October 14th at the Bronson Centre.  Tickets are available here.

Finally, I just got around to listening to some Elbow (yes, I know I’m a few years late on this one).  I’ve grown very fond of Lippy Kids – it’s one of those songs on first listen that takes you by surprise and puts a grin on your face as the melody unfolds.  Lead singer Guy Garvey has a wonderful voice that draws frequent comparisons to Peter Gabriel, which is never a bad thing.