Aside from the closure of the 401 on the way home, which caused a massive traffic jam and led to an unwelcome detour through the darkened back roads of Hastings county, it was a good visit.  Kyle and I got together on Saturday night – a rare brothers-night-out made even more special as it was also the 10th anniversary of our dad passing away.

Desmond’s birthday was a fun family get-together.  As the photos below show, he’s a really cute kid.  Like nearly every first birthday, there was a lot of talk about how quickly the year had gone by – looking at my boys, I still can’t believe they’ll be 8 and 6 in just a few weeks.

The cake was a perfect replica of the Man in the Yellow Hat’s yellow hat (banana cake, of course).

Desmond really liked hearing us sing “Happy Birthday”.

Nothing makes K happier than cupcakes and icing.

A is starting to look more like a teenager than a 7-year-old

Desmond making sure he doesn’t waste a crumb.

I think he likes it.

A was pretty excited about the whole thing, although he was also quite nonchalant about preparing for it.  He seemed confident about his chances, but I had my doubts – he’s a terrific reader, but he’s very much a fonetik speller.  I mean phonetic.

Due to a last second meeting with the corner office, I didn’t leave work until after the bee had started.  I raced (legally) to the school and got to the gym about 20 minutes late.  My heart sank a bit when I saw there were only five students left on stage, and A was nowhere to be found.  I had missed his big moment, a fact he would be sure to remind me of repeatedly for the next three to four years.

Fortunately, it was just the grade ones wrapping up their competition.  It was actually pretty thrilling stuff – spelling bees by their very nature are filled with tension and drama.  I was literally hanging on every letter as these cute little kids completed each round.  When one of the kids would insert a wrong letter, all the parents would let out a collective “awww”, followed by the judge’s bell.

After about 10 minutes of intense back and forth action, a grade one champion was crowned, and A took to the stage with about 20 other grade twos.  He slouched in his chair in the back row and waited his turn.

Round One

A’s first word was “mouth”.  He took a breath, repeated the word, and then spelled it correctly.  Yay.

Rounds Two and Three

His next word was “icing”.  Again, he got it right.  He got the next one right, too, to advance to round four.

Round Four

Having exhausted the words on the practice list, the teachers pulled out new words that the students hadn’t practiced.  A’s word was “seven”, which he spelled correctly.  A few students were eliminated in this round, and A advanced to round five with about seven other kids.

Round Five

A’s next word was “school”.  Oh oh, I thought, this one could be a challenge.  A closed his eyes, repeated the word, and in a quiet voice said, “s…c…h…”

Then he stopped and backed up from the microphone.  He shook his head, shrugged, and then began to walk back to his chair.

“Wait, A”, said the teacher, “you have 2 minutes to complete the word.  You’re doing great.”

A shrugged again and sat down.  The teacher walked over to him and they had a little conference.  There were murmurs throughout the crowd of parents and students – this was the most drama we’d seen in the competition so far, and I wasn’t surprised that my son was at the center of it.

A eventually walked back to the mic, closed his eyes again, and in the quietest, cutest voice, said, “s…c…h…o…o…l”. I was proud of him for sticking with it, and started to think he actually had a chance to win the whole thing.

And then the judge rang the bell, indicating he’d spelled the word incorrectly.  Apparently, at the very end of the word, he added an “e”.  I didn’t hear the final letter at the back of the gym, but the judge’s decision was final.

A slowly walked through the audience, exchanging high-fives with some of his friends.  His slumped shoulders, though, gave away his disappointment.  He finally made his way to me and burst into tears.  “It’s no fair,” he said, “they made me lose.  I was going to win and they ruined it.”  Sigh.

We spent the next fifteen minutes in the hall – he wanted to talk about how wrong the judge was, I wanted to talk about the meaning of sportsmanship and losing with grace.  He eventually ran out of steam and we headed back to the gym just as they were taking a break.  He made a bee line for the judge to state his case, and when I left, he was still huddled with her at the desk, trying in vain to get her to reverse the decision.

I’ll leave you with two of the greatest moments in spelling bee history…

In recent years, I’ve gone to Meech Lake many times, and have run into neither politicians nor nudists (nor nude politicians, for that matter). While I prefer the swimming at Lac Philippe and Lac la Peche, the trails at Meech Lake are easily accessible and extremely pretty, especially at this time of year. So, on a cool October morning, I decided to take the boys for a walk on the trail with the hope of making it to the ruins of Thomas Wilson’s carbide mill.

Alas, A and K did not share my enthusiasm for a walk through the woods. Within the first five minutes, concerns were raised about the temperature (too cold), the trail (too steep, too muddy), and potential dangers (wild animals, lava, etc). After considerable negotiation, I convinced them to at least do part of the trail and then we would reassess our plans.

We made it as far as the bridge where Meech Lake empties into Little Meech Lake. The boys were suitably impressed by the clear water and beautiful view, and we spent a bit of time scrambling over the rocks. That was as far as we made it, though – the mill will have to wait for the next hike. On the positive side, the boys did stand still long enough for a few nice photos.

A & K on their own little island. A said “This feels like home to me.”

A admiring the changing leaves across the lake.

It’s so hard to get them to actually stand still and smile together long enough to take a decent picture – this is my new favourite.

K has become pretty photogenic.

K doing his best Jack Benny impersonation.

King Mountain is a pretty good trail for younger kids.  There are a lot of stairs on the way up, but then you’re rewarded with great views of the Ottawa valley at the top.  Interpretative signs along the way also offer an educational element for the scientifically inclined.

One of my many critics has pointed out the scarcity of posts or photos about my wife on the blog.  I shall endeavour to be more inclusive in my posts about family events, and am pleased to offer a number of photos that prove B does, in fact, exist (and in a most beautiful way, I might add).

Enjoying the view from the top of King Mountain

B, A and K.  K is working on his winking – he’s getting there.

Me and B.  A took the photo, and with some cropping it turned out O.K.

Another photo by A.  K is trying to decide whether the stick will fit inside his nose.

K wanted the chance to take a picture too.  If I only had some Photoshop skills we might be able to put together an actual family portrait.

So, I was particularly sensitive to A’s situation over the past couple of months. When his cheek ballooned back in March, I thought he might have the mumps. It turned out he had a badly abscessed molar, and on further inspection, he had a number of cavities.

I sat with him at our regular dentist and watched helplessly as this large man spent 45 minutes trying to save the tooth before finally deciding it had to come out. After several needles and having his mouth pried open by multiple fingers, pliers, and suction tubes, A decided he had had enough and refused to open his mouth again. The dentist threw up his hands and said he couldn’t continue.

Fortunately, we were referred to Kids and Teens Dentistry, and we couldn’t be happier. The dentists and staff are completely focused on making the experience as kid-friendly as possible, and I only wish we had something like this when I was younger.

The mood is set as soon as you walk in the door of the funky, modular office. The décor is whimsical, there are Xbox games to play, and a movie room where kids can hang out. The dental suites have themes, and kids can watch movies on the ceiling and listen through headphones while work is getting done. When the visit is over, they get a token to put in the Treasure Tree and get a little knick-knack to take home.

For the extraction of A’s molar, they used conscious sedation, a combination of oral sedative and nitrous oxide. He was awake for the procedure, but completely zoned out, and he didn’t feel a thing. We’ve been back a couple of times, and despite the extensive work that has to be done, he genuinely gets excited about it.

If you’re looking for a dentist for your kids, or if your current dentist isn’t that great with children, I highly recommend you give Kids and Teens Dentistry a call. I know they have a long waiting list so you’ll probably have to wait a few months for an appointment, but it’s totally worthwhile.

I’m nearing the end of my second week of not going to work. Some people refer to that as a “vacation”, but I have some thoughts on that subject that I’ll save for later this week. All in all, it’s been a pretty busy time, with lots of time spent in the car traveling to exotic locales. To summarize, we:

- visited with Grandpa, Grandma, Lindsay, Riannon, and Meillyn in Ancaster

- attended my nephew Ian’s first birthday party in Kitchener

- watched a big boat travel excrutiatingly slowly through the Welland canal

- spent some time in Niagara-on-the-Lake and decided it would be a great place to live someday (which I consider some undefined future point, and which B considers tomorrow)

- enjoyed quick but meaningful visits with Evan, Ed, Cristina (x2), Patrick, Mark, and Miss

- took the GO train to Toronto and rode the subway

- checked out the dinosaurs and mummies at the ROM

- hiked to Webster’s and Tew’s falls

- went bowling, where I again failed to break 200, causing me to question the value of the 10 years of Saturday mornings I spent at the bowling alley in my youth

- picked fresh vegetables in Gerry and Claudette’s awesome garden

Rather than bore you with the details (if you’re not already there yet), here are a few pictures from the past couple of weeks.

My nephew Ian at his first birthday party. Just looking at this picture makes me start thinking that having a third boy wouldn’t be the end of the world.

A going all medieval at the ROM.

K playing with his Cars toy at his Cars table.

A is the picture of concentration as he tries to master the drum part to Weezer’s Buddy Holly.

]]> http://dearlove.ca/2008/08/20/back-to-our-regularly-scheduled-programming-2/feed/ 0 The Dearlove http://dearlove.ca/2008/08/03/this-is-why-we-dont-have-nice-things/ http://dearlove.ca/2008/08/03/this-is-why-we-dont-have-nice-things/#comments Sun, 03 Aug 2008 22:36:15 +0000 The Dearlove http://dearlovequartet.wordpress.com/?p=336 Continue reading →]]> B and I came home from our date night to find our remote control wasn’t working.  The power button was lit up, but it refused to do anything.  I tried a few different things to fix it, but nothing worked.  The cause of this sudden malfunction was a seemingly unsolvable mystery.

I spent about an hour this afternoon setting up the fancy new universal remote control – installing the software, checking for updates, entering the make and model of our modest collection of home entertainment devices, etc.  Towards the end of the tedious process, I mentioned to the boys that we’d have to be careful not to drop this remote as it could break.  This comment resulted in an interesting conversation…

A: “Yeah, I dropped the other remote lots of times.”

Me:  “Really?  When?

A:  “Last night, when Grandma was here”

Me:  “Why did you do that?”

A:  “Well, I wanted to see where the batteries go.  When I dropped it before the batteries came out, so I kept dropping it until they came out again.

Me:  “Wow, how many times did you drop it?”

A:  “I don’t know.  A lot of times, I guess.  They just wouldn’t come out, so I kept dropping it on the floor.”

I was more amused than angry.  I could just picture him dropping the remote over and over again until finally the battery cover popped off – kind of like a Herring Gull dropping a clam on the rocks in an attempt to smash the shell and get to the juicy flesh inside.

I can’t wait until he tries the same trick with my laptop…

His afternoon teacher sent home a nice yearbook with pictures taken throughout the year. The last section also had individual profiles of each student. Along with their name and age, each picture had a caption that reads “When I Grow Up”. The answers are pretty typical for 5-year olds – a lot of police officers, firemen, and race car drivers.

B and I were a little stunned and amused at A’s caption, though, which read:

“When I grow up, I want to be a security guard / metal scanner at the airport”.

This came as a complete surprise to us. He talks about being a pilot, a Jedi, an explorer, but we had no idea he was considering a career with the Canada Air Transport Safety Authority. It’s nice to know that he values keeping the airlines safe from nail clippers and shampoo bottles above all else.

We wanted to find out more about his thoughts on this job, so we conducted a little interview.

So there you have it – either an airport security screener or a pilot. Given the poor business outlook for airlines, he’ll probably have to reconsider his options at some point.  Perhaps he’ll be influenced by his classmate Scott, who said “When I grow up, I want to work for the Government of Canada”. Poor kid…

A seems to be picking up a lot of information from his friends at school, which has resulted in some interesting questions at the dinner table lately.

“Dad, have you heard of Punta Cana?”

“Dad, have you heard of the Nintendo Wii?”

“Dad, have you ever seen R2-D2?”

“Dad, can we buy a Mercedes?”

“Dad, what’s a bikini?”

This morning, with no prompting whatsoever, he said “Dad, boys don’t have boobs.”. I almost choked on my Cheerios.

It’s hard to keep a straight face at some of his comments. The other night, in the middle of a huge temper tantrum, A repeatedly yelled “This is the worst night of my life!”. B and I both got the giggles, which was not the reaction A was hoping for.

K has his moments, too. The other day, as he was sitting on the toilet, he looked me in the eye and said “Poop is my friend”. I was left speechless.

In all seriousness, I love how inquisitive children are at this age.  They are just so curious about how everything works, and you can see their little brains working overtime to figure things out.

I’ll leave you with a picture of the boys that was taken earlier today at Winterlude.