Early morning fog on Jonesport Beach

Every day is a chance to make a monster castle!

Stella rockclimbing in Roques National Park area

Hubby with Max in hiking backpack on Beals Island

Me and my boy Max

So I simply searched the internet for all cottages that met this criterion and then booked the one at the best rate, which happened to be in a small fishing town called Jonesport …

[to read more, please click here to read the full post on Life As A Human]

I knew what he wanted. “Oh, come on,” I pleaded, “We really don’t need a bike lock. Your bike is the only one worth anything and we can bring it into the hotel room if we have to.”

He countered saying that it would be really quick — he could just run in while I drove to the Tim Horton’s for a caffeine fill-up.

“No … these things always end up getting drawn out. We’ll end up killing 20 minutes just to get a stupid lock. We have a long drive ahead. Let’s just go,” I whined said.

He looked at me.

“Okay fine.” I turned the car in to the parking lot to drop him off.

Then I pulled out into the intersection towards the Timmy’s.

But: Oh crap … I can’t over! And this lane is taking me right back onto the highway! Crap! Crap! Crap!

Now I am driving on the highway, heading right back to Ottawa. Good stuff.

I’m sweating bullets. The children, on the other hand, are completely oblivious in the back.

I don’t see any exits coming up soon. None.

And I don’t even know where I am so this GPS isn’t going to help me one bit. Gah!

And hubby doesn’t have his cell phone with him. Double gah!

Okay wait … what’s this … an authorized U-turn zone? Done! Consider me “unauthorized.”

I finally get back to where I’d started from and turn off the highway. Then I pull into the Timmy’s drive-through and get us our double-doubles.

As I approach the Canadian Tire, I check the clock. It’s been at least 25 minutes since I dropped him there.

I can see him flagging me down out front. I pull into the parking lot and he’s looking concerned. He probably thought I totalled our new car while he was buying that $20 lock. But a quick once-over, and he can see that the car and its contents are unharmed.

“What happened? Are you okay,” he asks.

“Look, I told you that it would waste 20 minutes if you went to get that lock!”

When will he learn that I am always right?

11:30 pm:  Shutting down computer after putting some finishing touches on a report.

1:00 am:  Youngest child wakes up. Mom makes sure everything is okay, puts in some cuddle time and offers some milk.

1:30 am: Youngest child now settled, Mom returns to her bed.

2:00 am: Youngest child awakes again. Mom repeats steps from earlier, with no success.

2:30 am: Mom goes back to her bed with the youngest and hopes for the best. Youngest takes some time to settle into bed, does a lot of flopping around on Mom’s head.

4:30 am: Eldest child comes to bedroom and wakes Mom up. Mom can’t even process why child is up … either a nightmare or mosquito, but ushers child back to their bed.

5:30 am: Mom is in bed with two children. No one is asleep.

Our first expedition with this clunking announcement of parenthood was to Algonquin Park. We spent a weekend at Achray, and it was wonderful. It really renewed my faith that perhaps I would once again enjoy camping. We could use the pop-up tent trailer just until the kids got older and strong enough to canoe and portage with us. It would all be okay. (Well, actually, I knew that everyone in the family would like camping regardless … who’s kidding who — it was all about me. Stella’s been a regular camper well before she was out of diapers, but always with her father. You can read her great tips for camping with kids here on the Kids in the Capital site.) 

This is what the view looked like from our camping site at Achray, Algonquin Park:

With such a great start to our new life as “family campers,” we were keen to head out again. On the Thursday night before the May long weekend, we had not found time to plan anything but felt like taking off. We did a very quick google search for a camp ground in the Lake Placid area. I had fallen in love with this area during the winter and I was keen to go back during warmer weather. Our google search led us to a style of camping we had never done: the “ultra-campground.” These campgrounds were huge, had paved roads to the sites, an outdoor pool, a children’s playground, hot showers and flush toilets. Hubby hesitated; I said: “Come on! It’ll be fun! It’s not our style but the kids will love it.” So we booked it.

And this is what the view looked like from our site at the North Pole Campground in the Adirondack Mountains of New York State:

I think you’ll agree that both settings look beautiful. But there was a vast difference in reality. What you can’t see in this photo is that there were people on sites in front and back of us, with only a mere few feet between. Also, while that water looks inviting, you couldn’t actually swim into the river from the campground — just look at it. To go for a hike, fish or swim, you had to leave the campground. So, really, there was not much to do with the children at the actual site itself. They got bored VERY quickly.

And what do children do when they get bored? Whine. (Whining is actually a “nice” way to describe the screechy phase my two-year-old son has stumbled into lately.) 

And who was in those camp sites in front and behind us? Other families, right? That’s what I would have thought … I mean, who in their right mind would choose to camp like this if not weighted down with diapers and other kid paraphernalia?

As it turns out, though, it was retired couples. Not only did this mean that our children had no playmates about, but that I immediately felt uncomfortable … other parents wouldn’t even notice if our children were loud or rambunctious, but the quiet couple sipping drinks next door? Oh my, I couldn’t help but think that I was ruining their weekend.

Since there was really nothing to do at the camp site itself, my kids were constantly wanting to go to the playground. And if I wanted to sit around a playground all weekend, I would have stayed home! If I’m going to go through the hassle of packing up to go camping, I want to be surrounded by nature. I don’t want to have to walk along a highway to get to nature, I don’t want to have to get in the car to get to nature, and I don’t want to worry that my kids’ natural noise-levels are disturbing other people.

Now, that was my experience in an “ultra-campground.” The North Pole campground itself was top-notch: spotlessly clean, with friendly, helpful staff. But it wasn’t for me. At all.

I was miserable. So much so, that we packed up and drove home a day early.

I have since spent every spare moment re-planning our summer vacation. There is simply no way in hell that I am spending my summer vacation — my first vacation in over a year and a half — road-tripping with our tent-trailer, as originally planned. And I’m getting no complaints because NO ONE wants to be with me when I’m miserable!

                                                                                                                                          Do you dare wear short-shorts?

If you’re my age and can pull off short-shorts, all the power to you.

If you’re a young woman with long tanned legs you want to show off, all the power to you.

But please — let’s not dress our young girls in short-shorts.

{click here to see why I’m such a prude about short-shorts! It’s my new post on the Life As A Human e-zine}

This constant barrage of criticism can’t be good for my mental health, can it? Even though I can intellectually reject it, messages can still creep into my subconscious.

And if it’s not good for my mental health, then I certainly don’t want to expose my daughter (and son!) to it either. But wait … is it actually possible for her to avoid this kind of exposure? I can limit it but I cannot stop these commercials from reaching her at some point.

This is something that my husband and I have, regretably, had to accept. We’ve decided that it is more effective to teach our children how to think critically and challenge what it presented to them, than to  spend all of our efforts ensuring that they are not exposed to this kind of mass-manipulation.

So if the television is on in our house and the woman on the television is telling me how to lose weight before bathing suit season, I will talk back to her: “Oh, shut up! I am fine the way I am and diets are unhealthy. You just want my money!” Or alternatively, “What’s wrong with the wrinkles around my eyes? They’re natural. It’s just something that happens when you age. Stop trying to sell me your stupid creams! And how come you don’t try and sell these creams to men, huh?” 

I just thought you should know in case you drop by one day and find me talking to myself. Or yelling.

And also because I just found a gem of a woman named Sarah Haskins (thanks to Margot Magowan and About Face) and she does a tremendous job and breaking down the marketing techniques that specifically target women. Here is one of my favourites, titled “Target Women: Feeding your Family”:

Other great topics that she covers include: Disney Princesses, Cleaning Products, Yogurt, and Skin Care Science and even Vampires. I think her videos could be a great tool for parents who want to challenge media messages with their tweens and teenagers since she manages to combine a critical eye with wit and some well-chosen snark.

What do you think … did they give you a chuckle? did they make you think twice about how a commercial is manipulating you? And how does a woman manage to maintain any self-esteem these days when we’re faced with critical messaging all around us?

I’ve gotta go now. It’s bathing suit season around the corner and I need to go feed myself a liquid meal.   :P

I’ve been missing you though and even though I’ve already consumed said drink, I’ll attempt to share some fun things that happened this week.

Monday

Some Ottawa bloggers were featured in the Ottawa at Home magazine: Dani, Andrea, Annie, Loukia and me too! If you blink, you might miss my two sentences of fame but I am thrilled to have been included in such great company! (The article does not seem to be online, but it’s on newstands now.)

Tuesday 

Stella was eager to participate in her school’s talent show this year. As the auditions approached, she struggled to figure out a “talent” since she does not sing, dance or play an instrument like many of the other children who were auditioning. I suggested that she had a talent for reading and that oration or public speaking was a talent. She was surprised but happy to recognize that this could be a talent and we set about to find a piece for her to read.

After sharing a number of pieces of poetry with her, she selected one from my friend Andrea’s “stealth poetry” posts. And off she went to the auditions. After waiting on pins and needles for days, she came home with the news that she made it into the talent show, which took place this past Tuesday.

I have no shame in admitting that after she stood up in front of her whole school and read the poem in full — without notes and so clearly and proud – that this mamma was a bit of a blubbery mess.

Wednesday

I went to visit a Montessori school and was amazed by how calm and civilized a group of 15 toddlers could be! I am quite interested in the Montessori method as a potential learning environment for my son Max who is turning two-years old soon, so if you have any experiences or thoughts to share, I’d love to hear them.

Thursday

After dinner, hubby went out to pick up some moleskin bandages. And with that, he is now completely and utterly packed – down to the last detail! – for his upcoming mountain climbing adventure in the Rockies. And? It’s not for ages … he is so cute – just like a kid waiting for Christmas!

Friday

I got to meet A Crafty Mom’s three children as she headed out for their first camping trip as a family of five. The kids were so beautiful and SO excited to be going camping. They are going to have a blast, but I did wonder if perhaps I should have packed her up a Sigg bottle with a nice little Brandy, Lime & Soda.

The title of her poster reads: “Oil Spill: Sea Animal Nightmare”

And the captions read:

• The oil blocks the whale’s blowhole
• Air bubbles in sea otter’s fur damaged by oil
• Fish gills clogged with oil
• Oil makes bird cold and sick
• Oil makes plankton toxic
• Crab eats things bathed in oil
• Shellfish suck in toxic water

*sigh*

We’ve had some really horrific and tragic bike accidents in our city as of late.

People have always commuted to work by bike in Ottawa, Canada’s capital. In fact, I distinctly remember my father biking to work every day from our family’s westend home in the suburbs to downtown.

But, now more than ever, we need more cyclists. The environment needs it, our bodies need it, and our children need the role-modelling.

Unfortunately, our city has a lot of work to do before it can be considered cyclist-friendly. In fact, it’s down-right dangerous to even attempt to bike in certain areas of the city. And many cycling enthusiasts, quite rightly, note that motorists are a big part of the problem.

As for me, I haven’t ridden a bike since I was a kid. And even then, it was only around the block.

My seven-year-old daughter, though, just learned how to bike this season on her two-wheeler. And wow! Kids sure learn fast. She has really mastered the skill so quickly. So much so that she has been asking to bike to school now. Despite the hyper-parenting that is a bit pervasive these days, our neighbourhood does have quite a few kids who regularly commute to school on bikes.  Which I think is wonderful.

Stella is a bit young to be commuting on her though. So I have been contemplating a bike purchase. Mostly, I’m tempted by the retro bikes with their fun styling and cute baskets on the front. (It’s all about packaging, isn’t it?) They’re not exactly cheap though and I’d hate for the purchase price to end up being used as much as my gym membership (ahem, that is, not much).

Luck shone on us about a week ago with a bike sitting on the edge of the street with a “free” sign. Sure, it doesn’t have a cute banana seat or even any cute paint colours, but it works just fine.

So twice a week now, I’ve been biking in with Stella to school and then I bike back home and do the same at the end of the day. For me, it’s some fresh air. For her, she escapes the dreaded bus ride in the heat.

The kids we see biking along the way all look like proficient bikers. And although they are dutifully wearing their helmets, I fear for their safety.

Why? Well, it seems that they have no clue what the rules of the road are. I have yet to see one of these children use a hand signal and most cross over a road without even turning over their shoulder to check for cars.

If we want to encourage a future generation of happy cycling commuters, it’s going to take more than just a widening of roads and an awareness campaign directed at motorists. We need to make sure that, as cyclists, we’re doing our part to be good citizens of the road.

With this in mind then, I’d like to share some resources for bike safety. If you’re like me, biking was from when you had a pig-tails, so who couldn’t use a little refresher for sharing with their children?

First of all, cyclists need to follow the rules of the road.

I like Ken Kifer’s site because he provides information without fear-mongering about the dangers of cycling. He notes that most of the collisions involving bicycles occurred because the bike rider did not follow the traffic laws for vehicles. On this page, he provides advice for teaching children the rules according to their age. I thought it was quite helpful.  

This Young Cyclist’s Guide on the Ontario Transportationwebsite runs through all the safety rules and even provides quizzes for your child to complete.

And just as we expect a car to signal, bikers must also use signals. Here are the hand signals for RIGHT TURN, LEFT TURN, and STOP.

So, let’s not keep our kids locked up in our back yards. Let’s let them have some fun — but prepare them and keep them them safe! Happy biking to all!

Do you let your children bike to school alone? What about around the neighbourhood? Have you had to brake quickly to avoid a child cutting in front of you on their bike?

If you enjoyed this post, please consider giving me your vote! I’m a finalist in the Scholastic Parent and Child 2010 Blogger Awards!

But something else that is beautiful has taken place recently. When it comes to reading, Stella is now “Mommy’s little girl.” Just as the outdoors brings a sense of inspiration and peace to my husband, this has always been what reading has provided to me. So I am just thrilled that her life now includes the joy of reading.

I’ve kept two series of chapter books from my childhood: The Chronicles of Narnia series by C.S. Lewis and the Anne of Green Gables series by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Both were boxed sets, which made them extra-special gifts at the time. I have no functional use for keeping them all these years; they sit as purely sentimental mementos in my book shelf.

In the meantime of course, I’ve had a daughter. A daughter who now knows how to read. But her tastes have led to tear through Pokemon, Gerinomo Stilton and Diary of a Wimpy Kid series. My cherished box sets from youth must seem old-fashioned, with their faded covers and black and white interiors, and so they continue to sit quietly in my shelf.

But the other day, she began to tell me about a book called Narnia that she saw at her school library. “There was a lion, a witch, and a bathrobe,” she told me straight-faced. But not even “the bathrobe” could distract me from my opportunity to regale her with the book’s merits. I explained that the last word in the title was “wardrobe” and that it was a cupboard where people kept their clothes when they didn’t have a closet in their bedroom.

And then I pounced: “You know, all sorts of magical things happen in that series of books. I just loved it when I was your age. I think I may even have those books still. Hmmmm….. let me look …”

************

This is the book that Stella found at her school library called Narnia. It was published to tie-in with the film that appeared in theatres in 2005. I have not read it myself, or even seen it with my own eyes, but apparently the visuals are very appealing to children and the language and plot have been modified for the same reason. (It’s received excellent reader reviews on the Chapters-Indigo Canada website and retails for $8.99.)

If you’re not familiar with series, it all starts off with Lucy and her siblings Peter, Susan and Edmund. They are sent to live in the house of an old Professor in the London country to keep them safe during the war. In this large house, Lucy finds that when she hides in a wardrobe, the back of it is actually an entrance to an enchanted land called Narnia. The first book in the series The Chronicles of Narnia is the most famous and it is titled The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. In it, Aslan, the noble lion, frees Narnia from the spell of the White Witch.

I just adore the forward that the author, C.S. Lewis, wrote for his much-loved book, which was first published in 1950. It is inscribed to Lucy Barfield, his Goddaughter.

My dear Lucy,
I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but it shall still be.
Your affectionate Godfather,
C.S. Lewis 

This is what my boxed set looks like, published by Collier Books in second edition in 1978.  Each book has a price of $1.95 in the top right-hand corner. The only pictures inside each book are small black and white illustrations at the start of each chapter.

And you can still buy a beautiful boxed set too! Chapters-Indigo Canada offers a Harpers Collins Canada set with full-color illustrations by Pauline Baynes with original cover art from the Puffin editions, which were published only in the UK in the 1950s ($54.77), while my readers in the U.S. might prefer to order from The Scholastic Store, which sells  similarly lovely set of the seven tales ($40 US). Of note is that no matter where you live, the Scholastic website for parents offers a great discussion guide for The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe that you can use to chat about the book with your child as well as a Parent’s Guide to the Fantasy Book Genre.

************

I pulled out my box set for Stella. This is the Chronicles of Narnia, I explained in a hushed tone probably more commonly used for emphasis on made-for-tv movies. These are the original books that the author wrote, and that Mommy loved, I continued.

Her interest was piqued. She took the first book and tentatively flipped through the pages. Then she wandered off.

Later, as I walked up the stairs, I could see her laying in bed, nose-deep into the novel. It was past her bedtime, the teeth hadn’t been brushed, and no bedtime rituals had been complete. I quietly tip-toed back down the stairs.

She’d found it! That sweet spot. For as any bookroom knows, the big “o” of reading is when you start into a book and within pages you literally cannot put it down. It is always on your mind … you’re just dying to continue onwards through the pages and find out what happens. You’ll deny yourself food, sleep – whatever it takes – to just keep reading. Until one experiences that sensation, one has not experienced the true joy of reading.

Later. Much later. I went upstairs to turn out her light and tuck her in. She’d fallen asleep with the book beside her. And I could see there was only a sliver of pages left to be read. I leaned over and whispered, “Just like Momma,” and gave her a kiss goodnight.

I was inspired to write this post because I just found out over the weekend that this blog has been chosen by the editors of Scholastic Parent and Child magazine as a finalist for their 2010 Parent Blogger Awards.

Needless to say, I’m thrilled! If you would like to vote for my blog, just click here. Voting starts today! (It’s painless, I promise!)

The reality of course is that I’m closer in spirit to a grandmother than a mother because, you the know the old saying, it was all fun and no responsibility. But regardless, when there is a gap of this great of years, you’ve been through it all with them – birth, diapers, childhood, adolescence, and now adulthood.

So you see, although he’s all grown up, I can still fly right into a “mamma bear” maelstrom of emotion. And I’ve been feeling a lot of emotion these days. Because of this:

April and Adham found me sprawled inside the wreckage with blood pouring out of my head and moaning unintelligibly. I must have momentarily lost motor abilities, as my attempts to get up pathetically failed. April says she’ll never get that image out of her head, and I don’t envy her the memory.

He and a group of travellers were just in a terrible accident in Laos. And thankfully, thankfully, thankfully he is okay. You can read the rest of his tale on his blog Adam in Asia.

Oh, these babies, why do they have to grow up?

Me, as a teenager, with my "babies."

I’m feeling very grateful.

Thanks Mom! I love you. xoxxox

***************

Good Mother, by Jann Arden

I’ve got money in my pocket,
I like the color of my hair.
I’ve got a friend who loves me,
Got a house, I’ve got a car.
I’ve got a good mother,
and her voice is what keeps me here.

Feet on ground,
Heart in hand,
Facing forward,
Be yourself.
I’ve never wanted anything.
No I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never wanted anything,
so bad..(so bad).

Cardboard masks of all the people I’ve been
Thrown out, with all the rusted, tangled
dented God Damned miseries!!
You could say I’m hard to hold,
But if you knew me you’d know,
I’ve got a good father,
And his strength is what makes me cry.

Feet on ground,
Heart in hand,
Facing forward,
Be yourself.
I’ve never wanted anything,
No I’ve, no I’ve, I’ve never
wanted anything so bad..(so bad).

I’ve got money in my pockets,
I like the color of my hair.
I’ve got a friend who loves me,
Got a house, I’ve got a car.
I’ve got a good mother,
and her voice is what keeps me here.

Feet on ground,
Heart in hand,
Facing forward,
Be yourself.

Heart in hand,
Feet on ground,
Facing forward,
Be yourself.
just be yourself.
just be yourself.

Feet on ground,
Heart in hand,
Feet on ground,
Heart in hand….

Jack Pine by Tom Thomson (1916), from National Gallery of Canada

Hubby and I have had a long-lasting love affair with this Park. So much so that I wanted to name our son or daughter Quin (short for Algonquin). We’ve spent countless hours alone in the park. On islands adrift in lakes, with no one around but the stars. And we’ve proudly brought visiting family and friends from outside of Canada into the Park as well.

These trips were all before children. I was much hardier then.  Our trips into the Park were more like adventures — tons of canoeing and lots of portaging — where we would seek out spots few others had been to. Now, I use our two children as an excuse for not undertaking this kind of trip … they wouldn’t be able to physically do it, we’d be too far from help if something happened, it’s too complicated with diapers, etc.  But really, it’s me. Somehow motherhood has softened me rather than toughened me up.

But this past weekend I returned to the Park. Hubby is determined to bring me back to my former camping self. With baby steps. Baby steps that include a tent trailer.

So rather than head out into the wilderness, we parked at a tent site with our trailer. Although we are admittedly “camping snobs” who don’t do “car camping,” we’ve resigned to swallow our pride for this portion of our lives with young children. And I think you’ll agree after looking at this photo, that really, it wasn’t that tough to swallow our pride afterall.

The peaceful view from our site.

Algonquin Park is enormous, so it does help to know where you’re going. We had that to our advantage, but now you will too! This is camp site #23 at Achray.

As far as car camping goes, Achray campground does manage to preserve some of our most treasured camping elements: peace, quiet (no radios allowed!), and treed sites that are quite private.  And it’s also the locale where Tom Thomson painted his famous Jack Pine. In fact, you can take a short hike (very easy, kids can handle it no probs) to the exact spot where the pine tree was!

But alas, the pine tree no longer stands there. It died, and then some stupid campers cut it up for fire wood.

The site of the painting Jack Pine.

All in all, it was a wonderful weekend. We relaxed, we ate, we hiked, we spotted wild life.

Can you spot the wild life?

All was good in the world. (And then it snowed on Tuesday.)