Christmas may be officially over, but the fun continues for the St.Jean-Mourali's. We kicked off the holiday season with a day in Montreal visiting Mehdi's family, then arrived in Alberta Christmas Eve where we've been making merry non-stop. I'm too tired from all the fun (and aching from an afternoon curling yesterday) to get into details, but let's just say there's nothing like home for the holidays.

Anissa with big cousin Matayla.


How did Santa know she wanted Dora pyjamas?


Serious playdough-ing with cousin Corbin.


Putting on a show with her new piano.


Best wishes, everyone, from our family to yours!

My version of yesterday:

After a morning hanging out at home, mostly spent playing what Anissa calls "satawant" (and the rest of us call "restaurant"), we headed out into the cold wintry world to meet Mehdi for lunch on campus at a real satawant. After parting ways with Papa, we perused the UNH bookstore for Christmas gifts, made a trip to the drug store then did the grocery shopping. Once home we did puzzles, made pink playdough snowmen and Anissa drew on her easel. I squeezed in some cleaning. Anissa helped me make pea soup, we read some books. Laundry got done, and Anissa watched an epsiode of Barney. We had some laughs, as always, and in general the day flew by.

Anissa's version, as reported to Papa at the end of the day:

"After we ate lunch with you at a satawant, we came home and waited for you to come back."

Some random things I'd like to remember about Anissa:

1. Her love of the game I Spy, and her insistence that we only make our guesses in French. When it's her turn, though, to spy something, she doesn't just say what colour the object is. She launches into a full description, something like: "I spy something that is a brown oval and has a pink nose and yellow tail and has a purple circle on his head. And he rides a red sled." We have to guess everything around us (in French) until she blurts, "It's NOTHING!"

2. Her desire to help, in her own way. Whenever something is broken or doesn't work (i.e. the VCR), she exclaims, "Don't worry, Mama, I'll fix it. With my hammer!"

3. How much she loves our family. She asks for family hugs, and asks to sing the Family Song from Barney, all of us holding hands, at every meal. (In our family, happy as can be. I'm so glad that you belong to our family.)

4. Her feelings towards Santa. When we first explained who he was about a month ago, she instantly decided she didn't like him (Maybe she was suspicious of an old guy who gives gifts to kids. Which is not such a bad thing). Whenever she told me she wanted something she saw in a store and I told her she could ask Santa to bring it for Christmas, she got very annoyed and told me that she would NOT ask Santa, she would only ask ME. (Maybe she's a realist and just doesn't buy into the whole thing). About a week ago, though, she had a complete change of heart. We bought her a stocking to hang and explained that this was where Santa would put her presents. Her immediate reaction was, "I like Santa now."

4. Her reaction when she saw a marshmallow, and I told her it was food: "Oh. I thought it was a little toilet paper."

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...




We were hit with a mega snowstorm last Friday, so Anissa finally got to truly experience what she doesn't remember from last year - jumping in snowbanks, making snow angels, just general flopping about on the ground. And she got to test out the sled we gave her as an early Christmas present. It's a huge hit! Too bad she's come down with a nasty cold that has left us a little housebound. Thankfully, though, she's come up with an alternative that 's keeping her entertained: pulling her stuffed animals around the house in the new toboggan.

We made another trip to Montreal last weekend, this time for a very meaningful occasion: Mehdi's graduation. Aunty Rafika was visiting from Tunisia, making it all the more special. Mehdi had the honour of delivering the valedictorian speech, during which Anissa announced (rather loudly) that she needed to go to the potty. There was no way I was missing his speech, so I gave her permission, just this once, to go in her diaper. Then, for the rest of the speech, she begged me to take her to the bathroom to change her. Anyway, from what I heard of the speech, Papa did a great job. At the end, the entire auditorium could hear Anissa cheering, "Yay, Papa! My papa is on TV!" (the big screens above the stage). We ran down the stairs from the balcony to meet Papa at the end of the ceremony, dirty diaper temporarily forgotten, and Anissa smothered him with congratulatory kisses.

I've been trying not to develop a complex over the fact that my birthday is fast approaching, tacking another year onto an already too-high digit, but so far I've managed not to panic. That is, until a little chat I had with Anissa today. During snack time, we were discussing the gift we were going to make Papa for Christmas, and I told her homemade gifts were always the best. For my birthday, for example, I would love it if she drew me a picture. I told her my birthday was coming soon (you know, in case Papa might need someone to remind him), then asked how old she thought I was turning. Of course, she thought I would be "two", beacuse that's how old the whole world is. When I informed her that I was in fact turning 34, her response threw me off guard:

"Oh. That'll be terrible!"
First of all, I've never heard her use that word. Second, since when does a 2-year-old think a birthday, with cake and balloons and all that fun stuff, is a bad thing?

And here I was trying to stay so positive...

I'm loving my little girl so much right now, I just can't keep it to myself. I came back tonight from a haircut, after 8 p.m., to an empty house - Mehdi took Anissa to watch a bit of a soccer game - and (admittedly, after enjoying a quiet soak in the tub and a little "me" time) I'm missing them. I've got it so good. I have a fabulous, loving husband, and our daughter fills me with the kind of joy I never could have imagined before becoming a mother. She cracks me up a hundred times a day, is generous with her hugs and kisses, and shows an empathy beyond her years. She's a beauty, inside and out. And the cutest thing? Lately, she's been asking me "Mama, are you proud of me?" When I (obviously) gush that yes, of course, so so proud, she gets the hugest grin on her face. She knows it but loves to hear it anyway.

Thursday was (American) Thanksgiving, and we woke up to our first snowfall. Mehdi had planned to go to work, but just knowing that everyone was at home celebrating, and with the snow making it feel like Christmas, we decided to spend some quality family time. We played a bit in the snow and took a scenic drive. Then we did what I recommend everyone do on such occasions: skip the turkey and go out for dinner. The best part of our day together - almost, but not quite, beat out by the white fluffy stuff in the yard - was the chocolate brownie cake with icecream for dessert.



Now, I love chocolate, but Anissa's passion for the stuff obviously comes from her Papa. She would have licked the pan clean if we had let her. (But Mehdi wanted it for himself ;)

Mehdi's going to kill me for writing this, but I've recently discovered another way Anissa takes after him. She often decides she has to use the potty right as we're on our way out the door -and especially when we're already running late - and then spends a good fifteen minutes to half an hour hanging out in the john before getting down to business. I thought it was impossible to make it to anything on time with Mehdi's habits, but with two bathroom-dawdlers in the family now we'll never ever be remotely on time for anything ever again.

It was 14 above in Dover today, so Anissa and I spent most of the day outside. We strolled along the river walk and played in the playground, soaking up the rays. I miss warm weather already and we haven't even seen any real winter days yet.




On another note: Anissa successfully stayed on her own at her playgroup today for the second week in a row while I went across the hall for a parenting group. We've struggled in the past with the separation thing, but a few weeks ago she told me should would "try her best" to have fun, even after I leave. Last Monday and today, she stayed the entire hour without any workers having to come and get me. She told me later that she "cried a little bit" while I was gone. All I know is that she was happily doing puzzles when I came back each time, and I nearly danced with joy. My big girl did it!

I'm hearing myself and more and more in Anissa's speech these days, but it actually had me blushing twice yesterday morning.

Incident #1:
While walking up to the front doors of the gymnastics club for her class, actually early for once, she pulled my hand and broke into a run. "Hurry, hurry, Mama, we're LATE!"

Incident #2:
At home, she decided to "cook" with some empty pots while I got lunch ready. She started stirring with a wooden spoon and announced, "Oh no. It's burning!"

Yikes.

While riding (happily this time) in the car today, this is what Anissa told me:

"Mama, Papa's a big boy now. He's not a monster anymore."

A statement which, naturally, I questioned. "What? Papa used to be a monster?"

Her response should motivate Mehdi to reconsider what he calls his "beard management" strategies: "Yeah, Papa shaved now. His face is not scratchy. Now it's soft!"

Mehdi, stop scaring the children.

I was feeling a little low energy this morning, but Mehdi was up for some outdoor fun. Anissa's pleas for me to join them on an adventure convinced me to ditch the pajamas and hop in the car. It was a gorgeous day for mid-November, so we drove to a nearby oceanside state park with a great playground. Mehdi chased Anissa around while I soaked up the sun (yes, SUN!) and read a book. After a little picnic, we strolled along the beach and collected sea shells, rocks, and anything else that caught our eye. We learned all about the intrigue of sea glass from a nice older couple that turned out to be from New Brunswick and also live in Dover. By the time we convinced (euphemism for "dragged away") Anissa it was time to leave, she was exhausted from the sun and sea. This didn't prevent her from telling me on the ride home, "Mama! I wanna go home, Mama!", OVER AND OVER, for the entire 15 minute drive back to Dover, and the extra minutes we spent on detours, trying to get her to conk out.

Now, I've had some rather unpleasant car rides with Anissa, and this one involved no screaming or crying, but those words over and over were excruciating. After hearing them for what had to be the thousandth time, I was ready to throw myself out of the car. Mehdi was about to crack, too, because he begged me to do something, please, to get her to "be quiet" (I'm softening words here), and it turns out all it took was reaching behind me and holding her hand for five seconds and she was DOWN.

But did she give up? Oh no, not our daughter! When I carried her into the house from the car, she muttered in her sleep, "Mama, I wanna go home". And then, an hour into her nap, she woke up yelling for me, and before falling back asleep, got the famous little phrase in their one last time. At that point, at least it was funny and no longer the equivalent of having my fingernails ripped out.

Here's a shot of my persistent little lady and I on the beach, before the joy ride:

Anissa's favorite topic of conversation lately is about when she "gets bigger" or "grows up". She'll be quiet for a few minutes, deep in thought, then tell me what her newest plans are for the future. The first few she shared were simple enough, like wanting to have her own house and her own telephone. But they are getting better. Here are a few samples:

"When Anissa gets bigger, I'm gonna have a dog house."
I ask her what kind of dog she's going to have, but she shoots me a dirty look.
"I no gonna have a dog. I'm gonna BE a dog! And live in a doghouse."

(Sounds logical, I guess?)

"When I grow up, I'm gonna be a boy. Like Papa. A BIG boy. And I'm going to wear panties and pee on the potty."

(Hmm, I think she got a few things mixed up there?)

"When I get bigger I'm gonna drive a train and pull the handle to go choo-choo."

(Well, at least she's got aspirations other than to become a canine!)

I'm enjoying all these little projections into the future, but I have a feeling the best is yet to come. When Mehdi was not much older than Anissa is now, he told his family that when he was grown up and married he was going to throw his mother-in-law to the sharks.

Watch out Mom!

Nope, I haven't given up blogging. Anissa and I hopped a ride (and quite a ride it was, but that's a whole blog entry of its own!) with Dan, Natasha and Lala to Montreal on Halloween day. We spent the whole week in the Great White North while Mehdi was in Texas for a conference. And, other than that, I've been a little lazy. But we're back, with some of the highlights of the past week or so...



Here's Anissa - oh, I mean Curious George - waiting for Mariella (aka Pippi Longstocking) to arrive in Dover to go trick-or-treating.

The girls were adorable, trotting from house to house to gather their goodies. Anissa was on a mission: immediately after getting her candy at each house, and being reminded to say thank you, she would say, "More! More people's houses now!" It made her look like one greedy toddler, but I didn't have time to explain that it wasn't about the candy. It was all about the experience...really.







Here's Anissa strolling in the Old Port in Montreal, clutching a suitcase containing Lulu, the lamb she chose and outfitted with Mama Jo at the Teddy Bear Factory.

And here's my girl all dolled up for Eid.

It was fantastic as always to be back. Family, friends, good bakeries...sigh.

Anissa was thrilled a few days ago to get a package of surprises in the mail from Aunty Tammala, Uncle Lee and her cousins. In their letter, she was told to ask her mommy to get some portraits done of her so they could have a recent photo of her to put on their wall. I've been meaning to take some nice shots of her myself and get them blown up, so it was the extra push I needed. The trouble is, Anissa's idea these days of a nice pose is what she calls her "one-eye smile". I take shot after shot after shot, asking her to show me her beautiful smile, and this is what I get.


Tammala, we may have to resort to some major Photoshop touch-ups to get you that portrait for the wall.

A conversation with Anissa, in our bed, much too early in the morning:

Anissa: Morning, Mama.
Me: No, Anissa, it's not morning yet. It's still time to sleep.
Anissa: I wuv you, Mama.
Me: I love you too, Anissa. Very much. But let's sleep, OK?
Anissa: OK.

- Brief silence (except for the sound of Mehdi snoring).

Anissa: Mama, what we doing after breakfast? With Papa?
Me: We'll ask Papa when it's time to wake up. Go back to sleep, my love.

- Brief silence.

Anissa: What's a matter, Mama?
Me: Oh, nothing, sweetheart. I'm just tired. It's very early.
Anissa: What's a matter, Mama?
Me: (Sigh) Nothing, really. Let's just sleep a little more, then we'll have breakfast.

- Silence. Heavy breathing. My hopes go up.

Anissa: What's wrong, Mama?
Me: (Laughing) Oh, honey, nothing's wrong. I'm just tired. It's so early. Why are you awake, anyway?
Anissa: I'm awake cuz I'm not tired. Why're you awake?
Me: I'm awake because you're talking to me.
Anissa: Oh.

- Brief silence.

Anissa: Mama, what we doing today? Something fun?
Me: (Sigh) How about we get up and make some pancakes?
Anissa: Yay! I wuv pacnakes!

All I could do was laugh. If I could have reached the phone, I would have dialed 9-1-1, or at least tried to reach Mehdi at work, but I was out of luck.

It began innocently enough with an afternoon of home fun. Anissa and I read new library books, had a tea party, made a collage with leaves we collected outside, talked to Natasha and Lala on the phone, did finger-painting, played hide and seek. I was running out of energy, so I took out Anissa's tent and connected it to her expandable tunnel. I thought I could buy myself some time to write a few emails, but not long after she was begging me to follow her through the tent and into the tunnel. I took the bait.

I made it through the tent OK - though not comfortably - but once I had my body halfway into the very narrow tunnel, I saw that Anissa had lined the inside of it with some cushions. This made for an even tighter fit than usual, but it was too late to go backwards. Anissa was just behind me inside the tent now, waiting for me to go through so she could have another go. How hard can it be, I thought. I'm not that wide around the middle, am I? Famous last words! I grunted and squirmed and twisted, but the further I went in the tunnel, the more stuck I became. "Help!" I told Anissa. "I'm stuck! Pull me out!"

I thought she would go around and tug at my arms through the other end of the tunnel. But, being a two-year-old with her own plans, she tried another tactic: she climbed into the tunnel and wedged herself, flat on her stomach, onto my back. Thank God the tunnel is designed with tiny ventilation holes, because it was more than just a little claustrophobic in there.

Now we were both stuck. I tried clawing at the carpet with my fingertips to move forward, but we weren't budging. I tried rolling, but I didn't want to crush Anissa (who kept saying, "I help you, Mama! I help you, Mama!"). I was squished between pillows and a squirming toddler in a Dora tunnel. I did what I had to do to survive: I laughed my head off. And so did Anissa.

"We're stuck, we're stuck!" we chanted between snorts and giggles. But no one came to our aid. Eventually, the humour of having that thirty pounds on my back wore off, and I had to do some serious acrobatics to get us out of there. I would love to see a playback of how I did it, because I'm not even sure myself. There was some rolling and twisting and several attempts at standing up, and slowly but surely we made our way to freedom.

A lesson was learned today: keep the phone nearby. You never know what can happen.

True happiness, I discovered this weekend, goes something like this:

On a weekend getaway with your husband and daughter in the mountains, arriving at the hotel after a scenic drive on a winding road through the colorful autumn forest and going for a swim in the pool, then taking a family bubble bath in your hotel room jacuzzi. A delicious dinner in a cozy restaurant complete with wine, cheesecake and an unusually well-behaved daughter, followed by a viewing of the Muppet movie while cuddled up in a King size bed.

Am I the luckiest woman on earth, or what?

It's really, really hard to have sympathy for your crying drama-queen daughter when she's checking herself out at all angles in a full-length mirror while she cries. It's even harder when she's crying because she wants to be swung around in the air inside of a pillowcase.

Someday, when Anissa is a teenager and too busy talking on the phone with her friends to give me the time of day, I know I'm going to want to remember this:

Every night, when Mehdi puts Anissa to bed, she tells him over and over, "I wuv Mama. I wuv Mama so so much. I wuv you, too, Papa. But I wuv Mama so so much!"

As I sat in the living room reading tonight, I could hear her interrupting her bedtime story to tell him this again and again, and it took all my willpower not to tear up the stairs and smother her with kisses.

It was a rainy, miserable weekend here in New Hampshire. On Saturday, we attempted a drive up to Portland, Maine but just after crossing the state line, the downpour was so heavy we abandoned our plans for...OUTLET SHOPPING! Kittery, a city famous for such rainy-day sports, was conveniently located just off the interstate, so we window-shopped for a few hours. Actually, I browsed while Mehdi supervised Anissa engaging in her new hobby: puddle jumping. When I came out of Crate and Barrel, I found a very soaked little girl squealing in delight in the parking lot.



On Sunday, we were fortunate enough to have company all the way from Montreal when Karen, Mike, Zach and Chloe spent the night. When they first arrived, Anissa had the strangest reaction. Even though she had been excited about their visit all week, when she actually saw them in the flesh, in our living room, she turned suddenly serious and clung to me. Her expression was of total confusion, and I could just imagine her thought process - What the - ??? How the - ??? But, these are Montreal people...what are they doing here, in our new house, far far away? It only took her a few minutes, though, for her to get over it and then she was happily playing with the buddies she's known since she was 4 months old.

Unfortunately, I didn't get a good shot of the three of them together. During this one, Chloe was off peeing in a porta-potty. Apparently this is a bigger thrill for a toddler than for an adult!




Random moment:
Yesterday, after cuddling on the couch and reading a huge stack of books, it was time for a snack of yogurt. When my girl had difficulty scraping the last bits from the bottom of the container, this is how she asked for assistance:

'"Help me, help me," said Anissa.'

I nearly died laughing.

Quelle artiste!

You wouldn't believe the pile of scrap paper that is accumulating on Anissa's little table. She keeps asking for more and more sheets, and sits down many times a day to create masterpiece after masterpiece. And if she finds any of her creations in the recycling box- heaven forbid! - she puts them right back on her table. She's enjoyed drawing since she could first grasp a crayon, but there has been a major development recently: her art is actually starting to resemble something. It all began a few weeks ago when she discovered she can draw "peoples" - and she's drawn hundreds since.

Anissa has been such a charmer lately. She tends to be one of those kids who doesn't warm up to strangers quickly, shooting dirty looks at people who try to make friendly chit-chat. This past while, though, her social side is emerging. She asks every kid she meets - and sometimes adult - "what's yer name?" and keeps telling them over and over that her name is Anissa (whether or not they asked), and doesn't stop until they acknowledge her in some way. If they're willing to listen, she tells them random facts about herself, like she has blue eyes or a new house and a new Jeep. Today we finally made it back to the Children's Museum in Portsmouth, and she socialized to her heart's content. I was amazed at her new-found confidence. She even took command over the Post Office and ordered the mail carriers (a few kids much older than her) around. Thankfully, they were willing to play along.

And yesterday, she put on her own little show here in downtown Dover. I needed to go to the grocery store for some tomatoes and was having a hard time convincing her to put on her shoes and go outside to get in the stroller. It's about a five minute walk for me, but at her speed it can take a half hour (especially since she needs to stop at every bench along Central Ave and test it out, and pick every rock and every dandelion, leaf, etc.). So I made a suggestion that I knew would get her to move more quickly: I asked her if she would like to push her baby in the doll stroller. Within seconds, she was putting on her shoes.

Boy, did she strut! She was so proud to be out pushing her baby, like a real grown-up Mommy. She smiled and greeted everyone we passed - and they were all grinning too. I could see people in cars pointing and smiling at the sight of this little Momma. She picked out and paid for the tomatoes, and they fit nicely in the basket of her stroller. It was still a pretty long trip there and back, but worth every second.

Happy Apple Day

Yesterday was the big day here in Dover: it was Apple Harvest Day. Main street was closed to traffic, and everyone and their dog must have come from miles and miles around because this unusually quiet little city was actually crowded! Anissa, Mehdi and I headed out of the house in the morning without a clue what to expect. Bobbing for apples? Vats of apple cider? Some kind of apple mascot, maybe?

Turns out Apple Harvest Day doesn't have a thing to do with the forbidden red fruit. Apparently, the apple orchards are even so busy harvesting at this time of the year they can't make an appearance to promote their products. What was Apple Harvest Day, then? A giant sidewalk sale with a small midway, some outdoor entertainment and...well, that's it. Not that I'm complaining. Anissa had a blast. First, she got picked up by a real, live fireman to sit in the driver's seat of a fire truck! The grin in the photo says it all:



After cutting some rug to a live children's entertainer, we headed for the midway where Anissa discovered a big big big slide. It was one of those huge inflatable numbers, and Anissa was beyond excited to get on it. Just before Mehdi was about to send Anissa up the giant staircase, he overheard that it was only for kids age 3+. He didn't have the heart to tear her away, so he decided to take advantage of the fact that she looks older than 2 and send her up. She managed to get up that big staircase on her own, but let's just say she caused quite the traffic jam. See the impatient girl at the bottom of the line, looking up to see who's taking so long? See that little red hat at the top of the line? That's our girl!

The slide down was faster than any teeny slide at the playground, and Anissa even flipped over and rolled at the bottom, but she loved it. We managed to entice her away from the slide by taking her on a ride on the kiddy train, then she was a cowboy "just like Pepere" and went on a pony ride.

Next was the petting zoo. And while trying to sneak out to head home (Mehdi and I were exhausted), she spotted the big slide and cried to get back on. We tried explaining to her that she was too young, but then we spotted a boy about her age going up the stairs hand-in-hand with with his mother. Thus I was sucked into taking off my shoes and beginning the first of what turned into FOUR trips up and down the giant slide. Anissa only wanted my help up the stairs - once we got to the top, she insisted I slide down on my own. She watched and howled with laughter as I whizzed down to the bottom, then came down on her own. After four trips - and feeling more and more foolish - I convinced Mehdi it was his turn to accompany our little daredevil. Two more trips, with Anissa of course insisting he go down on his own as she watched the show from above, and we had to pry her away.

Mehdi and I now realize why she was laughing so hard when each of us slid down: she probably knew how dumb we looked, grown adults going down with no child in sight. I would have laughed too (and I did, when it was Mehdi's turn!).

Sounds like a busy day? Well, the fun wasn't over. It was unusually warm and sunny for October, so we jumped in the car and headed off to the ocean. Anissa had a snooze, Mehdi and I enjoyed a coffee with an ocean view, then we stopped in at a beautiful ocean-side state park. We had fun exploring the trails peppered with old broken fences, railway tracks, stone walls and other hidden treasures. Anissa particulary liked the stone benches, where she did a fish pose for us:



I can't wait to see what next weekend brings!

Sight-seeing

I think I may have to accept the inevitable: Anissa no longer needs a nap. Whenever she skips one, which is fairly often these days, she holds up just fine for at least 12 hours or so. Today, we had a full morning that would have knocked her out if she really needed an afternoon siesta: she attended the library story hour (which includes singing, dancing, and a craft), then played in the playground and ran up and down her beloved covered bridge, ate lunch and jumped on the trampoline, and listened to me read all her new library books. Still, by 2:30 she was showing no major signs of fatigue. So she watched an episode of Mr. Dressup (a DVD from a set I nostalgically purchased in Montreal), then played "pretend" and trick-or-treating for the rest of the afternoon while I did some cleaning. There were no meltdowns at all. So, yesterday, why did I....

DRIVE TO MAINE TO PUT HER TO SLEEP?

It finally happened. I can now say that I drove to another state just to give her a nap. You see, it's been months and months since she will actually go down at home. This was OK in Montreal, where we actually spent long stretches of time walking about, either heading home from an outing or shopping or whatever, because she would crash in the stroller. But, well, there's just not as much to see on foot in Dover. And we are more often in the car here, so a well-timed car ride home is generally the new napping method. Yesterday, Anissa woke up earlier in the morning than usual and was acting tired at her gymnastics class, so after a drive to the Dollar Store (boy, I miss Dollarama!) I thought I'd take the opportunity for a scenic detour to a few nearby towns on the way home. We made it to Somersworth, only about 5 minutes away, and Anissa was still banging on a tupperware dish I had bought at the dollar store and singing (sort of) her ABCs. I kept driving, sure she was on the verge of conking out. We were nearing the Maine border when she treated me to a new song. It went something like:
"I pee on the potteeeeeee-ya! I pee on the big potteeeeee-ya! And the little poteeee-ya!"

I was trying hard not to laugh, and thinking maybe I should turn around and head back to New Hampshire, when she started her usual pre-nap whining for a "hug, Momma, hug"! She went down in Maine, and I carried her up to her room a mere ten minutes later.

This is a pretty expensive napping method, consider the price of gas. But at least I'm getting to know the area.

A few favorite moments from our busy day today:
1) Anissa's deep voice standing out amongst all the little squeaky ones while singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star at the library Story Hour (Natasha doesn't call her the Soul Singer for nothing).
2) Anissa actually getting into Mr. Dressup, my favorite show as a kid. I wasn't sure she'd enjoy the slow-pace of the show - after all, she's used to the fast-paced action of Dora the Explorer - but she loves it. He's her new hero.
3) The way she comforted me when she heard me complaining out loud that the onions I was chopping were making me cry. "It's OK, Momma," she said. "Don't be sad. Onions are nice!"

Me Too!

Lucky us. We got to spend the weekend in Montreal. The excuse to go was Mehdi's conference, but the real reason was to see everyone. Aziz and Eolie have moved back from Paris, and Mehdi's cousin Cais came down from Quebec city for the weekend, so we had a genuine family reunion. Natasha and Dan threw us a wonderful post-departure farewell party on Saturday, and although the time with our friends and family was all too brief it was soooo nice.

Anissa, of course, had a great time hanging out with everyone. On the long drive home, she asked me all kinds of questions: "Mama Jo can't walk to the new house? I can't go to Lala's house?" When we passed Concord, she saw the lights and asked me where we were. I explained it was the city where we pick up Mama Jo and Natasha and Mariella when they come to see us on the bus, and she let out a long sigh. "Í want them to come see me. All of them. I wuv them. All of them!"

My sentiments exactly!



(Anissa at Mama Jo's apartment with the family, a view of Montreal's "mountain" in the background)

Just another outing

I had a whole roster of activities planned for our first week of real life (without guests) in Dover: Monday, playgroup; Tuesday, Crafty Kids; Wednesday, gymnastics; Thursday, Library Story Hour, then leaving for our weekend trip to Montreal. Tuesday night, though, and it all changed.

When Anissa woke up around 1:30 a.m., I could hear the strange choking sounds all the way from our room. I ran to get her and discovered her gasping for breath to the point that she could barely cry out for us. Adrenalin kicked in, of course. All I could think was "asthma attack!", because I suffered enough of those as a kid. So I knew what to do. I ran downstairs (yelling at Mehdi to get dressed, that we were going to Emergency) and opened all the windows, getting her to breath in the fresh, cool air. Once she was able to get some oxygen, she began to cough and I realized this was no asthma attack: she was barking that seal-llike cough I've heard about. CROUP!

By the time we got to the hospital (thankfully only a minute's drive away), Anissa was sleepy but breathing just fine. And by the time we got the see the doctor, she was thinking that this was one cool dream. She got to see all the tools from her favorite toy, her doctor's kit, but real and in action. She got stickers. And, to make it all the more pleasant, our doctor was a Canuck from P.E.I., so Mehdi and I got treated to a nice maritimer's accent and some chitchat about "back home". A good time was had by all.

Oh, and yes, Anissa has croup. The first case of the season seen in these parts. It's a pretty common childhood illness, and usually nothing to worry about. She's been doing fine since. It is, however, highly contagious. So our activities have been cancelled and instead we're hanging out at home. Anissa doesn't seem to mind. In fact, there's only one thing she keeps asking to do again "next week"...

A trip to see the doctor!

Love is in the air

We never talk to Anissa about the idea of husbands or boyfriends or any of that romance business, which is why one of her evening's conversations with Papa was especially surprising :

Anissa: When Anissa's bigger, I wanna have a boy.

Mehdi: Oh, you want to be a mommy and have a baby boy?

Anissa: No! When I bigger, I wanna have a Papa boy. A boy like Papa!


One thing's for sure: the girl's got great taste!

The Royal Treatment

Princess Anissa getting a foot massage from Pepere.

Falling in love again and again

I don't have any story to tell, but I thought I'd share some of the adorable things our daughter has been saying and doing lately. I may have said this at every other stage of her development, but I honestly think this age is the best. A few reasons why:

Her imagination. She loves to play that she is someone else (a policewoman riding a horse, like the mounted police here in town; a monster, usually a Gagawa from a French book; a mommy saying "It's OK" to a crying baby; a cashier) and of course insists everyone else play along. In fact, I sometimes feel I hardly see my daughter these days and am instead spending time with a host of interesting characters. She can get so into her play that she's oblivious to what is going on around her, such as the time when I was trying to buy a bus ticket at the counter and she (in my arms) was insisting that I pretend I was a dog. I nearly barked and panted just to get her to stop yelling. Other times, like when I went to take a sip of "tea" that came from the bathtub, she firmly reminded me that it's only pretend (and, in that case, that I was about to drink "bum soup", what we call bath water). Most of the time, she is brutally honest (announcing "I'm pooping! Holy! Big poo!", no matter where she is in public) but other times she likes to entertain with a little exaggeration - like her Mommy. After a uneventful boat cruise with my parents on the weekend, during which we saw a few seals poke their heads out of the water, she told Mama Jo on the phone that we had seen a shark!

I have a question for Mama Jo: is Anissa's report of what you do at work true? Anissa has spent some time at her grandma's office, and recently told us that Mama Jo's job involves looking at pictures of Anissa all day and eating chocolat! Hmmmm.

Her sweet, loving nature. She gives compliments: "Wow, Papa. Your shirt! I like it." She tells us she loves us. When someone seems upset, she gently tells them, "It's OK". Last night, as I was holding her hands to walk down the stairs she turned, grabbed my face and said, "Oh, Mama. Your brown eyes are so nice. So nice!". Forget that I was wearing sweatpants and one of her hairclips pulling back my bangs - I felt like the most beautiful woman on earth!

Her smarts - street and otherwise. She's good at puzzles, she's strong and can kick a soccer ball better than I can, she can count to 10 in English, Arabic and French. She corrects Mehdi's English and my attempts at Arabic (in fact, she outright laughs at those). But she's also got street smarts; she can stare down any stranger with a look I know will come back to haunt us in her teenage years. There's no messing with this girl.


Thanks for indulging my need to brag up our little rascal. I'll save some for another time!

The Voyage

I broke down and did it. Something I am a tiny bit ashamed to admit, because it's one of the millions of things I said I would never do when I became a parent that I now do. After we had Anissa I began to truly understand the meaning of "desperate times call for desperate measures".

I bought a portable DVD player. Now Anissa can watch videos during "long" trips in the car. I didn't really buy it for her. It's more, I confess, to save my own sanity. See, when we drive anywhere for more than half an hour or so, I have to be "The Entertainer". And when you have a toddler who hates the car, you have to really put on quite a show or you pay an awful price and endure endless whining and crying until you feel like you want to hurl yourself out the window onto the freeway. So I thought I'd leave the entertaining to Dora or someone more qualified for at least part of such trips. And the reason I bought the device this week specifically was because I had to drive with Anissa (sans Mehdi; he was teaching) to pick up my parents at Logan airport in Boston on Wednesday night. It's only about an hour and a half away, but I guess I must be a pessimist because I always imagine the worse possible scenario (Anissa throwing an hour+ long tantrum the entire way while I'm trying desperately to read maps and follow signs in the dark with insane big-city drivers cursing at me as the drive by). The TV, I was sure, would buy me the security I needed to make it to Logan.

How naive.

By the time I arrived at the airport at 8:15 p.m., I could have swallowed a whole bottle of Gaviscon to fight the ulcer that was beginning to form in my stomach. The TV had worked its magic for the first 45 minutes or so of the trip, when it was still light out and I was smoothly sailing down a four-lane superhighway. It was when it got dark, when staring at that screen began to tire Anissa's eyes and she asked me to shut it off, that I knew this little bit of technology was not going to save me. Just as I had to turn off the four-laner and start driving into the city, she started to whine. I asked her, please please, not to do it now. To have a meltdown later, at the airport, but not when I needed to concentrate. I begged her to be happy, to give Mommy a break so I could find the airport. She tried, I'll give her that. She yelled, "Airport! Where you?", "Memere, Pepere! Where you?". But a few minutes later, when I got to the first of a series of complicated badly indicated giant traffic circles where I had to cut off various big trucks to make it over a few lanes when the Logan Airport sign popped out of nowhere, Anissa could no longer contain her frustration. She let it all out. And out some more.

It's a miracle I made it there at all. Dad assures me that in a year's time, after the umpteenth trip to Logan airport, I'll laugh that I ever found the trip difficult. But with that wailing Banshee in the backseat, it seemed like the most complicated route ever. (If you've ever seen Peewee's Big Adventure, it was kind of like the scene when Peewee is driving the semi through the mountain roads and the signs get more and more ridiculously convoluted. I swear.) As soon as we found Terminal C and Anissa was unbuckled, everything was fine and dandy. She gave Memere and Pepere the warmest welcome, and fell asleep in the car on the way home - which, along with the fact that I had Dad in the front seat to help navigate, made the trip back almost relaxing.

So that little TV is not the magic solution I thought it would be. But having Memere and Pepere here is well worth any trip.

Just look at Anissa playing the tour guide, pointing out grapes, at the Strawberry Banke museum in Portsmouth yesterday!

Wishing Well

Anissa and Mariella said a sticky (due to ice-cream consumed at the bus station) goodbye this afternoon. My little sweetheart must have sensed that I was feeling a little sad about our friends' departure, because she not only stayed sitting in the shopping cart for more than an hour at Target but also loudly proclaimed her affection for me for all the other shoppers to hear ("I love Mama! I LOVE Mama! I love MAMA!").

It's amazing how three little words can melt the heart.

(The photo was taken yesterday at the gardens in Portsmouth.)

Privacy, please!

Anissa and I were lucky enough to join in a celebration today when Mariella made a poo in the potty. Anissa was especially lucky because she also got a reward lollipop, although she hadn't created anything in the loo. The girls were so excited about their treats that they shut themselves away in the bathroom and Anissa sang "Happy Birthday to Lala". When we opened the door to peek in on the festivities, Lala told us firmly to close the door.

We can already imagine what they'll be like as teenagers!

Reunion

Anissa must surely be thinking that this new house place is pretty darn cool. First, Mommy and Papa are home with her all day, taking her out to the beach and having picnics in the backyard. Then Mama Jo not only comes to visit, but actually sleeps over for a long weekend. It was really tough to say goodbye when Mama Jo boarded the bus back to Montreal (Anissa sobbed, actually) but at least Mariella and Natasha had just gotten off the bus just 45 minutes earlier and came over for a week-long pyjama party! The girls hadn't seen each other for over a month, but the moment they saw each other they were back to their old ways. Yes, they are adorable together (kissing, hugging, holding hands, saying thank you and please and you're welcome) but they are also keeping Natasha and I on our toes with their usual antics. We've been out and about, exploring. We've been to a beach in New Hampshire and another in Maine, shopping, to Portsmouth's Children's Museum and on numerous other outings for icecream and whatever else keeps our darlings happy.

Needless to say, we're having a great time. And, the icing on the cake, Natasha and Lala wake up early and make us waffles or go to the bakery and buy us croissants. We're so spoiled!

Papa's Heroine

Earlier this week, Anissa and I had our first taste of "real" life in Dover - meaning Mehdi left us and went off to work.

Day One: Dropped Mehdi off at UNH then headed to Wal-Mart in one last desperate attempt to get blinds to fit each of the windows in this house. Mission unaccomplished. Shopping with Anissa is a marathon event these days. She won't stay in the shopping cart (and, unfortunately, knows how to take off the seat belt and will dive off if necessary) so I have to chase her around the store as she pulls whatever catches her eye off the shelves and asks, "Mama buy that?". Stuffed animals or boxes of tampons, it makes no difference to her. We found a few of the needed blinds (and, somehow, ended up with extras in the cart) and got out of there ASAP. After lunch and a nap, a slight feeling of loneliness set in. No one to call to ask if they want to join us at the park. But I was hopeful, remembering a little playground not far from our house that I had glimpsed from the car. So Anissa and I headed out to find it. I'm not exaggerating when I say my heart sunk when we arrived. There was not a single soul in sight. Not once in Montreal did I ever see a completely empty playground. Anissa was excited nonetheless, and after some sliding and swinging we started our way back home. All kinds of negative thoughts were going through my mind, "Are we going to make friends? Is poor Anissa going to be stuck playing only with me all day long? Where IS everybody???".

And then it happened. This wonderful tinkling music carried from down the street, and everything changed. The empty street was suddenly filled with children as they raced out to meet the ICE-CREAM TRUCK! I'm embarrassed to admit I was the most excited one there. Having grown up in the northern bush, I have never seen a real "live" ice-cream truck. Anissa and I bought a creamsicle and I giddily asked the driver if I could take a photo.



It made my day.

Day Two: A visit to the library, a little grocery shopping and a picnic in our yard. Not too bad at all.

Day Three: A day of phone calls with banks and insurance and a ton of other admin stuff. Anissa is such a trooper, putting up with all this.

Day Four: Happy Days are here, and "real life" in Dover is on hold. We picked up Mama Jo at the bus depot and, although I didn't see it, apparently their reunion was something straight from a movie. Anissa ran shrieking into a thrilled Mama Jo's arms.

Day Five: Mama Jo, Anissa and I visited Mehdi's campus then spent the afternoon in nearby Portsmouth.

Day Six: The beach, and the real memorable moment from the week. You would have to have been there to really understand it, but our darling Anissa is a true heroine. Let me explain.

Anissa loves the beach, but not the ocean nor the waves. She may dip her toes in the water, but then runs screaming away the moment a wave comes rolling in. This weekend, though, she decided that those waves are a serious threat. Mehdi and I were heading slowly into the water for a dip when Anissa came running into the water after us. At first, I was thrilled, thinking she was conquering her fear. But when I went back towards the beach to meet her, I saw that her expression was not playful in the least. She looked terrified. And as I got closer, I could hear her yelling, "No, Mama! No, Papa! Come back! Come back!". Mama Jo was chasing after her, trying her best to catch her but she was on a mission. I picked her up and took her to the beach, assuring her we were only swimming. But she could not be calmed. She yelled at Mama Jo and I that, "Papa come back NOW! The water scare me!" She pointed to the ground in front of her and insisted, "Papa here, no in water!"

We did our best to assure her everything was fine, that Papa would come back when he was done swimming. At that, she gave us the dirtiest look. Looking back, I can just imagine what she was thinking; "You people! If you won't do anything, than I will!". She took off running straight into the water. She leaped through those waves like an Olympic hurdler, so fast we couldn't catch her. We yelled at Mehdi and he turned and saw her running out to save his life. When he picked her up out of the water, her heart was pounding so hard he could feel it against his chest. She began to sob and, once back on the beach, clung to her precious Papa for ten minutes. We were all moved by her heroism.



Day Seven: A quieter day spent strolling through Dover with Mama Jo. This evening, we took a boat cruise down the river. The natural beauty here is truly breathtaking.

The sad news is, Mama Jo returns to Montreal tomorrow. The good news? Mariella and Natasha arrive at the same time. And when the sad day arrives that they must leave, more good news: my parents arrive. No time for homesickness around here!

Life Lesson

Life is a little different from Montreal here in New Hampshire, but we're doing our best to do like the locals. Instead of going for an evening stroll in Parc La Fontaine, we wandered down Dover's Riverwalk and through the covered bridge. Anissa ran screeching up and down it in excitement many, many times before we could convince her it was time to go "home" (which she's still calling "the new house").




Another difference: back in the Plateau, Anissa and her Papa used to head out in the morning a few times a week to get some breakfast goodies at the nearest bakery. We happily discovered a nice little bakery near the house here, so Ana and Papa did their usual routine this morning (and, even more fun, it was raining so Anissa got to wear her precious raincoat!). Only this time they came back, not with a bag of croissants and chocolatines, but bagels from Dunkin Donuts. The bakery, apparently, is not open on Sundays. I guess Saturday will be bakery day and Sunday we'll do waffles from now on.






Yet another change from our old lifestyle: driving. We do it. A lot more of it. Anissa rarely got in the car in Montreal, and when she did she was usually accompanied by Mariella (who kindly entertained her by making rasberries or passing her snacks most of the trip). Here, she's alone back there, which she's not too fond of. On Friday when we headed to the mall to buy a barbecue, though, I finally understood why. We've had our suspicions, but a recent incident on the way to the zoo with Mama Jo and the barbecue trip confirmed those fears: Anissa gets car sick. And really car sick! She threw up all her afternoon snacks and then some. She was crying the whole time, but still managed to have a sense of humour about it. When I said, "It's OK, sweety, it's just a little puke", she stopped crying and replied, "No, BIG ONE!". Once we had her cleaned up (and changed into an extra outfit that, by some miracle, I had in the car) we felt so bad to put her back in the car we abondoned our barbecue plans and took her to...Chuck E. Cheese! She forgot her misery by riding the train with Barney, playing kiddie arcade games and helping Papa shoot teeth off a clown. (I think Mehdi was having more fun than she was. In fact, he swiped many of her tokens to drive race cars. And he bought a Chuck E. balloon, although he says it's for her.)

It may take us some time to get used to this new lifestyle. But one thing we can count on: Anissa is always living it up, reminding us that life is a blast no matter where we are.

Bathing Beauty

We're off to test-drive an SUV this morning (Mehdi's reward for all those years of hard work - an SUV, not just a test drive), but before we go here are those beach shots I promised. Sorry about the bad layout. No time to work on it.




Wow, age two and already writing her name! ;)





Now, why won't this darn thing work???





The best part about the beach is the icecream on the way out.

Kangaroo

I managed to dig the camera cord out from our mountains of boxes (yes, still!) but then the camera battery died as I was trying to unload the photos. My apologies, Mama Jo!

Today we had a little taste of normal day-to-day life might be like for us in Dover. Anissa and I went to the library this morning to catch a magic show, then signed up for library cards. Anissa really really wanted Mariella to come to the library too (because, of course, that's the way it always is) but was cheered up when she discovered a lovely playhouse and train set in the toddler room. On our stroll home, we lucked out and crossed paths (twice!) with the mounted police who patrols downtown Dover. Then, as if this day could get any better, Mehdi assembled the trampoline from Memere and Pepere that Anissa has waited so patiently since her birthday to jump on. Let's just day she made up for lost time! If our neighbours hadn't noticed yet there's a toddler living on the street, they certainly know now - her shrieking and laughing could surely be heard a few blocks in every direction.

Seacoast Living - So Far

Brace yourself. This could be a long one.

So we made it. Late Wednesday night, after a severely exhausting and emotionally-draining week of packing and goodbyes, we set up camp in the living room of our rental house in Dover, New Hampshire. We were feeling lucky after a chance meeting with our movers at the border: they were missing a paper they needed to get our stuff into the US, so if we hadn't run into them and provided the crucial document they may have gotten stuck there for a while. We could still be camping out in our living room! But alas our possessions made it safe and sound to Dover early the next morning.

For those of you who don't know where Dover is, it's in the southern tip of NH (called the Seacoast), just an hour and a bit north of Boston and a very short drive to the scenic Atlantic coastline. A lovely place for a vacation, hint hint.

How's life in this part of the world? So far, it feels more like this is a vacation than real life. Mehdi is at home all day long, we're living out of suitcases, keep getting lost and get a funny look whenever we hand a store clerk our Canadian Tire Mastercard. We've spent two lovely afternoons at two different beaches (the one today was amazing) and went out for a delicious seafood dinner. Of course, it hasn't been all fun in the sun. We've managed to do some shopping for the necessities and unpacking, but our little house is still a jungle of boxes and unassembled IKEA furniture.

Anissa? She's been fabulous. She's been having a blast rediscovering her toys as they come out of the boxes, and has suddenly become really into pretending that she is someone else (usually Dora, her favorite TV character) and making us pretend we are someone too (usually Boots, Dora's monkey sidekick, or Swiper, the sneaky fox who steals things). She seems to like the new house and has only taken one tumble down the stairs so far (add to ever-growing list of things we need to buy: safety gate!). She's asked a few times, when overtired and on the way home from the beach, to "go home now", not to the new house, but when we explained the new house was home now she seemed OK with it. Tonight when she got a little crabby all we had to do was check out photos of Mariella, Chloe and Zach, and Clara and Leo on their blogs and she cheered right up. We watched the camping and Lala's birthday slideshows over and over. She couldn't get enough.

(By the way, I apologize for the lack of photos with this entry. I have some beauties from the beach I wanted to post, but I can't find the darn cord to download them from the camera. It's packed somewhere in a one of the kazillion boxes stacked in a closet. Soon, I promise.)

In a nutshell, life here seems fine. There are a lot of things I know we'll miss about Montreal: mostly our friends and Mama Jo, and just the liveliness of the city itself. The tough days in Dover are yet to come, I realize. But, in an effort to think positively, there are certainly things here I could get used to: driving without fearing for my life, hearing crickets outside our house in the evening (and we live downtown!) and of course the beautiful beaches less than a half hour from our house.

Come see for yourself!

A La Prochaine, Montreal

I really don't have time to be doing this, but I just had to sit down and write one final entry before The Big Day (Wednesday, in 2 days!). Everything has come together this past week: we sold our condo and Mehdi got his work visa, so reality has hit. We're moving. Leaving this city that we've grown so attached to, and the people here that have made it home. Not only that, we are leaving my country. As you can imagine, the emotions are running high around here. I've been blessed to spend 8 years in this vibrant, colorful city and I know it will always hold a very dear place in my heart. And I will not forget the wonderful people I have met here.

This was supposed to be a light-hearted entry...oops.

Needless to say this week has been exhausting. Packing, packing, cleaning, making phone calls, more packing. I had naively thought it would take a few days, but I guess this is the first time I've ever lived somewhere so long (besides with my parents) and accumulated so much stuff. (6 years, and so many things have happened here: Mehdi and got engaged and married, Mehdi and I both finished a Masters and Mehdi finished his PhD, we had Anissa...so many great memories). Yesterday we took a break and took Anissa to the zoo with Mama Jo, who has been a God-send during this moving ordeal. Anissa has been so very lucky to have such an adoring, fun grandma living nearby for these past two years. I know it's going to be tough on both of them not to be able to see each other as often. Our whole family will miss Jo a lot. Thank you, Jo, for being there for us all these years. Even though we won't be able to spend as much time together, you will always be a huge part of our lives.







Last night I packed up Anissa's room with her. She doesn't totally understand what's going on, of course, but she helped me put things in boxes. Watching her play so sweetly in her room one last time really got me. She will never remember this home but for me it will always be the place we brought her to from the hospital, the place where she learned to walk and first said "Mama".





Au revoir Montreal. Thanks for all the happiness you've brought us.

The Latest

Anissa's newest hobby: Making lists. She takes her notebook and scribbles on page after page after page, and every now and then delivers one to Mehdi or I with a, "There you go. Ana made list." (This is not a surprise, since I've been known to make lists of the lists I need to make...)

Favorite thing to say: "Ana like it. Mama like it too?"

Favorite toy: A doctor's kit. I got tired of her stuffing various toys in my ears and my mouth ("Say AHHHH, Mama.") after she was inspired by her two-year check-up at the pediatrician, so I bought her the kit. She LOVES giving check-ups, especially the part where she checks our reflexes with a whack to the knee.

Favorite treat: Choc-O-lat (French pronunciation)

Latest discovery: Fireworks ("Wow! Flowers. Oooh, stars!")

What she has to say about spinach: That blah!

What she has to say about asparagus: That blah!

What she has to say about icecream: C'est bon, ca!

The World the Way it Should Be

A convo with Anissa over dinner tonight:

Me: Well, that was a fun day, wasn't it? We went to the petting zoo and fed animals, then went to the playground. I had fun.

Papa: I had a good time too.

Ana: Me too. More outside now. No home.

Mama: But it's getting dark outside, and you need to have a bath and go to bed.

Papa: Yeah, we need to rest so we're ready for a new day tomorrow. Everybody is going to sleep now - the animals, the people, everyone.

Ana: Ana no need sleep. No bed. I need outside. Yeah, pool open. Pool not closed.

Wouldn't that be great? No one needs sleep and the pools are always open...sigh.

Mama and Papa's Night Off

We went out for dinner last night at a quaint little Bring Your Own Wine Peruvian resto with Mama Jo. The food was nothing to write home about, but I'd go back there any day. How many restaurants, after all, can boast a sweet six-year-old activities coordinator to entertain our daughter?

Yup, we lucked out big time: Andrea, the daughter of the owner and an only child, swooped Anissa up as soon as we got in the door and, for the next two hours, kept her happy by coloring with her, playing hide and seek and chasing her around the restaurant. I'm not sure the other diners were so impressed but if the owners weren't complaining, neither were we!

While walking Mama Jo home, Mehdi and I were debating renting a "family movie" to kill the rest of the evening. We just didn't know if we had the energy to fill Andrea's shoes. When it came time to say goodnight to Mama Jo, though, Anissa surprised us by insisting that she go "ni-night" at Mama Jo's house. Our girl really is growing up. So I made a quick trip home to get Ana's p.j.s and toothbrush. On the way back, I rented a movie...and it wasn'teven made by Disney.

Thanks Mama Jo!

(The only trouble with sleep-overs at Mama Jo's? Anissa wakes up super early and is too excited to go back to sleep. Last night she went to bed at 11 and woke up at 5:30. Result? Post-party meltdown!)

Enthusiasm

Anissa's reaction when we stepped into a bookstore today: jumping up and down (literally), and proclaiming for all to hear, "Books, books, yeah, yeah!".

That would have been enough to make my day (Yeah! My daughter loves books as much as I do!). But then she turned to me and made my week by coming up with a whole new word to describe her feelings: "I'm excited, Mama!"

The little things that make us parents oh so proud...

To Nap or Not to Nap

Anyone who knows Anissa knows that sleep is her biggest enemy. Mehdi and I (but mostly the I - I'm the one who has the most to lose, after all) have been debating for months whether she's ready to cut out naps altogether. I don't love the idea of giving up that afternoon break (or time to wash the floors, scrub the tub, watch Oprah, etc), but on the other hand I love the idea of her going to bed earlier than 11. Most days that she skips her nap, she gets a little crabby but nothing I think (thought?) I can't handle. Until today! WHOA! From about 5 until we managed to get her to sleep at 8, Anissa was a grizzly bear. Impossible to please. I'm so exhausted at this moment that I'm thinking, "It's so not worth it, that girl needs to nap!" Talk to me tomorrow, though, when she's up and ready to party at 10:30 because of a nice afternoon snooze.

The key to all this, we suspect, probably lies in getting her up earlier in the morning. Damn.

Anyway, here's some good news: the little grizzly bear slept all night last night in her new captain's bed! There was no usual 5:30 a.m. pitter-patter of feet as she came into our room (but of course I woke up every 15 minutes listening for it). I promise to post a photo of her in her nice new bed (probably not sleeping though ;) that Memere and Pepere bought and Papa worked soooo hard to assemble in the next few days.

At the Drive-In

Who are these fellows? They are the captive audience for a screening of a "Gaga (aka Dora) movie" that Anissa begged for tonight. It was not, she insisted, for her own entertainment but for theirs.

Her knowing little wink says it all: "You're such a sucker, Mommy!"

Random Thoughts by Anissa

A few recent conversations with Anissa I'd like to remember:

Me: Do you want to take your bag with some toys to the park?
Ana: (puts bag over her shoulder) I need money.
Me: You need money? Why? We're going to the park.
Ana: No, shopping.
Me: Oh, really. What do you want to buy?
Ana: Uhhhh...a dolphin.
Me: You want to buy a dolphin? I don't know if you can, my sweet.
Ana: A toy one.
(She repeated this same conversation a few days later, but insisting that she wanted to buy a dolphin FOR ME! How thoughtful, I must say.)

This one took place in the park at Mariella's birthday party. She wanted me to push her on the swings, but I was finishing off some pasta salad.
ME: Sorry, honey, but I want to finish my lunch. Natasha made this very delicious pasta salad.
Ana: No Natasha made it. Anissa made it.
Me: Really? You made this? When did you do that?
Ana: Mmmmmmmm....Mommy sleeping!
(Well, she has taken to sleep-walking lately, so who knows what she's been up to. I certainly wouldn't mind if I'd wake up to fresh-baked bread one day!)

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree

I recently wrote about Anissa inheriting my dirt denial. Well today I discovered that she takes after Mehdi in a most unfortunate way: she has an extremely low tolerance for window shopping. (Mehdi is famous for his impatience in any kind of shopping situation. Just ask his mom about the time her made her cry at IKEA. I'm a witness.) We were at the pool late this afternoon, and the only way I could entice Anissa to leave was by convincing her I needed her help to do the grocery shopping. I needed her to help me, I insisted, find the raisin bread and a nice juicy mango. I managed to get her out of the pool and into the stroller without too much of a scene. The moment we got through the grocery store door, though, and I stopped to peek into the cheese cooler, I realized I was in trouble. She gave me a stern look and protested with, "Risin bed! Maggo!". I tried to explain that we needed some feta, but there was just no talking to the girl. She reminded me of what we had come for the entire time I was trying to shop for dinner, just like Mehdi reprimanding me for browsing in the curtain section at Canadian Tire when we'd gone to buy a tank of propane for the BBQ. And just like her Papa, Anissa was satisfied only when the necessary items were purchased and the store doors closed behind us. (But I did have to bribe her with a snack...just like her Papa.)

"Roughing" It

Another fabulous weekend! We went luxury camping (in a fully-equipped chalet) about an hour north-east of Montreal with a whole gang of friends. That many families with that many kiddos could have resulted in complete pandemonium, but everything worked beautifully. We hung out on the beach, went for peddle-boat rides, tackled the coolest obstacle course and ate way too much. Needless to say, Anissa thought she had discovered utopia. My heart nearly broke, though, on Sunday morning when, just after waking, I asked her if she remembered where she was and she replied (with such joy and enthusiasm), "Ana's new house!". You see, I've been trying to prepare her for our big move to New Hampshire by talking about our new house and showing her photos, telling her about all the fun she will have in "Ana's new house". I hope she's not too disappointed when she really moves and discovers that all her best buddies won't be living in the new house with her, and that the new house doesn't have a beach right out back.

Maybe someone should be preparing me for this move!

Ode to a Friendship

Tomorrow is Anissa's best friend Lala's birthday (her party, anyway), and I've been just dying for an excuse to post some photos of the two rugrats and their antics. Today at the mall, they had fun tickling each other's belly buttons while Natasha tried on dresses, and then they competed to eat the biggest chunk of ice cream at a time (most of which ended up on the floor...or their chins).




















The most unusual adventure they shared recently, though, was a few days ago when they....drumroll please... ACTUALLY HAD A NAP AT THE SAME TIME IN THEIR STROLLERS! Only Natasha and I can fully appreciate the magnitude of this event. We celebrated with iced lattes and a conversation that was not interrupted, not even once, to hand out an umma/nana (snack to the rest of us).