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).

The little lady does brunch

Only a handful of weekends left for our little family in Montreal, so we're living it up. This weekend was one non-stop party: Clara's birthday bash (face painting! hot dogs!), a big-people get-together at our house for Natasha and Laurel's birthday while Anissa had a sleep-over at Mama Jo's, then Sunday brunch at Chateau Vaudriel with the Tunisian Ambassador (followed by a BBQ at Lala's house). What will I always remember from this weekend? Anissa's new outside voice. Let me explain.

Anissa was a little keyed up by the time Sunday brunch came, and having a hard time sitting still in the restaurant. I was trying my best to keep her happy, but even the biggest pink balloon I have ever seen would not keep her in her high chair. The buffet at the 5 star Chateau was apparently nothing compared to the pasta and peas she loves, so she wasn't eating (until she discovered the chocolate fountain, that is). She was far more interested in yelling. And not just yelling for yelling's sake, but in order to communicate anything she wanted to tell us. (I guess she felt that she had to drown out the roaming musicians playing the violin). She yelled for more bread. She yelled for water, she yelled that there were flowers outside and that the sky was blue. Each time, I quietly explained to her that there are inside voices and outside voices, blah blah blah. It had no effect.

Now, I know that the Ambassador (a friend of Mehdi's Mom) is a nice, down-to-earth man. But I'm just a country bumpkin from the northern Albertan bush, and can't help be a little intimidated by the words "Ambassador" and "chateau". So imagine how I felt when my little angel crouched down near the table to do her business and yelled (her loudest yet), that she was making a HOLY POOP! A BIG HOLY POOP! I whisked her away to the bathroom quick, and gave her a very firm speech about really really having to learn to use her inside voice. That when we are outside, we can yell anything we want to, but inside we might disturb others with our noise. Finally, she really seemed to listen to me. Proof came soon enough.

As soon as we stepped out the doors for a stroll in the gardens, this deep, from-the-gut scream came out of my little girl's 30-pound body. For a brief second, I panicked, thinking something was horribly wrong. But when I looked at her and saw her pleased expression, then heard the succession of loud "AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!"s, I realized that she was doing what I told her to do: yelling all she wanted to once outside.


Mmmmm, chocolate...



(Anissa during a more dignified moment at the Chateau...)

That's My Girl

I've discovered that Anissa has inherited something from me: dirt denial. She found a cracker on the floor in her room yesterday and was about to eat it when I told her that it was dirty and she should throw it in the garbage. A few minutes later when I noticed it was no longer in her hand, I asked her if she ate it. She looked guilt-stricken, then shook her head and explained, "That no dirty." She repeatedly defended herself over the next hour, telling me again and again that the cracker was "no dirty, keen". And that was just the beginning. Since then, she has been telling me that everything I suggest might need washing (her hands, her face, the table) is "no dirty" or anything that she shouldn't touch (garbage in the park, a dirty diaper) or eat (anything on the floor/ground) is "no dirty"either. It's a little frustrating having to convince her otherwise. But then again dirt denial works great for me. How else would I be able to spend a day in the park with all those dirty dishes by the sink?

The Blues

See that blue cat to the right of Anissa's head in the photo? That is the official mascot of the Montreal Jazz Fest, and he left quite an impression on her today. We walked downtown with her pals Mariella, Zach and Chloe (oh, and their Moms too) to check out the kids show at the fest, and after some initial hesitation Anissa fell head over heels for that big blue furry cat. So much so that she would not, could not, get over his disappearance at the end of the show. She whined and wailed all through lunch, ""Kitty cat! Kitty cat! I wanna see kitty cat!" We missed the bus I had hoped to catch home, and Anissa continued to express her pain for the entire one hour walk home. I was about to lose my mind (the human brain can only take hearing "kitty cat" so many times) when we arrived at La Fontaine park. Whole fields of clover were there, and the occasional rare dandelion, just waiting to be picked. And that's what helped Ana get over her hurt.




















She picked flower after tiny flower, tucking them into my pockets, the stroller pouches, my bag, any space she could find until, miraculously, the precious "kitty cat" was forgotten.

Until we got home, that is...

Lesson Learned

There is a little girl in this house who has trouble with sharing. Like most toddlers, it pains her to watch other kids touch her things: her ball, her sand toys, her doll house, her Caillou doll, etc etc. Needless to say, she gets the occasional lecture on the subject. This very same little girl also hates, hates, hates getting her teeth brushed. The Barney toothbrush I bought her didn't ease her pain, but lately the reward of a sticker to post on a chart on the fridge has been helping a little. Imagine my surprise when, this morning, she displayed a shocking level of maturity:

This little girl, the one who doesn't like to share or have her teeth brushed, was watching me brush my teeth and actually requested that I brush her teeth too! Then, to add to my amazement (and delight), she explained her sudden change of heart: "Mama should share!".

Happy (belated) Canada Day!

from two worn-out party-goers...