Training day

Lauren had her first diaper free day at daycare today - yay! I see the light at the end of the, um, diaper?

She's been in training at home for a while but we decided with the daycare teachers last week that today we'd extend the training at school.  I packed many extra pairs of pants and underwear in case of any accidents, but she made it back home in the same clothing she left with. I'm  so proud. Her'es hoping the rest of the week goes just as well.

Simple pleasure #4

Sitting in the passenger seat while my husband drives.

HVAC guy continued. And other stuff

My favourite HVAC guy came today to replace the furnace ventor motor. He had metioned last year that it sounded loud (which it did) and finally made a call to the manufacturer during his last check-up to see if it was still under warranty. Luckily it is was (until December of this year), so all we paid for was labour.

He managed to do the job in half an hour (half the original estimated time) so in the end we paid $45.  Yay! And what a difference. C turned on the furnace after dinner and I could barely hear it.

I love it when home service maintenance calls go as planned.

C also made an appointment to get our eaves checked out. The one running along the side of the house is leaking in a major way so we'd like to get it patched up before winter. Seems like the neighbour would like it too. I can't blame them as I'm sure they don't appreciate the puddle of standing water that accumulates between our houses after each rainfall.

Anyway, the eaves person is scheduled to come for an estimate on Monday afternoon.

Mashed potato meltdown

C committed a major faux pas this evening by serving mashed potato on the same plate as Lauren's meat balls and tortilla. Big mistake.

The plate is one of those kid friendly sectional kinds so the food items weren't even touching, but it didn't matter. Lauren took one look and burst into a screeching fit. She tends to do this when food that she doesn't like shares the same space as food she does like. We've told her countless times to just eat what she wants and leave the rest, but she'll just refuse to eat anything until the offending food is removed.

I eventually got a new plate and transferred everything minus the mash, but I'm not sure this is the right thing to do. Does this teach her that she can screech to get her way at the dinner table? How will she discover new foods if she won't even accept it being on her plate?

I don't like the "eat this or nothing" approach because Lauren doesn't have a big appetite to begin with. Not that I think she'll starve herself, but pasta again is better than nothing, right? Plus we've tried that approach a few times which resulted in her waking up at all hours of the night because of hunger. At 4am the only thing I have the energy to serve is cereal.

"Be persistent" is the phrase I hear over and over again when it comes to kids eating. Well, being persistent ain't easy, but I'll try.

Unmentionables

This is too funny not to share.

I was in my bedroom yesterday sorting through laundry while Lauren was occupying herself by buzzing around and fiddling with whatever she could get her hands on.

She eventually grabbed my bra, hung one strap around her neck and lifted her shirt over one of the cups then delared proudly, "Look Mommy, I have boobies like you!"

Remembering Grandpa

Lauren never got to meet my dad. Unfortunately he passed away on this day in 2007, just a few months before she was born. Considering the nature of his illness, I can't be sure that he knew she was on her way. But somehow I think deep down he did.

I’m fortunate though, to be left with so many great memories of him to pass along. He was a kind, patient and hands-on kind of parent. He never passed up a request to go for a bike ride or play a board game, or help with my homework, and he always made an effort to listen to what I had to say despite the bustle of a busy dinner table. He loved good conversation and I have no doubt that he and Lauren would have gotten along famously.

When my sisters and I were little, he would take us for walks through the wooded trails of the provincial park that was close to our home. We enjoyed the activity, but it wouldn’t take long for tiredness to set in. At least for me and my little legs. Just at the point when I felt I couldn’t go on, we’d take a break and he’d reach into his coat pocket and pull out a chocolate bar for us to share. It was like magic.

I hope to be as good a parent to my daughter as he and my mom were to me. I’ll do my very best to teach her to enjoy life and to be true to herself and caring towards others.

This evening I’ll pull a chocolate bar out of my pocket for us to share as we walk together and remember Grandpa.

Biker mom

As Lauren and I were walking from the daycare playground this evening, a family came up behind us. "Where's your bike?" the dad asked. It took me a moment to register that he was talking to me. "It was raining this morning so I left it at home today." I replied. He and his wife nodded in acknowlegment. I've never spoken to this family before but I've seen them around the neighbourhood, and they've obviously seen me.

And there you have it. I am officially recognized as the mom with the bike. It's not the riding of the bike that's so special, but the action of me pushing the bike and the stroller with Lauren sitting in it at the same time. Because I ride my bike to and from work most days, the best technique to manage the last few minutes of the way from daycare to home is with stroller on my left and bike on my right. They're all on wheels so it's really not at all as awkward as it may seem, but it sure attracts a lot of attention from passers by.

I've been doing this simultaneous bike and stroller push for over a year now and still hear comments from people asking how I manage. "You sure have your hands full!" Or, "Wow, how are you doing that?!" I often get offers from people who want to help. A few months ago a woman riding by on a tandem bike stopped to ask if I was interested in a child bike seat. I had considered a bike seat before I came up with this push technique, but decided against it. Traffic is too busy where I live and if I were ever to get bumped by a car, Lauren would go down with me and I'm not willing to take that risk.

It makes me happy to know that there are so many thoughtful people in the neighbourhood, but to be honest, the best help is to stay out of my way. I just need a clear path down the sidewalk and I'm good to go.

Still, for all the attention, wanted or not, and the 10 minutes it takes to push us home, it's worth it to be outdoors on my bike.

Death of a waffle iron

I love my waffle iron, but I don't think it loves me anymore.

C and I put it on our wedding registry all those years ago as a fun to have item, and were delighted when we discovered that one of our friends had purchased it for us. We enjoyed many weekend waffle brunches that year until the day that I accidently snapped off the plastic on/off knob that also regulates the temperature setting.

I tried to glue it back on but that didn't work. I figured I could still turn the metal switch that the knob was attached to with my fingers, but quickly learned that the metal switch gets too hot to handle with bare fingers. I tried oven mitts but they were too stubby, and poking a pair of metal tongs at it just seemed like a bad idea.

It would have been a shame to throw the whole thing away, the iron itself still worked after all, so I packed it up in its box with the intention of fixing it when a better idea came along.

3 years have gone by since then and I still haven't found a solution, but I haven't yet given up. This past weekend my sister and her family came to spend the night so I took this as motivation to prepare a fun and filling breakfast menu. In the morning there would be waffles for everyone, knob of not.

I figured that if I pre-set the temperature when it was unplugged, all I'd have to do is plug it in and add the batter when the iron got hot. What I forgot, unfortunately, is that there is a technique to waffle making that involves the perfect ratio of batter, temperature and timing.

The instant I lowered the lid steam billowed from the seams and hot batter oozed out and down the front and sides of the appliance and all over the kitchen counter like molten lava. I quickly moped up as much as I could making sure to keep it from dripping into the exposed knob area and electricals. I then tried to open the lid but it was fused shut. Even my brother-in-law couldn't pry it open and managed to snap a wooden spoon in the process. I finally unplugged it so the batter wouldn't char and cause a fire.

When the iron cooled enough to be handled my brother-in-law gave it a good tug and finally got the lip open. Batter was burnt and crusted onto the waffle grooves. I started to the scrape off what I could, but this was going to be a big clean up job. With 5 hungry people hovering in the kitchen and a big bowl of batter waiting to be cooked there was no time to scrape, so I took out my trustee frying pan and went to work. That morning there would be pancakes for everyone.

I haven’t touched the waffle iron since then. I think it still needs time to cool off – a “time out” as Lauren would say. Maybe it was trying to tell me to leave it alone. Maybe the knob can’t be fixed and I should just throw it away. But somehow I don’t think so. I think after a little love and attention and after the crusted batter has been removed, we can enjoy our weekend waffle brunches again someday.

Note to self: cycling in the rain

Note to self: buy fenders for the bike.

Also, buy appropriate rain gear. Arriving home in sopping wet clothing and dirty from tire spray is really no fun anymore.