A decade ago right now, Mommy and I were preparing to go to Foothills Medical Centre. There, Mommy would have a caesarian section and you would be pulled forth into this world — not of woman borne! — with your arm draped around your neck like a feather boa, safe and sound.
Well, mostly. That whole anti-K thing and all, as we remind you of every now and then. Which is almost a bizarre parallel to today: almost immediately after you were born, the doctors wanted to whisk you away to the NICU to ensure that the anti-K situation wasn’t affecting your health. You were isolated.
Ten years later, you’re isolated again. This time, none of our doing (biological or otherwise), but because of COVID-19. You’re spending your birthday apart from nearly everyone but your family.
Continue reading “Healthy 10th Birthday, Choo Choo!”
I’m having some serious trouble, Choo Choo. You’re five. FIVE. You’ve hit that penultimate step from wee babe to being a grade-schooler (the last, obviously, is going to Kindergarten; at least we have a few months before that).
But still, five.
Continue reading “Happy 5th Birthday, Choo Choo”
Well, Choo Choo, today I’m having a “last” moment. Today was your last full day as a three year-old. Tomorrow is your birthday. Tomorrow, you turn four.
And I will miss you being three immensely. You are my last three year-old.
Continue reading “Goodbye, my lovely three year-old”
It’s one of those funny things you sometimes run into as a parent. In one moment, you’re nearly panicking at the seemingly rapid passage of time, that your tiny infant is suddenly racing around the house, reading books far too advanced for her age, and threatening to debate logical positivism. Then you look down and see that one child is adorably cute and had been so for, also seemingly long, forever.
Today, dear Choo Choo, you turned 3. And while the world seems to be spinning around me beyond my control, you sit there at the centre of the storm, giggling and playing and singing songs and making faces and smiling, smiling, smiling. Oh, how I cannot believe how much happier my life is when I get a big hug from you.
Like this morning, when you got up…
Continue reading “Happy 3rd birthday, Choo Choo!”
Where once there was one,
Now there are two.
But the patterns remains the same.
Wakened by one, though with hugs from both.
We sit. We eat. We chat.
Stories, changing of clothes and preparing for the day.
Please, just let Mommy sleep a little while longer.
“Daddy, you going work?”
“But I miss you!”
Prometheus brought fire to man
And endured the eagle every day.
My heart faces the same eternity of destruction and healing
For everyday that I must leave.
Hugs. A kiss. A moment of love.
It is a fleeting moment, like your innocence
Too soon gone.
It’s a lonely trek away from you
Each step an ache
A string strung too far
Desperate to break.
Days are long
Time is short
You grow up too fast
Suddenly, another year passes
What did I miss?
I miss you. Every day.
I hate to leave you in the morning.
Kids, we missed the Calgary Stampede this year. That was partly intentional, to be honest. Yes, it was the 100th anniversary, and Choo Choo was old enough to actually do some of the things there, but … well, it was kind of crazy this year, and maybe the 101th anniversary won’t be quite so crazy. And you’ll be older, and slightly more … how can I put this? … controllable.
That said, you both like rides, Monkey especially. (We found that out last year.) So denying you two a trip to an amusement park, especially during what’s turning out to be Calgary’s best summer in a long time, is just plain criminal. So with Mommy’s acquired coupons, we packed you up, dragged out Grandpa, and all headed to Calaway Park.
In a word? “WHEEEEEEEE!”
Continue reading “A walk in the (amusement) park”
Well, kids, this vacation is certainly having some ups and downs. I’m taking that as a good thing, by the way, since without variation things can get a little dry. That’s also a joke, incidentally — “dry” isn’t a concern around here. It’s rained every day so far (we have thunderstorms as I’m writing this), and not far away, flooding is so bad that highways are being washed out.
Continue reading “Vacation 2012, Day 2.5”
You’re both sleeping right now. Soundly so. You’ve both had a big, exciting day, and I’m frankly amazed you made it as long as you did. You normally don’t pack this much into a few days, let alone a few hours.
We’ll see how you do for the next few days…
Continue reading “Vacation 2012, Day 1”
Dear Monkey and Choo Choo,
Yesterday, I worked from home. This is not the first time I’ve done so. The reasons for working from home are also largely irrelevant. The point is that I was there, even though I really wasn’t. I was working, which means my mind is elsewhere.
For you, I was home. This “working” thing doesn’t make any sense to you, nor should it. I was at home; that’s all that matters to you. So you did what you should be doing when I’m at home:
Daddy, I[‘m’] hungry.
Daddy, [can you] read [this] story [to me]?
Daddy, can you take me around the block on my bike?
Daddy, come play!
Instead of “yes”, which is what you expected, you heard me say “no”, and far too often, angrily. And for that, I apologise. You shouldn’t have had to deal with me like that. I made you cry a couple of times, Choo Choo, for you understand the least. You know when I leave in the morning, I’m going to “work”. Even though I know you don’t really know what “work” means, you know I’m not at home. Lately, this elicits:
I[‘ll] miss you.
See daddy’s heart. See daddy’s heart shatter into a million pieces. See daddy cry as he watches his kids’ lives slip from his fingers.
So I’m going to make a deal with you. I know you’ll accept, so this is more kicking myself in the butt to make sure I do it. I will never work from home again. That means that if I am at home, and you’re awake, I’m yours. If it’s a “normal” work day, I’ll shift my hours to a time when you’re asleep. If I’m at home, we do what you want to do. We play, we read, we go for walks.
Because I can’t bear to say “no” anymore to the things that matter to you.
Happy 2nd birthday, my dear Choo Choo!
It’s almost impossible to believe you been with us only two years, you shining little light. Two short — and somehow, impossibly long — years ago, you found yourself suddenly freezing, weighed, and then set upon by a dozen doctors and nurses who were all convinced you were not exactly in the best of health. To see you running around today, inhaling chocolate cupcakes like they were air … well, if anything, I’d suspect those doctors would feel proud you’ve turned out so well.
Goodness knows I am, kiddo.
Continue reading “Happy 2nd birthday, Choo Choo!”