Friday, October 18, 2013

Seven Quick Takes: Vol. 7

Summary: Kids, coffee, books and blogs. Enjoy other quick takes over at Jen's.


I love how my kid's minds work.

Patrick said to Joseph this morning, "Dad, I imagine things in the dark, but I don't imagine things in the light, because the imagine-y things just disappear when the light is on, because it burns their eyes."

This, you should know, is after a night of Patrick imagining himself some scary things several times throughout what was already a pretty sleepless night for Joseph and I.  Joseph spent breakfast time talking to Patrick about his room being the same in the dark and the light, and that the dark is actually a great thing that helps you to get a good night's sleep.  A night light might be in order, but we live in the city, and don't have blackout curtains, so I feel like it is never really dark enough for one.

On another day, Patrick looked up at me and said, very earnestly, as if this was the most important thing I'd hear all day, "Mom, big and small are the opposite of red."

I laughed a lot, I'll admit. He then joined me, saying, "Mom, am I hilarious?"
I did eventually remind him what opposites are.

I enjoy so much just hearing his theories on his little reality.  Although I'm really not sure why he persists in thinking that women (yes, women specifically!) should not use tools, because they're dangerous.


I'm starting to feel a bit crazed when it comes to this pregnancy.  My "already sleepless night" mentioned above, is becoming a common problem.  I'm waking for 1-2 hours each night to lay there simultaneously trying not to wake Joseph, and to seek out a comfortable position.  I wrenched my hip on Tuesday, rescuing Carter from certain death-by-grocery-cart while carrying 10 kg (22 ish lbs) of flour.  Ridiculous I know. You're all like, "Why on earth were you carrying 10 kg of flour?!"

Well, typically when I'm 7 months pregnant, I'd ask some kind soul to help me, or just slide my cart over and slide the flour on, as best I can.  But as with most of my grocery store trips, this one was fraught with peril, and so of course, there was someone I can only describe as slightly oblivious and inconsiderate parked right in front of the flour.  When I asked if I could squeeze in to grab some flour, she moved her cart over diagonally, giving me 2 feet (incidentally blocking another shopper from getting down the aisle) which allowed me to bend awkwardly beside it to get my flour and carry it back to my cart.  If not for the other shopper, I'd probably have been like, "I'm going to need a little more room," and pointed to my obvious pregnant belly.  This person did not remove her eyes from the label on the pie-filling even once.

It was at this moment, that Carter decided to figure out how to get out of the child-safety belt in the cart, and stand up, leaning out to reach for cupcake sprinkles. I turned awkwardly and grabbed him with one arm before he took a nosedive onto the concrete.  Pie-filling woman still continued to try to decide between pumpkin and cherry.

As much as this woman (whom I saw two more times, blocking aisles and pretending to be the only person in the store) bothered me, the pain in my hip and back pretty well engulfed the train of thought for the rest of the trip.

I keep telling myself this pregnancy pain, caused by quick natural body changes to prepare for the birth, are actually a good thing. It means my ligaments are loosening, and my body is doing what it is supposed to do to facilitate getting the baby from inside me to outside me.  I'm taking care of myself most of the time - light exercise (which I abhor, but do just because I know it will be easier on me in the end), nutritious food, lots of water, and naps.  I am told I look good too, which is either husband and friends being supportive, or there's some mysterious pregnancy pheromone that causes my dark circles and blotchy skin to look like some sort of ethereal beauty - or maybe my lip gloss and mascara are just that good.


You should check out this site:  Notes To My Sisters.

 Craig Lodge - Oh my heart.  I had lovely, healing chats with Jesus here.
It contains posts from a variety of people, all seeking to express their faith.  I was honoured when Margaret, the mastermind behind the site asked me if I'd also write something.  My piece about the spiritual life within the vocation of motherhood will be up next week.

I met Margaret almost 8 years ago at a beautiful place called Craig Lodge in Dalmally, Scotland.  We've kept in touch loosely through social media. Apparently she reads and likes my blog, and since I've often thought of her as one of those people whose friendship you hope to have, but it never quite happens due to life circumstances (like not seeing or speaking directly to one another for 7 years), that is really awesome for me.


I'm reading this book at the moment.  A friend recommended it to me, and I'm about 11 pages from being finished.  Reading parenting books is a bit of a masochistic hobby that I'll freely admit to.  I really liked this one, though there are of course, some things I wouldn't take on board.

For example, the "wisdom of French parenting" apparently doesn't include breastfeeding as a priority for infants, despite clear research and recommendations that it really is healthy and good for a year or longer.
I'm not one of those who thinks breastfeeding is the be-all-end-all, defining factor for infant health and mother-child bonding, but if it's possible to breastfeed, it just makes logistical sense.  If I make milk for my babies, why go out and spend a fortune buying something else?

That was my main beef with the book. Otherwise, there are a lot of interesting principles I think our family would benefit from, like teaching patience by making children wait and fostering autonomy in allowing and teaching children to do more on their own.

This book made me feel less crazy for allowing my 3-year-old to cut vegetables with a (gasp) sharp knife, or letting the kids run ahead of me on our walks to the park.


It became apparent yesterday how much money I have been spending in Starbucks since it began to get cold, when Patrick said to me, upon seeing Starbucks across the street, "Lets go to Starbucks and get some caramel apple spice," and Carter chimed in, "Yeah!"  Then later, Patrick told Joseph that Starbucks was "his coffee place, and Tim Horton's was (Joseph's) coffee place."

It seems whenever I have any small change or cash in my wallet, it becomes designated as coffee money, usually Starbucks.  It has become more of a habit than an occasion. And though I'm not in danger of breaking us financially, I am beginning to think we could allocate the $5-$10 weekly to say, baseboard for the kitchen.

In my attempts to save some coin, but still enjoy my fall traditions - I've been experimenting with homemade versions of pumpkin spice latte.  This morning's was a "close, but no cigar," despite the poster of the recipe proclaiming that it was "better than Starbucks."  

It was still good - and a bit of a change-up from Joseph's lovely, strong, french-pressed coffee - which he didn't have time to make today.

Anyone have a good recipe?


I mentioned last 7QT thatI made a spiritual breakthrough after going to confession.  Well this week I took on a small faith study with some other women.  Talk about filling a craving! Our first little session was pretty eye-opening.  There are still thoughts rolling around in my head that I have to make sense of, but the point is, I feel like I'm on a great journey back to spiritual health.


I'm writing a book!  Well, I've been writing it for awhile now.  It's a children's book - and its first draft is about half-finished.  I was inspired by an old truck - who is the main character.  My mom contends that perhaps some of the tenets of the book, having to do with aging, repairing things that are broken, and well, farm trucks are my way of putting how I feel about my Dad, and our life when he was alive, into something tangible and therapeutic. That is honestly part of it - but I'm hoping the channeling of my raw emotion will help make it something beautiful.

I've written books in my head for my entire life - but not a lot on paper.  To have the confidence to actually type this little story took a lot for some reason, so I'm happy to say that it really is happening.

Any other children's authors out there?

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