Hope this work...

It would seem that the great Chinese cyber-wall won't allow direct
access to blogger, so we're trying the email method. That means these
posts are a bit a shot in the dark, since I don't know if they'll
actually post. The photos will also be a little random, but beggars
can't be choosers. Perhaps someone out there would be kind enough to
send us an email to let us know whether these are indeed getting
through (9 wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Beijing is much as I remember it, and yet somehow different.

The first real difference I noticed was that we didn't need to wade
into the great human river at the Beijing airport. In fact, arriving
here felt no different than any other international airport - people
milling about, some holding signs, others obviously scanning the crowd
for a particular person. Nothing like the crushing wall of humanity
that greeted us on our last arrival.

Having chased, but failed to catch any sleep on the plane, my mind was
pretty much mush for most of the ride from the airport. Our guide –
Lyli – is originally from Hunan Province and actually has a 20 year
old son studying math in California. She was instantly smitten with
Kiyomi and has been fussing and spoiling her with attention and
helping her gather little flowers for an ever expanding collection
(which, come to think of it, are all amassed on Obaajan's jacket
pocket.) I can happily say between Obaachan and Lily, Kiyomi is in
far better hands than she's ever been with us!

I recognized the neighbourhood we're staying in instantly, but was
shocked to see an entire city block reduced to rubble. On our first
trip here, this block had little shops and we saw our first Peking
duck hanging from windows. Now, it is literally a pile of rubble
behind construction walls. Evidence of the speed, strength and
rapidity of change in China.

Kiyomi crashed hard in the bus from the airport and so was raring to
go once she dropped the nap fog that inevitably hits after any nap.
This morning, she announced out of the blue - "Come on guys, today's
going to be a fun day!" I think that girl has travelling in her blood.

Friday morning was some wandering – getting our bearings. Being in a
familiar environment was helpful for tackling the jetlag fog, although
being up early, we also found ourselves trapped in the upscale
Oriental Plaza as many of the doors hadn't opened yet. We managed to
escape when a local woman took pity on us poor wandering, bewildered
foreigners and led us to the nearest exit. You'd think if we got in,
it wouldn't have been that hard to get out... but you'd be wrong.

Friday afternoon, we headed to Beihai (which from what I understood
from our guide means "no sea") Park – a large park on the west side of
the Forbidden City. The White Pagoda – a shrine built in the Yuang
Dynasty – is the centerpiece of the park and provides wonderful views
of the city. Although we couldn't get all the way to the top, the
temples and grounds were beautiful and blessedly only moderately busy
by Beijing standards. Tucked in a corner of the park is a massive
jade cauldron which was used as a wine vessel by Kublah Khan himself.
Pretty amazing to lay your eyes something so old and steeped in
history that the Mongol leader himself laid hands on it.

No set plans for tomorrow – perhaps a little shopping for kid things –
but for now sleep awakes. Jetlag is really kicking my butt, so I only
managed to sleep until about 4 this morning. Have managed to force
myself to stay awake all day – but sounded like I was half baked
while reading Kiyomi's bedtime story as my eyes fluttered and the
words blurred. Don't ask me what we read, it never even made it into
short-term memory.

Good night, once again from Beijing...

Countdown

There is a really silly dance song going through my head - Tic Tok. I
can't remember who sings it, but it's a dumb song. The chorus,
however, is mesmorizing - "tik toc, don't stop, til you hear your body
rock..." Or something to that effect... Ok, ok, sure she's talking
about being young and stupid and going out to party - but really isn't
that the same thing as hopping a plane to travel half way around the
world to adopt a little boy? It's totally the same, right?! Humour
me...

Certainly resonates with my addled brain at the moment anyway. It's
like temporary attention deficit (or at least I'm hoping it's
temporary) has set in. I can't seem to accomplish the very task that
brought me into any particular room. Oh sure, I get a couple other
things done, but the original task is often left incomplete, if it's
even started at all. For example, at the moment, 1/2 the dishes are
unloaded from the dishwasher, but I'm sitting here typing because it
dawned on me that I needed to make sure I could test a post to blogger
over email. It's also taken me about 20 minutes to write these fews
lines because I've thus far - watered the plants, started the laundry
and then checked why the washer was making that weird sound. And of
course, I had to bring in the mail when I glimpsed the mailman out the
window. Of course, when I came down the stairs, I had intended to
head straight out the door to run a couple errands.

In the interest of getting this post finished, I'm ending it before I
leave it too half finished. Attaching a couple of recent pictures as
a way of testing the theory blogger will post photos that you include
as attachments - of course, if they don't appear, you have no way of
knowing whether it's because it didn't work or I forgot to post them
or I just messed it up. The sad part, is likely, neither will I.
Sigh...

More than the sum of their parts

I've been thinking about loss a lot lately . I know, it's an odd thing to be thinking about on the cusp of joining our son. But really, it is because we are about to adopt our son that these things have come to mind. There is always a mix of emotions on the precipice of parenthood - joy, anxiety, elation, fear - but adoption brings something different to the table.

You see, in order for adoption to occur, children have to endure unimaginable loss. Yes, there is much to be gained, but the losses are equally great. Loss is a part of life, and we all experience it in some form or another. But, for adopted kids, it's front end loaded. Before Kiyomi reached her first birthday, she had lost a birth family, a foster family, a culture, a country, a life history and a way of life. Yes, she gained a family that belongs to her no matter what, a new country, new opportunities and the unconditional love and support of a stable and constant family. But she gave up much too. And we saw the effect that the loss had on her - we watched a vibrant little girl shut down into herself in order to cope with the momentus loss. We were lucky, and slowly, we saw her re-emerge. First with little smiles and giggles, then with full body laughs, coy glances, determined stares and all the other things that are so much a part of the little girl we love today.

We can't balance it out the losses and the gains - it's not a ledger sheet. All we can do is acknowledge and respect the loss and make room for it in our family. Ren will be experiencing this same loss before he reaches the age of two. It's alot to ask of anyone, never mind an infant or toddler.

Experiencing this loss, however, does not mean that my children will be forever defined by it. They are more than just adopted. They are Chinese, they are (or will be) Canadian, they are children, they are stubborn, they are active, they are sweet, they are senstive, they are strong AND they are adopted. My children are more than just the sum of their parts and how they deal with their loss will be complex and personal to them. They may be confused, hurt, angry, sad, perplexed, indifferent. They may grieve, act out, search for answers, question, accept or just be. Their losses will be a part of them, but it is not all they are or will ever be. As parents, all we can do is help them negotiate it and provide that unquestioning, unending love and support.

Understanding and believing that joy and happiness can cooexist with loss and grief is part of being an adoptive parent. Making space in our family to mourn the lose and process whatever emotions result will be, for me, an important part of providing my children with the support they deserve. But remembering that they are more than the sum of their parts - there is more to them than their losses - will be integral to helping them build their identies and deal with those losses.

We're only a couple weeks away now from travelling to join Ren. I'm eagerly apprehensive, and I think appropriately so. It's the mark of a parent that our first thoughts turn to our childrens' feelings and well-being. Yes, I'm eager to join Ren and to start our lives together as a family. But, I'm not eager to put Ren through the turmoil and trauma of leaving his foster family and the country of his birth, nor am I eager to turn Kiyomi's world upside down by taking her to the land where she was born and restructuring her place in the family from only child to big sister. These will be hard transitions for our kids. In the long-run, I believe they will be happy and well, but I don't harbour any illusions that our union will be easy on any of us. Will it be joyful? Yes. But this will also be one of those times where happiness will need to coexist, and even intermingle, with pain and loss. And that's ok...

Lest you all think it's all been introspection and worry, here's a collage of the Easter weekend in Toronto with the cousins. There was fun, there was frivolity, there was an Easter bunny and, of course, there was chocolate.

And so it begins

I'll tell you something about waiting - it can be all consuming.

There is something about it that takes over your life. I know it sounds weird to say. I mean, really how can nothing take up your life? If you're waiting, there is no time commitments, no demands, no deadlines. You're just waiting.

The best analogy I can think of is to think back to when you were a kid and you were told you were going to the amusement park or a birthday party or the zoo or anything that would send you into dizzying anticipation. Now, usually there was a wait. A few days, a few hours, a few minutes. Didn't really matter because once you knew, it was all you thought about. You woke up in the morning thinking about it, you brushed your teeth thinking about it, ate your breakfast, played at recess. Oh sure, there were moments of distraction - a fight over marbles, an all consuming game of freeze tag, a trip to the corner store for ice cream. But always, your mind crept back to the amusement park, knowing it was tantalizingly close and yet seemed too far away. It's presence enticed you and frustrated you all at the same time. So much so that even the mention of it was unbearable, even though some part of your brain was permanently fixated on it.

It might surprise some of you to know that waiting can have the same effect on you as an adult. Sure, you can fake it better - you won't stand around the water cooler vibrating with anticipation or tear down the street yelling at the top of your lungs - but the same anticipation bubbles under your skin, commands your brain and pretty much consumes any free head space that is foolhardy enough to remain available. It gets in your head like one of those annoying princess pop songs that seem to float around and come out of your mouth without you even realizing it - without even really realizing it you're walking down the street singing Hannah Montana! Or in our case, you're mentally reviewing the calendar, counting off weeks, playing out possible scenarios. It's maddening.

And so it is with some relief that we can now happily say, WE HAVE FINALLY RECEIVED TRAVEL APPROVAL. Almost 5 months to the day of getting Ren's referral, the next stage of the paperwork came through. What's more, as of today, we now have exactly 5 weeks to get our butts to China. So all those things that I've been putting off because, well it just added to the sense of longing and frustration, now must get done in 5 weeks in addition to all the travel prep. It's a good frantic though, really...

We leave at the end of April, and for the moment, the itinerary has us travelling to Guangxi on the 25th and joining Ren on that same day. As per usual, however, all things are subject to change. However, what is not in doubt is that we are leaving for China at the end of April - tickets have been booked and accommodations are being reserved.

Time has not been standing still of course (although it felt like it at times). We have seen our first unbelievable growth spurt in Kiyomi. She sprouted an inch in a month. Within a few weeks all her pants became capris and her little dresses became long shirts. Not to mention that 'out of reach' has had to be re-evaluated in this house.

Much to her dad's utter delight, Kiyomi has totally taken to winter sports this year. Skating was a particular passion and the canal was a favourite haunt, and not just because of the gooey pastries available ice-side. She went from shuffling along to honest to goodness gliding within a couple skates. In fact, in one instance, she took off down the canal while I was still stuggling to stuff my skate on. Here's a small snippet of what I had to chase with one skate half done-up.

Kiyomi has also taken to skiing with equal enthusiasm. Her downhill lessons were a hit and ended with a bang when the entire ski school dressed in costumes and paraded down the hill on

the final day. She had a blast, especially as she took the class with 3 of her little buddies and they spent every Saturday afternoon tearing up the slopes.

Cross-country hasn't been given short-shrift either, and this season, we ditched the pulk (in large part because neither on of us were willing to tow the 36 pds kid plus the 10 pds sled). Kiyomi was able to ski all the way into the cabins, with some end of ski pole towing.

Pat and Sheila visited us for an all too short weekend visit from the far reaches of Winnipeg. We skied, ate and hit the bird sanctuary - all of which proved to be popular activities.

In a rather momentous occasion, Kiyomi's long-time companion, Elton, got a bath. That bear has been with Kiyomi since the day she arrived in Canada. Elton has been to Chicago, Australia, Japan, California and a few other places, but has never, ever had a bath. No trauma or seperation anxiety ensued, but the smell was way better afterwards.

The parting shot for tonight is a little long, but really, who doesn't love 5 Little Monkeys.

A triple conspiracy

Three developments have conspired this week to bring me to one undeniable conclusion: I am getting older.

Yah, yah, I know it's an obvious assertion, but humour me a little...

The first conspiratorial event is that I hurt my back... while brushing my teeth.

Oh I'd love to be able to say it was the ski on Saturday, or the run on Monday, or the rides on the new trainer last week, but well, it wasn't. Now, in hindsight, I'm sure there was probably some underlying problem that I simply noticed while I was brushing my teeth. In fact, I've periodically felt twinges in my back over the last few months, which I studiously ignored. But, something about the movement of brushing my teeth set it off, and I woke the next morning unable to put on my own socks. Nothing like shuffling to the shower in a full fledged imitation of Quasimodo and having to get your hubby to put on your socks to remind you of the aging process marching forward.

The second is that it is university recruitment week at work. The elevators and halls are filled with young pups fresh out of grad school. They look young, they sound young, heck, they even smell young. They're keen, they're eager and they look like me 20 some odd years ago (although I doubt I was ever that free of cynicism). Reminders of where you once were will definitely spotlight the ravages of time and experience (and make you pine for that nubile innocence (aka naivety) of old).

The last thing is that I picked up a book by Ewan McGregor. Yup, I'm referring to the Scottish actor. The one whose career was kick started by playing a strung out junkie in Trainspotting. Seems old Ewan and a buddy took off to circle the world on motor cycles and managed to write a book about it. I was a young pup myself when Trainspotting came out and watching ol' Ewan in the Star Wars prequels somehow convinced me he was from that older generation. So, it was a shock to learn this week that the guy is actually younger than me. Ok, it's only a year, but he's younger! Someone has to explain to me how Obi Wan can possibly be younger than me!

All this has led to me feeling ... well... older...

Now, why is this an issue, and what is the point of this statement of the obvious? Well, we're about to become the proud parents of a very active toddling boy. We're not starting with a newborn whose primary role for the first few months is to eat, sleep and poop. Our little guy is walking (well running), climbing, jumping and by the sounds of it, raring to go.

And I'm getting older. The bones creek, the joints ache and ibuprofen has become my new best friend. So, the obvious question is: can I keep up? Do I have the energy needed to not only keep up with him, but to help him through the transition, help him deal with the grief, help him adjust to having to leave everything and everyone he's ever known and loved. Can my failing body (and mind some days) be strong enough to let him climb and catch him when he falls, all the while balancing his sister who herself is dancing head long into life?

I guess time will tell...

In the meantime, I have to try to keep up. Not only with a kinder and a toddler, but I have to keep up with them as they get older. I have to take on school agers whose memory and accuity is leagues ahead of mine. I have to survive the teenage years at a point in my life when my own teenage years will be considered prehistoric (aka Madonna in the Sean Penn years). Facing the barrel of that particular canon is daunting in the extreme.

So, what's the answer? There is none. I can't go back in time, and frankly, I don't think I want to. So, I think I'll just focus on the now and let the later work itself out. All that said, if anyone out there has figured out a way to make bifocals look cool and compression stockings sexy, do let me know, cause I'm gonna need it.

The parting shot tonight aims for distinctly not 40! Good night from Ottawa.

Miya can't wait for her cousin to arrive!

Miya wants to visit as often as she can as she doesn't have a brother of her own.

Mika and Kai can't wait to meet Ren

I love the shot of Kiyomi holding Ren's picture. Soon she will be hugging him for real. we're so excited!

"You done yet?"

Eons and eons ago, when I was but a wee lass working my way through the halls of academia, I embarcked on what, in hindsight now, was a foolhardy endeavour.

Yes, it was primarily because after finishing a Masters degree, my employment prospects were only a wiff better than they had been when I proudly strode out of my high school, cap and gown held high. And yes, I still hadn't really figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, so staying in school seemed like the ideal way to continue to find myself. And yes, the very prospect of growing up seemed far too foreign a path to take, so the idea of being an on-going student seemed the perfect compliment to my procrastiting nature.

So, I did it - I signed up for a doctorate. I mean, what better way to keep the world at bay then to spend the next 5 years of my life emersed in some obscure topic that only a handfull of people on the globe had even a modicum of interest in? What was a few more years of keeping the big, bad world out there by holding up my student card as a protective shield (the one I should point out that has no expiry date on it, so technically, I could still use it to get discounts), instead of venturing into it myself? As long as I was still a student, I was still a kid, and there wasn't any reason to 'make something of myself.'

As often happens on these foolhardy endeavours, however, ultimately the real world seeped into my little life mainly because 1) I was tired of keeping the world at bay (real meaning - I was tired of living like a student and eating mac and cheese for dinner every other night) and 2) career prospects staying in academia were frankly not all that interesting (real meaning - the idea of spending the next 10 years chassing the tenure-track brass ring seemed like the emotional equivalent to banging my head against, if not a brick, at least a lego wall). So, I took a real, gown-up paying job, and before I knew it, 5 years became 6, then 7, then 8, and the most constant refrain in my life from family and friends was "Soooo, you done yet?"

What the hooten heck does this have to do with adoption you ask? Well, I bring it up, as there seems to be a recurring theme in my life, rather well summed up with the simple words - "you done yet?" Only now, the refrain is "any word yet?" This comes from the same well meaning family and friends, all of whom are eager and excited for you, and curious to know what's going on. There is love and support and interest and a whole whack of good things in that question. Nonetheless, everytime I hear it, it's like a smack to the back of the head.

All that to say, still no news on when we'll be travelling. We had expected to be in the 'hear any day' territory by now, but it would seem the timelines we'd been given were perhaps not as accurate as all that. We had been told that it would be up to 6 months between referral and travel, but it would seem that some families have had to wait up to 8 months. Before you ask - nope, don't know why and nope, can't do anything to change it.

However, we have been lucky enough to get some updated pictures and information. Seems our little man has gone from active baby to active toddler in the months we've been waiting. It's bittersweet to see these pictures - to learn how much you've missed, but at the same time to see a happy, healthy, smiling face.

We've also been provided with a little more information. He likes his tricycle and apparently, loves music and dancing. We'll have to see whether he takes to skiing with equal enthusiasm.

Thankfully, there are always distractions, and Christmas holidays is always a big one. This year, we headed for the wilds of Thunder Bay where we feasted on the holiday favourites of turkey and perogies. Mmmm ... perogies....

Kiyomi got spoiled rotten by Santa, Nana and a few of the elves as well given the sheer number of presents, and is now the proud owner of a puppet theater, a pirate ship and more princess paraphenalia than in humanely safe.
We had a wonderful opportunity to catch up with family and friends over the holidays. I even managed not to turn into a snarling beast with the numerous (though well intentioned) inquiries about our China plans.

There has been Christmas concerts, cookie making (and eating), tree decorating, a visit with Santa, tracking Santa on the internet and of course a never ending stream of presents. A heart warming (and rather mixed era sight juxtaposed) site was watching Nana, Zufu and Kiyomi snuggled up on the couch alternating between watching the Santa tracker on-line and reading The Night Before Christmas. The highlight of Kiyomi's time in Thunder Bay though was walking the dogs. She loved taking the three of them into the bush behind my aunt and uncle's house and was more excited about the prospect of giving them a treat then pretty much anything else.

We rung (and wrung) in the new year with a visit from Kohji's family and marvelled at the growing numbers. With four lit' uns racing around, the holidays definitely had a different flavour. Ok, maybe the youngest wasn't exactly running yet, but I saw the look in her eyes and she'll be in the thick of the cousin pack any day now.

As for day to day stuff - all is well. Kiyomi is liking JK and all the fixins'. We had our first parent/teacher interview in early December and she's truddling along happily with her peers as far as we can tell. She fits in like a dirty old shirt, even though she's one of only 3 girls in the class. The daycare staff continue to be frighteningly happy and enthusiastic each morning. I don't know how they keep it up, but everyday they treat the kids with warmth and affection. Kiyomi is growing and learning, although we do wished she'd gain those last 3 pounds so we could move her into a booster seat, rather than the dreaded 5 point harness.

Overall, I'd say she's 4 going on 40 with better memory and eyesight and all the charm and attitude that contains. We've learning a few things - if she tells you that you had promised her something, don't argue, she's right. My almost 40 year old brain may have forgotten, but not hers. You can bet that if she tells you she sees a bird, a plane, a red car, a whatever, don't tell her that she's mistaken, because she's right. My favourite thing of late though is hearing her tell me about her dreams or listening to her tell a story - both are always vivid and funny and likely show me that she catches on to way more than I give her credit for.

The parting shot for tonight is Kiyomi's Christmas gift from all the gals at the daycare. Far too sweet for their own good I tell ya. Good night from Ottawa.

The letter

If you could write a letter to your child before they arrived in your life, what would you say? Is there anything that you could say that would provide them comfort for the events that are about to unfold? Are there words that would soothe their fears? Calm their little hearts as everything they've ever known is about to change?

It dawned on me today that, yet again, adoption has some similarities to childbirth. I wonder what biological parents would tell their littles ones as they faced the start of life and an arrival into a completely different world from the one they've always known. Is it really that different?

In the end, it probably is, as we have a tendency to believe that consciousness begins at birth. But what if we could get a message in-utero. What could possibly be said so that the little one would feel a little less afraid when the world goes topsy turvey?

It's been almost two months since THE call, and I'd like to be able to report we have more information about Ren and when we might be able to be united with him. I'd like to, but I can't. I can say that all the paperwork that needs to get done is done - all the letters written, forms signed, signals signaled. Yes siree, all the t's are dotted and i's are crossed and so... we wait.

We're still expecting a travel date sometine in February or March. I'm hopeful that we'll get actual travel dates in time and that Chinese New Year (which is on February 14th this year), doesn't delay things, but that's pretty much all there is to say about that.

We are, as you might have guessed from the introductory paragraphs of this post, working on a letter to send to Ren as part of a little care package that we're allowed to send. It has been a task that we relish, but which, no matter what we write seems to fall so far short of what we'd like it to be.

We haven't been standing still waiting though. Life has been adventurous in other areas. In addition to getting ready for and galavating on all Hallow's Eve, we've been adjusting nicely to the kindergarten life and a new daycare. Over the summer, we changed daycares to one in our local school as Kiyomi was graduating and moving into the lofty realms of being a "'kinder". She started in the fall and is settling in well.

Me, not so much. I obviously hadn't truely appreciated how good we had it in the old daycare where there was a full time cook who prepared healthy and yummy lunches and snacks for the kids. Now, it falls to us, and let's just say Kiyomi's nutritional balance is now sorely lacking.

We also spent two weeks galavanting through the wilds of Japan this autumn. And this wasn't any trip for the faint of heart I tell ya. Us and 6 other members of the Suzuki clan took Japan by storm. There was fun, there was frivolity and there was food... lots, and lots, and lots of food. We're still working off the jet-lag, and the food, but things are getting back to some degree of normalcy. The highlights for Kiyomi were Mika, the catbus, Mika, the park, Mika, the mountains, Mika, the acorns. You may be picking up on a theme here.

Oh ya, and if there is an acorn left in Japan, it wasn't from the kids lack of trying to pick up every single stray acorn in the entire country. I kid you not, we came home with a 3 pound bag of acorns collected everywhere from Tokyo to mount Fuji! We have Totoro to blame (for those of you who haven't heard of this mythical creature and it's obsession with acorns, all I can tell you is if you google it, don't let your kids watch it or you will forever spend every nature walk looking for bloody acorns).

The parting shot shows a Canadian girl waiting for a ferry in Tokyo. Good night from Ottawa.

And then there were four

Ni hao,

Some of you will be surprised to hear this, others... not so much....

On Wednesday, September 2nd, we got THE CALL from our adoption agency. Those of you who have been down the road of international adoption know the tenor of "the call". It's a run of the mill day, and you answer the phone, not expecting it to be any different from any other day. Within minutes, your heart stops momentarily, your mind goes blank and you can't think of a damn thing to say to the voice on the other end of the line telling you that that there is a beautiful little person waiting for you half a world away.

Kiyomi, Kohji and I are delighted to introduce our son and brother, Ren Ao-Xiang Miller (currently Min Ao Xiang). Xiang Xiang (we believe it to be pronounced 'Shyang Shyang'), as he is nicknamed, was born on June 8, 2008, making him 15 months old as we write this. He is waiting for us in Qinzhou City, Guangxi Province, in the south of China. By all indications, he is a happy, healthy, active little guy with a mild congenital heart condition. If all goes well, we will be travelling in February or March to meet him, and bring him home.





We're actually still a little shell shocked as we really hadn't expected any word until later in the fall, and international adoption being what it is, we had braced ourselves for an even longer wait. We'll try to post more information as it becomes available.

We're calling him Ren and Xiang Xiang pretty much interchangeably around the house and probably will for the first little while after he comes home so that he hears something familiar.

Kiyomi is ready and waiting for her little brother, although we're sure the reality will not live up to the hype for her as the realization dawns that there is a requirement to share toys and parents with him. In the meantime, we talk about Xiang Xiang, and she assures us that he should sleep on the floor in her room and he can have some of her snack. As a starter, we've changed the name of our blog to make room for little Ren in this small corner of our lives.

So wish us luck as we head down a now familiar, but no less amazing, path to parenthood.


Good night from Ottawa (and good morning from Guangxi)

Princesses?

Alright, I admit it. I don't get it.

I mean, there are some things I get about childhood, some developmental stages that just make sense. But someone, somwhere needs to explain to me what the deal is with the princess thing!

I actually had the audacity to think that I was safe. Those of you out there who know me, will know there ain't a princess bone in my body. I was the kid with the baseball cap who liked to go worm collecting. Oh sure, my mom may tell you about the barbies and the obsession with disco, but I don't think that even she would be able to confess to remembering a princess infatuation.

So, I smugly listened as other parents talked about their daughters being obsessed with castles and dresses and stories of princess' finding their prince. "Not my girl," I would silently sing, "she's into race cars, climbing anything and everything and thought the huge spider that built her web outside our window was really cool." So I was thinking I made it through.

And then, sometime just before Christmas, it started. By January, had totally take hold. Where it came from, how it germinated insideously in my family, I'll never know. But I have to admit it now, my kid has a bad case of princessitis. Yup, loves everything associated with princesses. Now, it's all dresses all the time. Pink, sparkly shoes, tiaras and hoop skirts. One one particularly bright and sunny Saturday afternoon, I found myself shlepping off to Disney on Ice, where two little girls, Kiyomi and her friend, Mara, were rapt by billowy sequines gliding in front of their eyes.

Soooo, now I'm on the hunt for cool princesses. You know, Paper Bag Princess-types. The princesses who trick the dragon, outsmart the witch and save the day. Not that the Sleeping Beauty types aren't worthwhile in their way, but I want a princess modelled after a kick-butt heroine. Someone like Pink - all sass and attitude with a lot of toughness thrown into the mix. So, if you happen to know of any good ones, let me know. Just for a little inspiration, the pics for this post have been intentionally chosen for their distinctly unprincess-like behaviour - or at least not à la princess of Monaco, think more Courtney Love meets Snow White!

I've also been inspired by my blog hero who's launched a Friday Fashion Challenge. She's started a tradition of getting her girls to dress themselves on once a week and has been posting pictures of the fabulous results! I figured I could use a little loosening of the mom-control-freak thing, so weekends are all up to Kiyomi. Here's the last outfit (I particularly like the belt/leggings combo).

The parting shot is a little video of the princess in her element. Hmm, I'm thinking we may have a perfomer on our hands. Figures, what else could we expect with two introverts as parents, someone's gotta carry the conversation at parties. And yes, that is Waltzing Mathilda in the background, for some reason this has been identified as a particularly princessy-like song. Who am I to argue?

Good night from Ottawa.

To kindergarten or not to kindergarten, ceci est la question...

Many of the older European cities have been designed as mazes. They are intricate interplays of criss-crossing streets, with dead ends and round-abouts which leave the average visitor completely confused as to whether they are coming, going or just simply trapped. Least you think this is the result of ancient city planners having too much Italian wine or German beer with the mid-day meal, I assure you it's intentional. The idea, of course, is to ensure that only those who 'belong' know where they are going. Invaders, on the other hand, would fall prey to the maze and find themselves wandering in circles until they too gave up and grabbed for the Italian wine or German beer.

I've decided that modern childcare arrangements are based on an identical philosophy. It's a test. Now I'm not sure if the intention is to weed out the weak or simply to ensure you have sufficiently advanced bureaucratic wrangling skills to belong to the elite group of individuals known as kindergarten parents, but figuring it all out and coordinating care when you have two parents who work full time is akin to counting the stars in the night sky - technically possible, but not likely. Oh, I know, you thought it was as simple as showing up at your local school and registering your kid. Or at least, that's what foolish old me thought until I started making calls and trying to understand the secret handshakes and code words.

The bigger question for me though is: is it worth it? Technically, there is no legal requirement (in Ontario anyway) for kids to go to junior kindergarten.

So, though I haven't really done this on the blog before, today I'm soliciting some opinions. What, in your opinion, are the merits of junior kindergarten? Is it worthwhile? Are there advantages to having your child go to jk in the school you expect her to be at for the next 10 years or so? Is there enough to be gained that's it worthwhile disrupting your family's routine to introduce them to a whole new environment? What exactly, other than socialization, do kids get out of jk or senior kindergarten for that matter?

While we're at it, I'll ask you a uniquely Canada-centric question (as I'm sure the rest of the world doesn't get antsy about such things) - should you take advantage of opportunities for French language education, especially if they're in the neighbourhood? Like many communities in Canada, we have a French and an English school in our neighbourhood. We've heard often from other parents about how important exposing them to French is, but I'm not sure I've ever been around to hear why it's important. Any thoughts out there?

Speed demon

Most parents expend a certain degree of brain power imagining what their child will be when they grow up. They like books, we see a studious academic buried in insightful research. They like jumping, we see an Olympic gymnast flawlessly executing flips and dismounts. They like dressing up, we see an entertainer effortlessly playing with an andience's emotions.

So, it goes without saying then, that I have no idea what to imagine when my child is barelling down a ski hill singing 'diga-diga-diga-diga' and refusing all attempts to slow her down with a brush of her hand and a screetch of "NOOOO, FASTER!!!"

So went K's first downhill skiing week. We spent last week in the wilds of BC (or as wild as it gets at a ski resort). She started the week on the bunny hill, she finished the week by deeking around other skiers as she was coming off the chair lift onto a green run, with dad coming out of his skis trying to catch her as she unexpectedly flew past him. Note at the end of the video below how she starts a turn, not to slow down, but to get around her dad.

So, what did I see in my parent's eye - my little girl standing on a snow cornice staring down a rocky chute (likely following her dad) and about to drop into a narrow alley of powder, armed with a big grin and a hefty dose of 'thrill junkyism'. And yes, I am seriously wondering whether introducing her to down hill skiing was the smartest move.