I don't know if I've mentioned this
but our daughter is

a little bit
HAPPY!!!!

Thanks for the Elephant, Ada!
All the clothes rock too!

If there is an amateur reader still left in the world -- or anybody who just reads and runs -- I ask him or her, with untellable affection and gratitude, to split the dedication of this book four ways with my wife and children.

Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters and Seymour: An Introduction by J.D. Salinger

I still read and run and always think of this dedication when I do. I walk the stacks of my library and pick books randomly or for their jacket color or their titles or because I like the illustration on the cover.

It's a great system really, and it is how, as a young teenager, I found The Catcher in the Rye. I remember wondering what horses had to do with catchers.

Anyway, I don't think this book has made all the difference, but a difference it did make. Bye J.D. Salinger

"Ooooh, Finn's Elmo hat!"
"At last, I get to wear it."
"Hmmmm..."
"I am sorry, Daddy. This hat just isn't me."
"You wear it, Mommy. I have some hugs to enjoy."

"Yup, definitely suits Mommy."

"Mmmm...Daddy hugs."

It's with a heavy heart I am posting these pictures. There are some images I've seen from Haiti I cannot get out of my mind: little girls broken and bruised with lost limbs, little boys clinging to life. It's very hard to see these things and not feel how truly, truly lucky we are.

Life goes on, though. Rosemary is starting to stand, and Finn won't take off his Elmo pjs.

This is Sheepy, so named by Finn.
It's all very cute, but now I have too loveys to keep track and pray don't get lost.

We went to the Rideau Canal Sunday. And, um, I had hoped it would be a great outing and make a good blog post: cute pictures, beautiful scenery, happy children, but it didn't quite work out that way. If you asked Rosemary how her first skate on the Canal was, she would probably tell you it was the worst day of her life. "Worst. Day. Ever. Mama."

Poor little thing. She was bundled in her stroller. She was having a reasonable time being pushed around, and then -- well, let's just say "skating on the canal" quickly turned into "screaming on the canal."

It was colder than I thought, -5, -11 with wind chill. We didn't bring the stroller cover. Finn thought nothing of winter when he was a baby, still doesn't. I just didn't even think she might not like being cold. Well, I won't be making that mistake again.

When we got home, I gave her some nursing time and placed her in the crib with her favorite toy*, "Sheepy," heater cranked. She clutched Sheepy, sighed that post-gigantic-cry sigh, and never looked so happy to see nap time.

At least we got tons of cute pictures, right? Nope, nope, Dylan forgot to put the memory card in the camera. Sigh. It really is incredible skating, but just don't ask Rosemary.

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*There are pictures of Sheepy. Grandma gave Rosemary her sheep, and Finn gave the blanket with a lamb's head a name. Anyway, Rosemary is very attached to said sheep now. It's all very cute. In the morning, when I get her out of her crib, she's always standing there holding onto the bars. As soon as I open the door, she very quickly bends down and grabs Sheepy. "Quickly Sheepy! Our ride is here. You don't want t o be left in this prison all day." Adorable.

We watched Coming to America last night. I don't really know why, but since you're wondering, it's actually watchable. Eddie Murphy is actually funny. Unexpected, I know.

It's a hell of a lot better than The Hangover, another "comedy" we've seen recently. About 10 minutes into that horrible, piece of crap, I stopped paying attention, but apparently, people find The Hangover really funny. Dylan's co-workers were even going on and on about how hilarious this movie was. Huh?

Maybe it's just me (probably.) Maybe it's my kind of humor (definitely.) Maybe Dylan's co-workers have terrible taste in movies (undoubtedly.) The Kids in the Hall, now that's funny to me. Is anyone watching their new show? It's ludicrous and crazy, but I happen to like ludicrous and crazy. Okay. I'll admit it. When we streamed it late Wednesday evening, I was only kind of watching Death Comes to Town, but that's only because I'm reading this, which is completely absorbing and fascinating. Really, but that's whole nother post.

If I went to see The Hangover in the theater, I would have walked out. Immediately. Of course, if I saw The Hangover in the theater, I probably would have felt like Homer Simpson after the green crayon was removed from his brain. Remember?* As a child, he crammed 15 crayons up his nose, and one remained stuck. Scientists remove it. Homer survives, and his IQ goes up from 55 to 105. With his newfound intellectual powers, he goes to a movie, a "comedy," and realizes, "Hey! That's not funny. Why are you all laughing?"

Anyway, back to Coming to America, I liked the late '80s memories: the big earrings, the crazy sweaters, neon lights as decor, the technology. "Hey! That's my camera! I had that camera! I loved that camera. What happened to that camera?"

Mostly, though, I found myself this morning wishing I could call all my friends and family on a hamburger phone. A hamburger phone! (I know. I know. There was a hamburger phone in Juno, but the one in Coming to America was just there. It wasn't retro cool. It was simply cool.)

_________________________________________________________________

*If you don't remember that episode, it's Season 12, Episode 9, "HOMR." It makes the Jenn's Top 10 Best Episodes Ever.

At the end of the episode, Homer wants to be dumb again. He's intelligence has alienated him and ruined everything he once enjoyed. He asks Moe to put the crayon back in his brain.

Moe: All right. Tell me when I hit the sweet spot. (Puts the crayon up Homer's nose)
Homer: Deeper, you pusillanimous pilsner pusher!
Moe: All right. All right. (Hammers the crayon in)
Homer: De-fense, uh-uh! De-fense, uh-uh!
Moe: Eh, that's pretty dumb. But uh... (hammers the crayon more)
Homer: Extended warranty? How can I lose?
Moe: Perfect.

Generally, I hate January. It is, as they say, the armpit of the year. It's cold. It's dark. We're always broke. We're tired from Christmas. This year, though, I am loving it. I really am. January is a-okay this year. It's fun! There's snow! The Rideau Canal has opened! And you know why? Because I. am. not. pregnant. January is an amazing month when you're not lugging a toddler and a gigantic baby-filled belly around. It really is.

Yesterday, I was pulling Finn and Rosemary in their wagon through the snow, and although it was a little tough going -- the snow is so sticky and soft -- and it involved quite a bit of effort to get them both in their snowsuits and their boots and their mitts -- what's with kids and pulling off their freaking mitts -- I was thinking, "This is great. I love this." I haven't lost my mind. I don't think so anyway. My new-found optimism is because last January, I was doing much the same thing: stuffing Finn in a snowsuit, trying to play outside in the snow, doing ANYTHING to burn some energy. I only had one kid then, but it was miserable. It was hard and incredibly

tiring, and I really honestly could not believe the things I was doing with my body at that point.

When you're six-months pregnant during in the armpit of the year, all you want to do is curl up in bed with chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate. A toddler really doesn't allow for that kind of lifestyle choice.

Anyway, this year, I want to skate and run in the snow and go tobogganing and drag my kids all over this great city because I CAN!!!! This year, we are skating every weekend. We're going to Winterlude, which unbelievably, last year, we didn't attend any events. I think, "Why on earth didn't we go to Winterlude, one of the best winter festivals in the country? Downtown is just a 10-minute drive from our house." Then I remember, "Oh yeah, I was PREGNANT."

I love not being pregnant.

Happy Birthday Dylan!

It's so obvious to say, but becoming a parent changed everything for me. Having a child, raising one, this is not merely a lifestyle choice; it's a paradigm shift. Everything is radically different from this side of life. I can't even watch movies or TV the same anymore. Naturally, I suppose, I see now everything with the eyes of a parent. For instance, when I watch a movie like Juno, my viewpoint kind of spoils it for me. The quirkiness and cool soundtrack have little effect; the what-ifs of teen pregnancy terrify me. Birth control in Rosemary's sippy cup seems surely reasonable.

CBC now has all their shows online to watch. For free! I love CBC television: Doc Zone, The Passionate Eye, Marketplace, The Nature of Things. We don't have cable, as I may have mentioned, but don't worry. This fact doesn't make us better than you out there with subscriptions. We're just cheaper.

Anyway, I am thrilled I can watch The Rick Mercer Report any time I want to. Some of these shows, especially the documentaries, are upsetting me, though. 65_RedRoses, a documentary about a girl with cystic fibrosis, makes my chest contract with fear. What if? What if? What if? Watching it makes me so thankful for my healthy children, I could weep.

Then there's The Miracle of the Hudson Plane Crash. Late Thursday night -- well, it was 9:30, but that's late for me -- I rashly decided no more planes rides for us after this gripping show. Imagine me stuck on the wing of a plane in the freezing, frozen North Saskatchewan River with a toddler and a baby clinging to me waiting for rescue. Good god. How much is a train ticket to Edmonton?

The newspaper makes me feel no better. I read a review today of Lovely Bones, book and recent movie, with a horrific plot. A little girl never comes home to her family, having been raped and murdered. Well, I can't even go there. There are no what-ifs, no pretend scenarios for me at night for this one. My brain has the ego structure, I guess, to stop any such soul-destroying imaginings.

All this lately does make me wonder, though, how the hell are we, Dylan and I, going to get through this whole raising children deal without turning into absolute freaks. Some children don't make it. Some children have terrible things happen to them. Some parents have to live with loss and sadness. I know this. Intellectually, I KNOW this, but my heart fears it. Bizarre twists of fate, strange accidents, unfortunate "wrong place at the wrong time" events are all possibilities.

I really don't want to be run by fear, though. I want my children to be free from fear, truly. I honestly believe if I worry about every little thing that might harm, maim, strike them down too soon, steal them away from my arms, Finn and Rosemary will not be any safer children.

They will just be kids with a fearful, freaky mom, and that in turn will make them fearful, freaky children.

Oh, and apparently, I am spreading this anxiety CBC documentaries seem to induce. Sorry Ada!

I guess I'll blog later tonight or tomorrow.

I suppose I should get some more beer.

... Dylan

Allo Community...

Back by request because we (Jenn is) exhausted from the holidays -- and I don't spend enough time on this laptop writing -- I have been convinced to be a "guest" blogger on Jenn's blog. Since I will be a "regular" contributor to this blog, I need to know some rules: those do's and don'ts of blogging.

I've heard that I shouldn't talk bad about work. Done. I don't really like to talk about work when I am at work.

Actually, it's not that bad. If I had to say anything bad about work, I have to say it's challenging. It is challenging because my job is very complex, and there's so much I have had to learn and processes to get familiarized with. Even after the last year and half, it still feels like I don't know half my job. I opened a document today that I am the "owner" of and realized I haven't even read the document since I took "ownership" of it.

Maybe I put too much pressure and responsibility on myself, but there are days, meetings, and e-mails I get that challenge me to make a quick, accurate, and logical decision based on factors that I know, scenarios I might anticipate, and make assumptions on factors and a history of the equipment that I don't really understand.

The thing I fear the most is the question "Why?" The answer to "Why?" is filled with facts (and usually a face-to-face conversation. There is no avoiding the "Why?" question when you are in a meeting), and those facts come from all over the place. I keep those facts in three different places: my memory, my computer, and my notepad.

A "Why?" question from a technical person is not the same as a "Why?" question from a toddler. A "Why?" question is scary if you get it wrong. Try to avoid those "Why?" questions.

OH YEAH, blogging....

Jenn bought me a new camera for Christmas. A nice DSLR. It's not in the professional layer, but it's great for what I want in a camera.

Priority 1: It must work. I hate when an electronic device tries to tell YOU that it is smarter than YOU. For example, when I try to take a picture with another digital camera, it may tell me that there is not enough light, or the subject is moving too fast, etc., etc. BS!!! Total BS!!! Why is technology telling me what I want to do? Frak that!

But the camera did not come with a remote control, and Jenn and I wanted to get a good family Christmas picture this year, so I made a wired remote control. I didn't do an Infrared (like the TV remote) or an RF remote (like an RC car) because we wanted to take the picture that day. So I found on the Internet someone else who did one, and this is what I made.

It's two switches wired into a DV tape cassette case with a stereo jack to connect it to the camera. When you press one button, the camera focuses. Press the second button, and the camera takes the picture. Just press ONLY the second button, and the whole process happens automatically, but it could be hit or miss with the flash/focus.

I am working on making a two-stage switch, the kind that is in the camera, but that takes skill. I'll post that DIY when it's done.

I made everything, except for one of the jacks, for $1.09. I had to buy a special jack from Radio Shack for $0.96, so I guess RS doesn't stink so much after all.

All other parts I scavenged from the basement and old electronics that don't work. This is why you don't throw anything away. You will never know when you need a part for a project. Why pay $1.09 for a part at Radio Shack when you can keep it in the basement for four years and finally get the satisfaction of using old, useful junk. Pack rats UNITE!!!

Maybe this is my shtick? I post my thoughts, then follow up with a DIY project? Browsing the Internet, though, I'm not doing anything earth-shattering. Most of my projects are purely researched from the Internet.

So kids, if you want to be as smart as me, get the Internet. It's the best thing God invented. (Editors note: I believe Al Gore invented the Internet, Dylan.)

Rex Murphy, my favorite CBC curmudgeon, has an insightful and funny rant about 2009, "the year that was," and in his excellently verbose opinion, it was a year indeed. It's worth watching to hear Rex ruminate about "the witless zombies" always in the media, the "gruesome comedy" provided by Stephen Harper this year, and the "mega trivialities" and "tacky distractions" our so-called news sources feed us.

p.s.

Dear New Years Resolution people,

Dylan got a new camera for Xmas, so the blog hereby resolves to have much, much better pictures in 2010.

Sincerely,

Jenn's Blog

p.p.s

MUCH better.

I am not even going to bother with New Year's resolutions this year. I have some modest personal improvements I'd like to implement for the new year, but nothing majorly blog-worthy. There won't be any big lists of all the things I'd like to clean up about myself this year. It's not that I am against the whole resolution deal. In fact, five years ago, I resolved to floss my teeth daily. I have kept that resolution almost every day since, and I feel such success just about covers me and my New-Years-Resolution needs for a good long while yet.

I do hope to have a mindful year in 2010, to stay in the moment, and savor every treasure-filled day. Even if the laundry is piling up, even if there is yet ANOTHER mess to clean, even if there is more crying in the day than laughing, I am going to enjoy it all because, as it seems to me, these little people are moving and changing far, far too fast.

Mainly, I resolve to keep these wise words in my mind this year:

"Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not, but remember that what you have now was once among the things only hoped for."

Epicurus.

The cuteness is unbearable, I know.

She may look like she's crying, but she's not. She's shrieking with laughter. Her only question after her first run down the hill, "Could you make it a little faster, Daddy?"



By the way, this is the sweet toboggan run Dylan built in the backyard. What better way to spend New Year's day?