On the weekend, it was very windy. Rosie didn't think it was cold or annoying.
To her, it was hilarious.

Finn is the coolest two-year-old, soon to be three-year-old, that I know. Never seen without his Elmo hat, Finn is adorable. His Afro Ken* bag is a new addition to his "look." It holds all his treasures: little wallet, big wallet, red tool, gray tool, sometimes his photo book of important pictures, and oftentimes little Elmo (but not Big Elmo. He doesn't fit.) I gave him the bag because I was tired of looking for all his VIP items. Luckily, I have a surplus of bags and happen to have one Finn found acceptable. Never let it be said Finn is trying to blend in. In any way. Whatsoever. At all.

____________________________________________________________

*I am amazed there are Afro Ken sites on the web. I bought this bag at nightmarket in Taipei. Very cool. I also have an Afro Ken t-shirt that's just waiting for someone to be big enough for it.

TSI -- Toddler Scene Investigation

Setting: Our living room at approximately 12:30 p.m. this afternoon.

Scene: Toys strewn about, sippy cups dropped on floor, crackers crushed on carpet, trail of clothing leading from kitchen into living room. Splatter pattern of clothing indicative of wild abandon.

Conclusion: Finn decided to take all his clothes off.

Possible motives: He's a toddler. He was hot. He hates clothes. He likes the feel of the couch on his butt.

Mystery remains unsolved at this time.

Sitting on the couch naked was a little too out there for Finn, though, so he made use of this handy pillow and was, thus, able to be both rebellious and modest at the same time. Also, this enabled photographic evidence. What's a naked moment if your mother can't document it on the Internet? (Your future teenage self curses you, Finn.)

Rosie typically thinks everything Finn does is great, and this naked-on-the-couch exploit is no exception. From the clapping and squealing coming from her corner of the couch, this is yet another stroke of pure genius.

And deserving of a kiss, apparently.

All funny captions provided by Dylan and the letter B*.

"I'm helping daddy organize all his paperwork. Let's just say, mommy didn't marry daddy for his money." (Editor's note: I married your daddy for love, lots and lots of love (and the sex ... [oops, that's Dylan's comment]). And for his paperwork organizational skills.)

"Nothing takes the pain out of reality like a fry-shack and fresh fries for lunch."

"This can't be all there is to the morning? I miss the Olympics!"

"And this where our income taxes are going?"(Stupid Ontario and their stupid high taxes! We're from Alberta. We're used to crappy public services, substandard health care, and half-ass, well, everything really, but at least we got to keep (a little more of) our money.)

"Well, no matter what happens we have each other..."

"... and we have Roo."

"Oh boy, don't forget Sheepie." (If we dare forget Sheepie, Rosie will help us remember, Dylan. And by "help," I mean "scream loudly.")

*B is for Beer. It is Saturday!

This beaver lives on the Parliament buildings. I noticed him for the first time the other day. He amuses me. What a silly nation symbol. Of course, living in Ottawa makes me realize the Mighty Beaver along with his cohorts maple syrup and maple leaves are symbols of Ontario, but I'll keep my Western Protests to myself. For now.

Little Sunshiney here, she also amuses me.
And Finn, well, he fills my heart with happiness.

This weekend didn't suck, not at all.

I feel spring coming. There is still snow, but it was warm. Well, warmer. We walked outside. We played. We went downtown to see the Parliamentary cats and eat something yummy. Mittens stayed dry. The cough is all but gone. Noses are functioning again at optimal snotlessness, and I am happy.

An open letter:

We are fed up. We've been sick. It's the end of February. I would like it to be the end of winter.

This is an open letter to everything that sucks.

Dear Cold,
Please go away. I am tired of the coughing, the sniffling, the blowing of noses, the wiping of noses, the dripping noses, the chasing of small children to wipe said noses. Go. Away.

Dear Laundry,
Please do yourself. Thank you.

Dear Winter,
Please go away. I think you and Cold should head south. Head west. Head east. Whatever. Just get out of my face. I think I made a good go of it. I skated. I tobogganed. I bundled my children one million times to go play in the snow. I shovelled. I pushed my bundled kids on swings in snowy parks. I would prefer sunshine and sandals and warm evenings now. Your cooperation is appreciated.

Dear Olympics,
Please end. I have watched very little of you, but you are bugging me now. I am tired of strange, weird sports dominating the news (or as I like to think of it "not-news." Cheery Vancourites with your green grass and happy flowers, you annoy me, and Hockey??? Well, Hockey, I hate you. Chase your stupid little puck, bash in a few heads, get your medals; just get it over with.

Dear Mittens,

Stay on my children's hands. Oh, and don't get wet either. They hate that.

Dear Neighbour,

Why you would want a dog I cannot understand. Why you would choose to have four dogs is beyond my comprehension. The reason for letting those four dogs crap all over your lawn all winter without cleaning up any of it -- well, I can't think of any rational for that at all, but I do think, Neighbour, it's time to get shoveling. It's time.

Dear City of Ottawa,
Please stop debating about strollers on buses. You are the freaking capital city of Canada. Set a good example.

Dear Elmo,

Stop laughing like that.

Sincerely,

Jennifer

p.s.

Dear Dylan,
Thanks for putting up with our grumpy, snotty, sick souls. You always have a hug handy when needed.

We've been sick: lying-on-the-living-room-floor-watching-Elmo-all-day sick, coughing-so-hard-we-cry sick, being-generally-whiny-and-clingy sick.

It's been a long, snotty week, but things are looking up.

And through it all, the two coughing, snotty children have remained best friends.

As noses dry up and energy levels return, we can get back to our regularly scheduled cuddles and cuteness.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings