So it’s been a really (really, really) long time since I’ve captured your stories in this blog, Sam. So much happens that I want to get in here—first grown-up-free trip to the movies with Carter, first week at Quin-Mo-Lac, first acting lesson. But time is tight and the truth is that I’d rather spend our leisure time hanging out with you than squirrel away in the basement writing at the end of the day.
Still, it occurred to me this week that it’s not just the “firsts” I’d like you to remember: it’s the day-to-day activities of your 9-year-old self that make up the bigger part of your “happy childhood” and that you may recall only in fleeting bits and pieces. When I woke up early this morning, I decided to tiptoe down to the computer and cast a week or so of your daily life into the memory book. This is what we do…
Sunday
Every second or third Sunday or so, we head to Elgin Street Diner for breakfast together. You always get the kids’ pancakes with bacon or sausage and choose a chocolate milk or hot chocolate depending on the season. We chat and draw on the paper menu and plan the rest of the day. Two Sundays ago, Trevor and Bec met us at the diner—Bec was curious and was ticking things off her “baby is still in the belly” list. When she ordered a milkshake, you sat up a little straighter and shot surprised glances around the table that read, “Could it be that I had that option all these years?!” You just about made yourself sick on a thick chocolate shake—had to walk it off!—but you loved it.
Then we bundled up and headed to Jacques Cartier Park on the Quebec side to take in some Winterlude fun. We had time for three or four trips down the ice slides (Dad got stuck in his non-slippy jeans!), a bit of a gander at the snow sculptures, and some fest-must beavertails and fresh maple taffy made on snow. Then we headed home in time for Miki’s arrival – the two of you spent the afternoon playing video games and making movies out in the snow.
Monday
Monday night is—and has been for at least five years—our family “Dinner and a Movie” night. Barring extraordinary circumstances, we plan to eat in front of the TV while watching something from our growing collection or ordering a movie on demand. We started this tradition way back when you found the school day to be gruelling – 8:00 to 5:30, once we added child care. Mondays were always tough on you after the fun of the weekend. So we started the day with waffles and ended it with a movie—things to look forward at the start and end of that 10-hour day.
This particular week, we changed it up a little. I had a chicken chili in the slow cooker ready to serve at 5:00; Dad came home for an early dinner; then we headed up to South Keys to see Warm Bodies (the “zom-com” as they’re calling it), which was a lot of fun. And we even had time enough for you to play some arcade games with Dad first.
Tuesday
The next morning, you walked into the kitchen to find a large trifold brochure on your table announcing that “The boys are back!” The owners of the Greek Souvlaki House – which had shocked us by suddenly closing up shop at the corner about two years ago – had reopened on Riverside. Brilliant! I scoped it out that day to discover that they’d scaled way down to a delivery business, so delivery we got. We met up with Mike & Kari and Trace & the kids at Paul & Siobhan’s and feasted on lamb souvlaki platters like no other, pita and tzatziki, and baklava. Then you and Carter played Rock Band on the big screen while the boys watched hockey at the bar and the girls chatted in the living room. As always, we packed it up at the end of the first period (Dad and Huddie stayed on) and tucked in for school-night bedtime of 9:30. The Morley is a home away from home for you--and their cottage north of Hunstville is your favourite getaway (we're heading up for a winter weekend at the end of the month, and we're traditionally there for Canada Day and Labour Day weekend, too.)
Wednesday
You really like your “hump day.” On Wednesdays, I wake you up at 7:00 (you usually stagger down for a morning hug at 7:30) and we get ready quickly in an effort to make it to the Carleton Heights Child Care Centre just as the doors are being unlocked. Occasionally we stop for a Tim’s breakfast, but I usually have a homemade breakfast sandwich on the go while I’m packing your lunch (in this case: chili, a buttered roll, red grapes, and orange wedges). You spend 90 minutes before school and two hours after school hanging out with your child care friends (especially Connor and Michael, who aren’t in your class). You had the option as of September 2011 to quit the centre entirely, but you just couldn’t imagine not ever climbing up into the loft again – you’d been part of that wonderful place since you were three and a half!
Dad usually picks you up for a quick dinner – a sub, some pizza, or a shawarma – and drops you at Corona Gymnastics for an hour and a half of boys’ gymnastics. You tried a summer camp week late last August and liked it enough to join. You do boot-camp style rotations on the vault, beam (just running across it!), high bar, pummel horse, parallel bars, rings, and – your favourite – trampoline. It’s a lot of “calisthenics,” so you’re getting quite strong. You love the challenge of it. We usually try to get there to watch the tail end of the class, but in this case, Dad stayed for the whole thing and I came over from the club for the second half. So fun to see you out there trying so hard to improve…
Thursday
Thursday was the last day of school this week because Friday was a PA Day –making it a four-day weekend for Family Day. You played with Carter for a few hours after school: these days, you’re especially loving Minecraft (which we like a lot, too: it’s creative and smart – and the developers chose a near spa-like musical score, which is a blessed relief from the rat-tat-tat of endless zombie shooting). After dinner, we read a chapter of the latest book in the Percy Jackson series. If it was Dad’s turn, you’d have read some of The Two Towers in the Lord of the Rings series. We’ve been reading to you since you were a fetus and love that you still like to be read to even though you’re a voracious reader yourself and always follow up these chapters with about half an hour of your own reading in bed. One of these days, I’ll try to estimate how many pages I’ve read to you in 10 years… There are something like 3,000 - 4,000 pages in the seven Harry Potter books alone!
Friday
You forgot about the PD Day and got yourself ready for school before I even noticed you were up and brushing your teeth—a happy surprise! You spent the day with Carter and Anabel, bouncing back and forth between the two houses but mostly skating at the Carleton Heights Community Centre (where you were suddenly hooked by a class outing two days before). You boys logged so many hours playing hockey on Friday and Saturday that you ended up with bloody blisters up the sides of your ankles! That night, we planned for you and Carter to hang out here while Anabel was set up for a sleepover with Hailey Yates, but Madysen and Kennedy wanted to see you guys so you ended up going there instead and spending most of the night making a movie (“I guess it’s sort of a love story: they wanted us to make a movie of us fighting over one of them…”). You really love it at the Yates--they've got a big kid-friendly house in Barhaven and we've tagged along with Tracey for years to their annual Halloween and Christmas bashes. Now that we know the Yates better, you've often been invited over for games (and sometimes hottubbing, which you love). You crashed at Tracey’s at about 11. You spend most Friday nights over there: it’s your big video game extravaganza night, as you don’t really play during the busy week. It's a fun way to kick off the weekend.
Saturday
So most Saturday mornings, you come flying in the door around 9:50 to take a quick shower and grab your script so we make it to acting class at The Ottawa School of Speech & Drama. You tried a camp there last summer, too (along with a paddling camp and QML) and it was totally your element. So this year you’ve been doing “Page to Stage” for 90 minutes on Saturdays. Last fall, your group worked on various ways to bring small scenes to life with creative use of small props and risers. This semester, you’re doing The Last Brontosaurus and you play the part of a wise-cracking southern hunter named Jim (you’re drawing on Foghorn Leghorn for your accent). You’re so into drama that even when you’re just telling me a story, you’re acting it out with your whole body as well as your voice. Born to it…
After lunch, you headed back to the rink with Carter and Jacob. It was Tracey’s birthday, so the girls planned Thai dinner here that night. You, Dad, and Carter played videogames over pizza before heading over to Tracey’s for birthday cake and a night of games with “Debbie’s Michael.” Later that night, you crawled into bed with me, Daddy and Huddie (who needs doggie stairs to get in now) to watch the end of the hockey game and then announced, “I’m just going to crash here.” You’d given up the nighttime kisses and the morning cuddles (mostly) as of New Year’s, but you’ll occasionally sleep between us. You try to kick the covers off and sometimes talk and fling your arms into faces as you sleep, but despite that we like the small reminders of our little boy ... who's growing up so fast.
And then it’s Sunday morning again.
