Pirate Parrgghhty!

April is the birthdayest month at Sam's school. For starters, the four "inseparables," as their teacher calls them—Sam, Sai, Michael and Miki—were born within two weeks of each other. Sam went to his first three non-relative birthday parties during the run-up to his own celebration—all of them at PlayTime4Kids, a hamster-like habitat on a JK-friendly scale. Once he unglued himself from my leg, he had fun: but the wilds of such an indoor playground wasn't the celebration Sam had in mind for himself. He wanted to bring the playground home.

So we hosted a Pirate Party at Hudson House, inviting the inseparables, Connor and Carter. Michael, who was celebrating his own birthday with family that day, was reportedly devestated to have to turn down the invitation—which came in the form of a tied scroll covered with pirate clip art and reading:

Sam Ashe Arnold, the terror of the seven seas, needs shipmates!
His ship—The Clutcher—sets sail on
Saturday, April 12th at 11:30! You’ll find him docked on the Hudson, slip 216!

Sam’s on the hunt for fabulous treasure! If you want to share in the booty, send an “Arrrrrr!” to the captain’s folks!*

X Marks the spot for birthday party fun!
216 Hudson Ave – 613.421.0474
* pirate parents need not stay for the adventure, but are welcome to…if they dare!

I made a treasure island cake, decorated the living room in black and gold, picked up eye patches, bandanas and tattoos for the guest pirates and hung the skeleton on the front porch (with a sign that said "I was at Sam's last party..."). When the boys arrived, they were told that we expected them to be loud and rude and to break all the rules. The pirates ran around the house, ate with their mouths open, pounded the table for "more food! more rum!"—they loved it!

We played a form of Hot Potato with rubbery balloon creatures, Pin the Dubloon onto Captain Jack's hand (a game Sam announced he'd like a lot more if there wasn't a blindfold involved), and Treasure Hunt. The clues for that were colour-based, each with a rhyme sending the boys in search of another coloured clue: "Now me hearties, use your head: This next colour rhymes with dead!" When they'd collected all seven, they were directed to a "parrot's tail" that pointed the way to a treasure chest containing five suede drawstring bags filled with gold nuggets. It was a hit!

Sam was overjoyed to play in pirate character for a couple of hours with his favourite playmates. And I was really happy that our first friends party was such a success, especially since I wasn't here on Sam's 5th birthday. I left on the Sunday morning for Tulum, Mexico, where Angelika & Kevin got married on April 16. I knew it would be tough to miss Sam's actual birthday, but I had a pretty good feeling that the memories of the celebration would last longer in his mind than my absence on the 15th would. So far, it seems I was right. He's already planning his next Pirate Party, for when he turns 6.

Where's the Beef?

Today I joined two bus loads of kids and a handful of other awesome parent volunteers to spend four hours at the Experimental Farm touring the barns, the grounds, the museum and the playground. It was hectic and wet and fun and educational. And it wasn't so tough corralling the kids this time (compared to a nightmare trip to the Science & Tech Museum last year). This trip matched the JKs with their Grade 5 reading buddies and the SKs with their Grade 6 buddies. Sam adores his buddy, David, and the feeling seems to be mutual: they often walked hand in hand through the exhibits. Nice.

When we reached the cow barn, Brynn the Tour Guide explained quite matter-of-factly that the two-day-old calves we were all ohhing and ahhing over had just been separated from their mama cows and would spend about six months in a special section of the barn, where kids could pet them and watch them grow. After that, they'd be transported to a feed lot where they'd spend another six months eating like it was their job. I knew where this was going, and wondered how Sam would react to the Story of Beef. He's heard it before, of course, but not while looking into the dewy eyes of baby Claudette standing there on her shaky limbs and ingratiating herself to Sam by trying to eat his Gap hoodie.

So Brynn gets to the part where the cows are hauled off to the slaughterhouse and Sam spins around to ask "Do we kill them?" Well, not "we" exactly, but I suppose we're complicit in the supply-and-demand equation, so I say "Yes, they are born to be food. Farms grow all kinds of food, including animal food." The kids around us are rhyming off all manner of meaty goodness to show Brynn that they know their cows: hamburgers! steaks! angus beef! teriyaki! souvlaki! I'm watching my son for signs of burgeoning vegetarianism, thinking "Here we go. The boy who won't kill an ant is putting two and moo together in a whole new way. It's going to be soy from here on in..." Sam leans against the pen to speak softly to the baby calf, and I have to strain to hear the words over the din. "I love you, " he whispers and I wince a little, touched by his tender heart—until he finishes his sentence: "I love to eat you. You're so tasty!"

See you soon, Claudette.

Yo-ho-ho and a saucer of cream

The Child Care Centre has a new mascot of sorts—a black and white stuffed cat that will be accompanying the kids on all of their summer outings. Today, the 'webbing' exercise was posted for parents to see at pick-up time. The question, written in the centre of the page, was "What should we call our new cat?". The answers branched off in all directions, but this time the children's names weren't added in parentheses. I figured it might be a challenge to spot Sam's answer in the mix, but it wasn't tough at all. Halfway round the circle, under suggestions like "Fluffy" and "Princess" was the name "Pirate." Pirate, the Cat. Ya, that sounds like Sam. Not surprisingly, his answer seemed to change the tack of the brainstorming, as further round the circle were the suggestions "Hot Wheels," "Power Ranger," and "Pikachu." In the end, the group went with "CiCi Sunshine." Cici for the double C's in 'child care,' and Sunshine for the summer session. Cute.

I doubt Sam's impressed...

Falling Down (in Memorium)

Sam, we didn't tell you about Dennis. You saw the look of shock on my face when I took the phone call that night. You heard me cry in Daddy's arms. But you accepted our explanation that our good friend was very sick. For a few days, you asked after him... then you stopped. It didn't seem right, somehow, not to tell you we'd lost someone special to us, someone who saw how special you were. But it was worse to flounder for an explanation, to admit that sometimes people don't wake up—even people younger than your parents. We wanted to protect you from that unfair fact, keep you from fretting over it, for just a little longer. Dennis would understand. Below is a note he wrote on his own blog the day Daddy went to tell him you were on the way. And the picture here is from the day Dennis met you, when—at 10 days old—you were introduced to The Morley. He's just out of the frame. I like to think that's still true.

Falling Down
September 16th, 2002 · 5 Comments

Today I received news from a friend that genuinely surprised me. News, that in another situation, with another group of people, may have been frowned upon. Instead, it made me feel like sometimes things work out right after all. I've got a sense of excitement about things to come.

For where-e'er the sun does shine,
And where-e'er the rain does fall,
Babe can never hunger there,
Nor poverty the mind appall.
— William Blake, Songs of Experience (1794)

Tags: · Nostalgia, Personal
5 comments for this entry ↓

1 Angelika // Sep 17, 2002 at 12:48 pm
"I've got a sense of excitement about things to come"
Nicely said Dennis! You and me both. :)

2 dennis // Sep 18, 2002 at 9:02 am
Can we say "spoiled rotten"?

3 ang // Sep 23, 2002 at 11:25 am
:) Very touching, Dennis: thanks. I transcribed the Blake quotation into my journal. I love Blake....not as a first name though ;)
And I'm working on the premise that people can be "spoiled good"? :) Heck, even "great."

4 dennis // Sep 23, 2002 at 6:44 pm
I was talking about buying Leafs tickets for myself this season. What the hell did you think I meant? ;-)

5 ang // Sep 26, 2002 at 1:46 pm
Why, I was talking about you stopping by the little souvenir kiosk on the way out... There could be trouble with this whole Leafs thing, but I think a mother knows best...

That's a Lot of Love, Hey??

Two months! Two months have slipped with nary a single post to capture Sam's transition to a five year old. I'm determined to catch up on what's been going on, but for the moment (I have a massive Sunday To Do list), I simply must get this down.

After finishing up Robin Hood a few nights ago, Sam and I were having our goodnight snuggles and he declared—in his most serious tone—"I love you so much, I love you more than a horrible shock pains. And I love you so much that it feels like my heart will explode and my rib cage will explode and pieces of my ribs will shoot up into outer space. That's a lot of love, hey? Is that how much you love me?"

Yes, Sam. Exactly that much.

This morning, he added: "I love you more than all my pirates, my Power Rangers, my Ben 10 guys, my Pokemon, and my Galactic Enforcers. I love you more than all the movies I've ever seen and all of the movies I will ever make. That's a lot of love, hey? Do you love me that much?"

Yes, Sam. More than anything in the universe.

According to some child development theorists I've read, the affectional bond between mother and child becomes the template for all relationships the child will go on to form throughout his life. As Tracey remarked yesterday afternoon, it seems likely that Sam is going to be one of those boys who lays his heart on the line for girls, who writes intense poetry for them, and who gets crushed more than once by opening himself up with the question "That's a lot of love, hey? Do you love me that much?"

But who wouldn't love him that much? He's wonderful (says his mother...).