Christmas

Merry Christmas folks:) To our loved ones in Seattle, here are the images and video that you requested.

And we did a quick walk around during Christmas brunch. It's an abrupt finish, as I'm pretty sure tears were on someone's horizon;)

Snow Day

Merry Christmas teachers...another snow day!

So today I had the three cubs all day (Jud was in and out dealing with work stuff and end of year drinks with Scott, his business partner). Since Bo has dropped his nap, afternoons have become rather long. With William at school during the mornings, I get somewhat of a reprieve. Not today.

Jud and I took some photos that we'll throw up here. Knowing how cray-cray the boys would get if pent up indoors all day (not to mention the old ma an' pa) we ventured out into the backyard to construct a snow slide.

William loves the snow. Could spend hours in it digging, kicking, plopping, throwing, and yes, even talking to it. Bo not so much. He seems to wander around, not quite sure what to do. He gives it a go for a while then wants to come inside and drink milk and watch Elmo.

Joshua is eager to get into it but his snowsuit negates much movement. For the most part, he sat in the snow and stared, making the occasional 'pick me up' noise.

While Jud was out and Josh napped, I headed down to the basement with William and Bo to sort it out. It is quite a mess and we're having some friends over with their boys so want to get that done before Sunday.

"We" [read I] restored some order all the while playing referee between the boys as William whacked several times in the face while playing pirates, Bo continually dismantled the race car tracks I was re-assembling after he had previously taken them apart "accidentally", and William decided to get even with me by shooting me in the butt five times with his nerf gun (just in case I needed a gentle reminded to hit the gym more).

And all this with some Bailey's in my hot chocolate!

Jud got home, I dumped the two with him, poured a bottle of milk for Josh and a glass of wine for me. But it didn't end there.

While the boys were outside building a snowman, Joshua was trying every which way to get to the Christmas tree to attack, eat, and destroy. His favourite haunts are the bathroom (in particular the toilet), the garbage can, the liquor cabinet (no gender confusion with this lad) but any chance he gets he makes a beeline for the Christmas Tree.

Destructive, but cute.

Ottawa

We live in Ottawa, Canada. There are pros and cons to this. Housing is affordable, but the place is littered with politicians. We're 5 minutes from schools, hospitals and the liquor store (very important) but we're taxed to death at every level. We're close to family but, you know, we're close to family;)

The pros and cons aside, I would bet the thing Jill comments upon most (okay, besides the taxes), is the fact that we get to experience each distinct season.

Today, we experienced an Ottawa winter:)

Home

William loves the snow, Josh is presently undecided

Building a snow slide with Mommy

William being William and Bo....being Bo

Bombs Away....

The F-bomb has finally entered our house. It was only a matter of time, even though Jill and I make a point of watching our language. Every parent knows that the day will come when their innocent looking child will unleash the big one, and yesterday it was dropped with a flourish.

Last night as Jill was preparing dinner and I was entertaining Bo and Joshua in the family room, William was playing by himself in the corner, behind a big chair.

"F*** it", he said. "Aw F*** it"

We were caught off guard and shot each other a questioning glance. A shared, unspoken exchange that, ironically, asked "What the F***????"

Before I could respond Jill unleashed the classic "HEY! WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT WORD?!" and William's head, all eyes, ears and dimples, poked out from behind the chair."What?" he asked.

We tried to determine where he had learned everyone's favourite go-to phrase. Was it us? No....it's never used. If he'd yelled "Jesus Christ!", or "You C***sucker...", I would have had to shoulder the burden of responsibility. However, I was free and clear on this one. He heard it from Nanny perhaps? There was precedence. But no, he had made a point of explaining when and how the phrase was to be used, so not Nanny. This had been taught, not overheard.

In the end, we just accepted that an older kid at school, or on the bus, had been holding court with the kindergarten kids. We made it very, very clear that this was never to be uttered again. I thought this was the end of it. Silly Daddy.

It was Jill's turn to bathe the boys and herd them into bed. I got to hit the gym. To that end, I am often amazed at the amount of drama that can transpire when I am out of the house for 45 minutes. Somedays it's as if a whole new family moves in, smokes dope, picks a few fights, pees on the floor and then retreats to separate corners for respite. I returned from my workout, feeling fit and relaxed, to learn that William had not given up on the F-word.

As regular readers may have learned, he's a smart little boy with a sharp tongue who can often be as stubborn as a mule. Traits he inherited from his mother (true story). The regular bath time fighting between Bo and William had ensued. Toys were flying, slaps were made, and eventually Bo was screaming (it is ever such). Jill stormed in to lay down some law but William wasn't in the mood for discipline, especially from his mother. In fact, the other day he requested that I throw her off the planet. He glared at Jill, spun in the tub to show her his back, and dropped a perfectly delivered "F*** It".

Now, it is important to note here that Jill is a South African/German mix. I love her with everything I have, but that's not exactly a gene cocktail you want to mess with. There is now in the boys' washroom, and I kid you not, a large bar of Ivory Snow soap with a clear imprint of William's teeth. That's my wife. Old school baby....old school.

Of all the Charlie Browns in the world...

No, I'm not the Charlie Browniest, but I do love that line. And it has got me thinking about this whole holiday season thing.

A few years back, when I spent my first Christmas with Jud and his big extended family, his sister Trina asked me what Christmas traditions I had grown up with. I didn't quite know what to say because when I stopped to think about it, besides eating more than I ought to, I didn't really come from a family with established traditions.

We weren't religious, so attending church wasn't a staple. The meaning of Christmas seemed, well, a veneer for commercialism. And now that we have kids, it feels even more commercialized.

Kids like toys, I get it, but honestly, I feel like we throw money at things, plastic things, that hold their interests for <insert variable amount of time>. Maybe we should tell our kids that Santa comes from a plastic factory somewhere in China. Just kidding.

But going back to the traditions thing....I was talking with Jud the other night about how I would like to start some traditions with our boys so that this time of year does hold special meaning for them.

Now I'm still not a religious person, and if religion serves as a metaphor for doing good, then my religion would have to be Humanitarianism. I think next year, we're going to get the boys to do various acts of kindness, something age appropriate, but something where they learn how good it feels to do kind things, to help other people somehow.

Jud also mentioned how much he loved singing at the piano with Grandma Raz and his cousins. Guess we'd have to get a piano, but that's something to think about too. And when the boys can handle it, I'd love to get outside and go snow shoeing or sledding on Christmas Day.

And of course, Charlie Brown will be a staple in our household. How can you not love that music?

Oh, and homemade turtles....mmmm....

Dancing will also be a staple...

But not hair pulling, even though Josh is super cute. Jud needs his hair. (sorry it's sideways).

Anyone of you got some groovy traditions that you want to share? Please do :)

Being Josh

There's a line, and I know it from a Dire Straits song, that reads "Sometimes you're the Louisville slugger, sometimes, you're the ball"

Ball....meet your older brothers.