Of Course It's Personal

I often hear people talk about the 'Terrible Two's" and I'm not sure why. Kids at the age of two are easy. They're cute. They're talking all the time and their personalities are coming to the fore. Any trouble you have with a two year old stems from their emotional development. They don't know why they are angry, they're just angry. That kind of thing. Three year olds on the other hand. Well, they make it personal.They know full well that buttons are made to be pushed.

Bo is now 3 years and 5 months old and hitting stride as a sh** disturber. If Josh is crying, Bo is involved. If William is crying, Bo is involved. Even if Bo is crying it is highly probable that he was the only person involved. Intellectually, we get it. He's sandwiched between his brothers. He's trying to establish his place in the family and in his world. Unfortunately, most days I'm too tired to step back and think things through from his perspective. My first impulse after he's lit the powder keg that is our home is to stick him in the freezer for 10 minutes, pour a glass of wine and re-group. Still, we manage to survive each day and every night he manages to save his butt by yelling after us from his bed as we limp downstairs after story time  ..."Goodnight Daddy. I'll love you in the morning and in the afternoon."

It's because he means it that we cut him some slack.

On the rare occasion his 'true' self shows through and he makes us laugh. The other day he walked into the kitchen saying 'Ho Ho Ho....here's a candy cane'.

Thwap!

'THWAP!'

Hahahahahaaaaaa......

'THWAP!'
'THWAP!'

Heheheheheeeeeeeee.....

I sat in my office upstairs and listened to these sounds as they jumped from the boys' washroom two doors down, where Josh and Bo were having a bath.

'THWAP!' 'THWAP!' 'THWAP!'

HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAA

My curiosity finally got the better of me and I went to investigate. Bo was situated at one end of the tub. Joshua at the other. They were holding little rubber balls, each about the size of a plum, and looking at me with blank faces. They didn't know that I didn't know what the heck they were doing. So they were waiting for my reaction. There was no evidence of wrong doing. I left.

 'THWAP!' (giggle)

I quickly poked my head back in. The game, if I can call it that, was in full swing. The objective, it appeared, was to see how close you could gun one of those balls at the other person's head without actually hitting it. The sound was the rubber balls smacking off the wall behind the target.

There was really very little I could, or wanted to, do. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way. I returned to my office. While Bo is bigger, my money was on Josh. He is strong and throws equally well with either arm. When I left he was throwing balls one after the other, from different sides.

It did not take long before I was proven wrong though. Bo connected first....and that was the end of bath time.

The Farming of Trees

'Tis true. People do this. They farm trees.

Today we put on our snowpants, boots and tuques, loaded the baby-blue minivan and headed South West. 40 minutes, one nap and a few 'how much longer' groans from the back row and we were there. Ian's Tree Farm. Found at the corner of Cemetary Side Road and Richmond.

It was sunny, there was a big ass reindeer and the boys got to run around outside with sticks. Pretty much Nirvana. After strolling along Candy Cane Lane for over two hours, doing the hay maze twice and rolling around in the hay barn (don't laugh...Jesus did it), Jill decided to take the boys on the wagon ride (okay, the hay ride) while I grabbed a tree and strapped it to the van. 

A tree farm forces you to think about trees. Needle retention, colour and cost per foot are variables that must be weighed. Ian's offered Scotch Pine, Norway Spruce, White Spruce and White Pine at the lower end of the price scale. Colorado Blue Spruce and Fraser Fir were at the high end. Prices varied depending upon whether or not you wanted under 6 feet or between 6 and 8 feet. Smackdab in the middle sat the Balsam Fir. Most middle aged men would require 2 hours with pen and paper and a glass of milk to figure out which tree was best for them. But I wasn't messing around. I was on the clock. That hay ride wasn't going to last forever. I walked with an 8' Balsam Fir and was damn proud of it. Smart looking tree that Balsam.

Now here's a difference between men and women. A woman......a Barrahaven living, Costco shopping, Caravan driving mother of two, will sniff a tree and try to convince her husband that she can tell the difference between a Balsam Fir and Fraser Fir. She'll do it with a straight face too, all the while trying to  make him appear the idiot.

As I was tying the tree to our van I had to listen to the couple parked behind me....

Her: we got a deal
Him: what do you mean? We paid the asking price. $53 for a six foot Balsam
Her: that's not a Balsam, that's a Fraser. Smell it
Him: it was in the row marked 'Balsam'. The guy who works at the farm said it was a Balsam. They charged us for a Balsam
Her: no way. We got a deal. That's a Fraser. Smell it..... Smell it!

There were probably 10 guys in the parking lot when this was going on. We were all separated by minivans and in the process of strapping trees to them...and yet...we all managed to exchange a look at that precise moment.

We decorated our bad boy this evening. It's 8:30 p.m. I'm fried and going to bed.

To be, or not to be....

William is presently taking skating and swimming lessons. He'll soon be back in ski lessons. However, he has also been taking a drama class at the Ottawa School of Speech and Drama. There are seventeen kids in his class. He is one of five boys and seems to enjoy himself a good deal, though he makes a point of telling us the exact opposite.

Today they wrapped up the semester by putting on a slightly modified performance of Rumpelstiltskin. He had two lines and played the role of a farmer. In typical William fashion he saw little need to practice his lines over the course of the week and uttered them only once before we left the house for the twenty minute play.

As expected, 95% of the kids didn't know what they were supposed to say or spoke too softly for anyone to hear. Jill and I can already see the politics at play as the two primary male roles were granted to boys we found lacking. One kept falling down and the other whispered all of his lines. I have no doubt that the man who stood beside me, barefoot, had fathered one of them. Perhaps both.

Pettiness aside, I enjoyed the little show and smiled from beginning to end. William has only recently turned five, but when it comes to this sort of thing Jill and I have absolutely no concerns about his confidence or his ability to deliver. For the time being anyway, words are his forte. As he sat waiting for his few seconds of floor time to come along he repeatedly turned to me, winked and gave me a thumbs up sign. He was either confident or found the kid who kept falling down highly amusing. The Farmer character was introduced, he leapt up, strode over to the Jester and, like Olivier in his prime,  nailed his lines cleanly and clearly. I must remember to bring roses next time.

"Next time" will have to be the spring though. With skiing, skating and swimming continuing after Christmas the little lad will need time to just play outside.

Apologies for the quality of the photos. I had to rely on my phone's camera.

What's Mine Is Mine

What's mine is mine. What's yours is mine.

My name is Joshua. You live in my house. This is how I roll.

I don't care if anyone has a problem with that. Sweetness or violence will see me through.

If I can't go over it, I will go through it. If I can't go through it. I will, in time, break it.

My name is Joshua. What's mine is mine. What's yours is mine.

This is my house. Deal with it.

Smile.

Canadian Boys

As I peak out the window from the room we now refer to as the den, I see two pairs of black boots scurrying back and forth along the snow bank in front of the house. Our large fir tree is still carrying the burden left by a recent storm and, laden down, it obscures William and Bo from view. I do not, however, need to see them to know what they are about.

Sticks are most certainly involved. They will initially be used as pry bars so that snow bricks, required for the fort walls, can be torn out of the snow bank. Next, they will become swords as the new walls are defended from people simply labelled as "bad guys"(We are constantly under attack). In time, the sticks will be turned on each other and one, perhaps both, will suffer a minor flesh wound (Bo is getting sneaky in a fight). Playtime will then be over. For the moment though, bricks are being stacked and there is peace. Both inside the house and out.

The weather, the cold, is not a factor. They are young Canadian boys. Cold is not considered a deterrent. It is viewed as an opportunity. The cold brings a slew of new 'bad guys' who need to be dealt with.

Winter remains my favourite time of year.

As Expected...

"Bo, when I speak, do you listen to me?"
"Bo....when I'm talking, do you hear me? Bo?"
"Bo"
"Bo....Bo....Bo...are you listening?"
"Sweet Jesus.....BO!"

By this point I've answered my own question. He's not listening. I'm not even sure he can hear. As I repeat my question I sit upon the toilet seat in the kids' bathroom talking to his ass. Bo is on his hands and knees, bum up in the air, trying to place the doorstop juuuust right. He has placed it approximately 32 times, but never juuuuust right. If the door moves at all, he has failed, and must try again. If he was less cute, and not wearing Superman pajamas, I may have lost my shit completely.

"Bo....are....you...listening...?"

He stands and turns to look at me. It is the face of innocence.

"Daddy?"
"Yes Bo?"
"The mouthwash is almost done and then we'll have to buy a new one."

We need a Baileys dispenser in these washrooms.

Every Afternoon

We are tired of blogging. Sorry:) However, Jill and I do appreciate being able to see nieces and nephews online so I'm slapping something up here for those who wish to see our boys. Pretty much each weekday I meet William's bus as he returns from school. Bo and Josh insist on joining me. Therefore, despite living 5 doors from the bus stop, we still require 20 minutes to get there. The number of 'bad guys' we encounter along the way, each day, is mind boggling. Thankfully, the sticks the boys find on our lawn (and our neighbours' lawns) are fully automatic. Bad guys are easily mowed down.

Here is a video that pretty much represents each day from 3:42 p.m to about 3:50 p.m.

Renewal

Fall is here....thank God. Summer is not an easy time for this portion of the Rasmussen clan. Both work and kids can run Jill and me down. Come Labour Day our tanks are definitely empty. Thankfully, we find energy in the winds of Fall as they blow out the cobwebs and give us a little nudge forward.

Years ago I was visiting close friends who lived in Barbados and one of their friends took a look at me..the hulking, hairy Canadian. She smiled and said 'you're kind of built for Canada, aren't you?'. Yes, I guess I am. More specifically, I'm built for the colder months of Canada:) I can't wait for the first snow......

But before snow there are the first days of school, Thanksgiving and Halloween. Not to mention Jill's birthday. Here are photos of William and Bo fresh home from getting their hair cut. William is a trained professional. He knows how to smile. Bo is still in the 'you think you're smiling but really you're creeping me the f*** out' stage. And Josh.....well, books will be written about our little Cinderella Man.

Soccer

William is now on a soccer team. I use the word 'team' loosely as there is rarely any concerted effort to work together towards a common goal, like scoring, but they do wear the same jersey. So they are, from cotton/polyester blend standpoint, a team. They are called the Robins.

While we would like William to enjoy and thrive at athletics we really don't care if he does. If he has fun and gets some exercise we are happy. Around the house he is an extremely competitive little boy. His printing and math need to be perfect. He needs to win every board game that he plays and when we play baseball in the backyard the only pitches that count are the ones he hits. On the soccer field however, the 'us versus them' concept eludes him. He's a happy puppy who runs after people instead of the ball, falls down on purpose, shakes his fist in mock anger when the other team scores and who gets stuck in the mesh when playing goalie (it took two of us to get his fingers out). The most passion I've seen from him was when he thought I was eating his granola bar on the sidelines.

He takes water breaks whenever he wishes, expects a sticker from his young female coach after every practice and asks me to remind him to poo when we get home. It's not exactly World Cup stuff. I don't know if he'll be an athlete. He has the physical tools to do well should he wish. Right now he's just a goofy, 4 year old boy.

May 24...

The long weekend in May is traditionally a work weekend up at the cottage. The raking, burning, cleaning etc gets done and the cottage is prepped for the summer season. With portions of the Raz clan having moved away we have been short staffed in recent years. Thankfully, our patriarch is a freaking mule despite being in his 70s (That's a compliment Dad!) and this year our boys also chipped in where they could. Mind  you, being 4, 2 and 1 the bulk of their efforts were focused on throwing leaves on the fire outside......but they WANTED to help, which is a step in the right direction.

We had rakes in our hands most of the time, but a few photos were taken.

He's only one...but you still get the sense that he's a big lug

Not yet Bo Bo...but one day.....

Jill teaching William a new card game. He smiles when winning

Sometimes...

Some times they are cute. Some times they appear to like each other.

By the way, if the photos make Joshua look like he's built like a little oak tree, it's because he is.

Heavy Lifting

I often say that I look forward to the day that my boys can mow the lawn, shovel the lane and complete other manual tasks for me. The truth of course is that, like most parents, a part of me wishes they would never grow up. They can drive me nuts but they're also lovable and funny. Children are as perfect as a person can be. However, in a blink of an eye they will be teenagers, then twenty-somethings, and then like me. I DO hope that they take on many of the manual tasks in my life, but  as those years come and pass I hope that we do all of the manual work together. Just like me and my Dad.

When we purchased our home the deck was rotting. We knew that and managed to squeeze 1.5 summers out of it. This spring we had to tear it out and build anew. My father, always eager to help, did most of the tearing out while I was beavering at my desk. We're making progress on the new one though. My boys, of course, take every opportunity to run into the backyard to chat with their grandfather and to play with the tools.

This....

Became this.....

Became this....not bad for two mornings of work!

Busy Baby

Josh is now 13 months and by far, out of the three boys, into everything. It is a very cute age, but busy, busy, busy!

His favourite things to get into include: 

• pots and pan drawer (pushes lids along the floor -- lovely sound -- and bashes and clangs the smaller pots)
•  tupperware drawer (general throwing of containers and lids and the odd time trying to put a lid on the container)
• broom and bag cupboard (at least he tries to clean up the mess he and the other two create)
• corner cupboard (dangerous, he almost removed the lid from my container of cocoa)
• pantry (anything and everything he can get his paws in, also likes to hide in there, see video)
• dishwasher (tries vehemently to get in there, has bionic hearing and as soon as door open, scrambles over only to throw his whole body down on the floor in  exasperation as once again being thwarted by mom and dad)
• bathroom (loves toilet, continues to try and play in the bowl, and love toilet paper even more -- amazing how fast they can spin that roll in mere seconds)
• shoes and boots (he has a thing for removing the laces from Jud's boots

And the list goes on...

Baby Steps

On March 22nd, Joshua turned 1 year old. Two weeks later he decided that enough was enough. Crawling was beneath him. It was for lesser beings. Crawling was for those who were prepared to watch. It was for those who were prepared to be left behind. Game on.

An Easter Visit

This past Easter Sunday Jill and I took the boys over to my grandmother's for a quick visit. She is 90-something and loves her babies. I should know her exact age, but I can never remember it and it doesn't really matter. So long as we show with Tim Horton's tea and a baby, we're welcome. I took a picture of her holding Joshua, who is now 1 year old and, by the account of many, the son who looks most like me. She is smiling in all of the photos and Joshua, who is usually a twisting, flailing monkey when  you try to hold him, sat placidly on her lap. She was happy and he was content. I couldn't have scripted it any better.

42 years ago she held me like that. Often. For two years I was the only grandchild, so I imagine I was held a good deal. I'm hoping that years from now William will remember his 'Nanny Donut'. He's a smart boy and at an age where memories begin to stick. If her health holds perhaps Bo will have some hazy memories too. It's unlikely Joshua will, but I'll have photos such as this to show him. One of my uncles was there and we later exchanged emails about work and a book. In his last email he deviated from the thread and wrote "I was thinking over the weekend how things are playing out so well for you. You really struck it rich with that wife of yours and three boys." I know that of course. And looking at that photo I realize that I'm one of the fortunate few who has been wealthy from day one. The boys wore us down, but it was a good Easter :)

William's Garage Sale

William isn't the world's greatest listener. He will tell you that he is great at everything, but truth be told, he's a poor listener. As a result, William experienced his first 'garage sale' as a skier this past weekend. For a four year old it was an epic wipeout. His skis flew off, his goggles came loose and he did a few somersaults at full speed. Had he chosen to listen to his father, there may have been a few more turns and fewer 'french fries' (skis straight) as he made his way down the hill. Needless to say, he was quite scared and upset when he struggled to his feet. Not only was he upset, he was done. The tears ran freely, his head hurt, he refused to put his skis back on and he wanted his Mom. Immediately.

I tried everything in the book to get his boots back into those bindings. There was no way we could end what had been a fabulous season on such a lousy note. His last memory could not be of eating snow while do 20 km/h. Bribery failed. This was bigger than candy. He wasn't open to negotiating either. In situations like these brow beating blows up in your face, and shaming a 4 year old simply isn't an option. After 20 minutes of tears and chatter, I played my best card. I let out a huge burped.

Burping tends to work with boys. He stopped crying and a happy twinkle appeared in his eyes. So I burped again. Only this time I claimed it was the snow that burped. Then the chairlift that burped and so on. These things were burping because Daddy was so heavy that they couldn't breathe. If there is one thing William loves, it's imaginative play. He also enjoys teasing me. So we were off and skiing yet again. I swear I forced myself to burp 3000 times in the next 1.5 hours. But we laughed and we skied on a sunny Spring day, so the chest pain was worth it.

A final note about listening and William. After what I just described above one might think that he would try to slow down on the hill. Might want to listen to his Dad and squeeze in a few turns. Well, one would be wrong. He DID begin to turn more because I told him that the snow monster would eat his skis if he knew where he was heading. So he had to turn to trick the Monster. He knows I'm full of crap but he loves a game, so it all works out in the end. But as we rode up the chairlift for what was likely our last run of the season, I asked him why he wouldn't listen to me and turn more. Did he not want to be more in control? Had he enjoyed falling? He was resting his chin on the bar, "relaxing" as he liked to call it, and turned his head to look at me.

"Daddy, you just have to let me do my thing"....the teen years should be fun.

William enjoying his monster hotdog from the Spring Skiing BBQ. Ate the whole thing.

The Joshman turns the big 1

It was Joshua's 1st birthday on Friday. Hard to believe, at yet it isn't, that he's already zoomed through his first 12 months of life. 

He is a feisty little guy, very much aware of his place in the family. A wallflower he is not. He likes to get his party on with Elmo and any music with a strong beat (he was giv'n her the other day when Jud played Queen) and loves yelling "Ma-Maaaaaa" first thing in the morning, rattling the crib bars while the other two whine for Daddy. 

You're still my little mama's boy with baby hulk hair. We luv ya and wouldn't want you any other way!

A few pics from his bday celebration. I love the last one. He looks so crazy.

Wind In My Face

We first put William on skis last year, when he was three years old. He was too young for lessons so most weekends I would take him to a local hill, ply him with jellybeans and hot chocolate, and catch him as he flew down the bunny hill. He knew that I would grab him before he crashed and therefore had no fear.

This year he was old enough for lessons, so we signed him up at Vorlage, a family oriented skill hill about 45 minutes from Ottawa. He was part of the Mosquito program and he loved every minute of it. His lessons ended  a week ago, so this past weekend I took him back to the hill to see what he had learned. His instructors had left us with the impression that he was tentative and would need to follow me down the hill. As we headed to the chairlift he pulled the goggles off of his face and set them atop his helmet. He looked up at me and said 'I love the wind in my face'.

 That set the tone for the morning:)

The first video is the top of his favourite run. The second is the bottom of his favourite run.

Did we miss them?

Wait until the end to draw your own conclusion...

So last week was Jud's Birthday, also our 5 year anniversary! The boys wanted a Transformers cake and I did my best. The best part of course was blowing out the candles. Josh was uber excited.

For our anniversary, we decided to take a much needed mini-break to Mont-Tremblant. We skied, relaxed, drank beer, ate nachos, and enjoyed some tranquility for three glorious days and nights while Jud's folks looked after the boys. I cannot tell you how great it was to get away!! We decided we need to get away more often...amazing how young we felt while away....

...and then back to reality...

Of course we missed them...sorta...

Siblings

Some people choose to space their kids apart. We did not. 

William is 20 months older than Bo, and Bo is 20 months older than Joshua. Yes, there is a lot of fighting over toys, pushing, kicking, punching and the list goes on.

There are also moments like these and they tend to outnumber the ones that make you go and hide in the bathroom.

Being in the middle, Bo is trying to find his place. He adores William, "Em" as he calls him, and loves playing with him. But there are times when William has a friend over and Bo gets pushed to the side. He tries to keep up but isn't quite there yet.

It's nice to see him engaging with Joshua. He's a good little big brother  :)

Music Soothes the Savage Beast

Our boys are part beast. At least 50%. As of late, Josh's new name is "Angry" (coined by Jud) to which the boys added "Bird" hence "Angry Bird". 

Josh likes to hit to express his frustrations at not being held 100% of the time, not eating whatever you're eating and being neglected for a millisecond. He especially enjoys hitting Jud, seemingly just for chuckles. 

William can be quite stubborn and demanding (no idea where he gets that from) and Bo's new name is melodrama. 

Mornings around here tend to be loud and crazy and as much as I am beginning to loathe poppy-dancy music, it seems to buy us moments here and there where I can sip my lukewarm tea. 

William's "Gangnum Style" has improved some, and Josh seems to like a strong beat. Not sure how Bo feels about any of this. 

As for me, I'm moving towards Bluegrass.

The Chairlift

William was 3 years old in 2012 and we put him on skis for the first time. For an hour each weekend we would hit a local ski hill, Camp Fortune, and he would ride the 'magic carpet' up and then zoom down the small hill. He knew full well that I would catch him before he hit anything and pop a jellybean into his mouth, so his introduction to skiing was safe, thrilling and tasty. This year he was old enough to take lessons. Based on input from friends who know the different ski hills well, we signed up at Vorlage, a place that focuses upon families.

We opted for a group lesson instead of private lessons because William is a social kid and because it's cheaper. We debated group vs private because when it came to swimming he did much better in a one-on-one environment. Shocking, I know. We are very glad that we went with group lessons, because in his class there are 4 kids and 3 instructors (well, 2 teaching aids). In essence, he gets one-on-one instruction. Ya us!

I normally take him to the hill on Sunday mornings and it's a nice little break from the daily household chaos. Jill finally clued in on this and for his 3rd class she took him skiing. It was my loss in more ways than one, because on that day he began using the chairlift. He loved it. As Jill noted, it was the first time he had ever seen the world from that perspective. He went up the chairlift 5 times. When they returned home he had a big smile plastered across his mug. We were unable to get a picture of his first chairlift ride, but this past weekend I managed to shoot a quick video of him coming down the hill. Not much of a slope when I went by them, so he's shuffling a lot. If you have the volume up, you'll hear William warning his instructor, who is skiing backwards, of the trees behind him. I found this funny:)

Good-bye January Blahhhhhhsssss...

So we, or I, haven't been blogging a whole lot. Got caught up in a bunch of writing stuff I had to figure out, which worked out in the end thankfully, and then it was cold here and I always just find January such a blah month. Suffice it to say that sometimes living it is enough....thank God for Modern Family.

Anyway, here's a video of William lip syncing to Bruno Mars. We've noticed how much he likes dancy pop music in the car and this song in particular. He'll often scramble for his sunglasses to look like a cool rock star then get into it.

A nice end to the January blahs!

Hmmmmm...

As anyone who reads this  blog knows, we have three boys who range in age from 10 months to just over 4 years. Our home is many things, but it is always, always, loud and busy. It dawned on me this morning that when Jill packs up the boys and herds them into the van for some routine outing I don't turn to her and say 'I love you'. I don't say 'I'll miss you'. I don't give her a quick kiss and say 'Have fun'. Nine times out of ten I say 'Good Luck!' and slowly close the door.....

And I'm serious when I say it. Good-freakin' luck. Something doesn't feel right about that:)

a new year and all that

Happy 2013. Wow. That year went turbo fast. Babies tend to speed up time I think. Josh is now 9 months old...

I don't know about you but I'm really feeling time these days. Maybe having kids does that to you. You feel like you have less of everything -- money, energy, patience, food, but especially time. More and more I feel those sands of time slipping through the hourglass and a heaviness in my chest to just get stuff done.

Ergo: 

I'm sure we could all get in better shape but the kicker I think in setting goals is to set a deadline. So, Jud and I made a list of all the things we'd like to accomplish this year and then put an end date for when it will *hopefully* get done. 

A big one for me is to get 3 scripts written. It is doable however it'll mean going offline for awhile, disappearing into a writing 'cave' and essentially writing. 

For those of you reading this who went to Woodbridge Farms Elementary school with me, you'll remember Mr. Cromie, our vice-principal. Mr. Cromie was da man. Hands down, he was he most liked teacher, no, he was the most liked human in that school. Everybody wanted Mr. Cromie for their math teacher or their P.E. teacher, or just someone to shoot the sh*t with. 

I have never forgotten the latin words for the Great Horned Owl -- Bubo virginianus -- Mr. Cromie's favourite animal, and I've also never forgotten a phrase he wrote down on the chalkboard in Grade 5 math:  If it is to be, it is up to me.

He told us to never forget those ten simple words and I haven't. Thanks Mr. C.

As for Jud's list, it isn't terribly exciting. Mainly stuff around the house (painting, new deck, more painting) and helping me with the scripts in the various stages of writing them.

But there is one and I *hope* Jud gets it done. It involves some creative writing and a contest run by the CBC. 

Those of you who know Jud know what a great writer he is. Even if you don't know him, from the few posts he's written, I think his voice is conveyed really well.

Now I may be a little biased but as writer who reads a lot of professional and amateur work, a strong voice that conveys emotion in as few words as possible is a rarity. If I had to boil Jud's "voice" down to one word it would be heart.

Jud has the ability to infuse his words with emotion that will make you smile, laugh, cry, giggle...essentially feel which is what writing is all about. 

The contest is nonfiction and Jud has this hilarious, almost too crazy to be true, story that has to be told. The world needs to hear this story Jud ;)

Maggie McGuire

The name summons a vision, does it not? It does for me. Mine contains sunshine and laughter, curly hair and a little girl treating me as her personal climbing apparatus. But for those who have never met a Maggie McGuire you can't deny that when you hear the name an image is conjured by your mind. A positive one, something infused with what could be called 'Irish energy'. You'd laugh with a Maggie McGuire, wouldn't you? Even as you read this you're likely wrestling with a smile. It's Maggie McGuire, we can't help it. You want to party with her.

Well, I have. Granted, she's only 11 as of today, January 4, 2013, but we've partied. When Maggie was born life changed for a lot of people. In our family, the Rasmussen/Jodoin clan, holidays had energy again, birthdays saw more cakes and it's safe to say that everyone felt younger for some reason. We became happier. My parents now have 11 grandchildren and each is special in their own way, but Mags was the first. She was the game changer. So was I. We're kindred souls kid! ;)

We wish we were there to celebrate your birthday with you. It would be wonderful to give you a hug and to snap a few photos of you blowing out the candles. I'm pretty sure I have a few hundred photos of you doing that over the past decade!

Much love from Ottawa;)

Perspective

Don't worry, this isn't a sappy post where we reflect upon the meaning of life, the importance of love and the power of hugs....by 'perspective' I mean 'what someone sees'. We have a couple of old digital cameras that William and Bo commandeered at some point in 2012. They figured out how to turn them on, take photos, view their photos and so on. I recently changed the batteries in the one William uses and had a look at the photos he had taken. Some of them aren't bad! Mind you, some are. Here are a few from his 2012 Collection :)

Nowhere to hide

Mommy on the move

One of about 30 pictures he took of the television

Daddy and Joshua

I don't even want to think about what Bo has done to my drink

Pretty sure a fight broke out after this shot

The 'naughty or nice' chart

Our resident St. Bernard

William has become Paparazzi

Incredibly unflattering

Notice Bo's camera to the left. I'm bound to find an image of the helicopter on his camera