Keaton will be turning a big-boy-three in just a few dodos; and this past weekend, we celebrated his milestone.
Lately, he’s been heavily invested in dinosaurs, so for this year’s birthday, I transformed his obsession into a rawr-some party to remember, with plenty of dino pals as invitees.
He knew he was going to be the centre of attention going into his birthday weekend; after all, he’d just received a big boy haircut — bye bye bowl cut — and he’d been hearing us talk about all the excitement surrounding his cake and balloons, and his family’s visit.
On this full day of celebration, my heart ached less. I felt grateful seeing my little chou grow so big. With his new haircut, he looked unrecognizable — he looked like a big kid! How handsome he is. And more importantly, how principled and honourable he’s grown to be, with so much love in his heart. His thirst for adventure is limitless. We’re so proud of him.
This is a little boy with so much depth. He was indeed over the moon with the dinosaur-themed birthday and birthday cake, and with all the cool gifts he’d received. But most of all, he deeply appreciated the simplicity and power of love and connection. The greatest gift to him, at the depths of it all, was really his family’s visit.
He’d been missing his aunts, uncle, and cousins greatly, even Snow, his doggie BFF, who’s a comical match to his hyperactivity. Watching the two- and four-legged troublemakers chase each other around was hilarious, for they kept each other entertained.
I could tell how safe and at peace he felt with everyone, and how healing it was to be surrounded by his family: he was able to play calmly with his toys and exist amongst everyone without a fuss, which isn’t characteristic of him on a regular day at home.
Keaton may be hyperactive and need constant stimulation and novelty, which includes expelling his energy regularly, but more than that, there was something much deeper that we always knew: he craved social interaction and friends. Many variables made it so that he doesn’t have many playmates — we feel a lot of guilt — but we try the best we could, with what we have, to give him such opportunities.
It was heartbreaking for him to learn that everyone was leaving when it felt like they’d just arrived. He sat on the stairs and for the first time, with his new haircut, he looked like an older boy, rather than a toddler, who was sad. It was both a beautiful and a sad sight to behold.
We reassured him that his aunts, uncle, and cousins would meet him again. Days, weeks, and months feel like an eternity to a kid. But the next reunion will be ever so sweet. Hopefully soon.
We’re blessed to live in the city and to have access to nature just a short drive away from our home. Lately, we’ve been exploring different trails nearby, which I hadn’t discovered until recently.
Walking through the woods has always been my favourite hobby or getaway; and now, more than ever, I’ve been needing its healing effect. So we’ve been taking these walks a few times a week, especially when temperatures are mild. It’s done me so much good so far.
Keaton’s been loving these winter hikes, too, especially looking out for birds, squirrels, and other little critters. It’s so cute to see how curious and excited he gets, and how he loves sitting on daddy’s shoulders during our walks. His big, happy smile makes my heart full.
My heart is complete during these simple moments. Carrying my sweet Gaia against me whilst walking alongside my son and husband in nature — there’s no happier place on earth.
PS. We came across two wild turkeys. I’d just noticed how beautiful they are — their colourful and shiny fur coat. Funnily, farther along the trail, they snuck up right behind my husband, just as he was taking a photo of us. Not sure if they were gangster turkeys trying to gang up on us.
It’s official: Bruno and I went on a date today, and we painted ceramics. It’s almost been three years since our first child was born — and two months since our second arrived — and between the two kids, I think we’ve been on perhaps five or so official dates. One might ask how our relationship is able to survive like this, especially with kids. Perhaps it’s really because we’re both stubborn, and bickering like kids on acid gives us purpose; and my husband keeps my spine in tact through nightly back fat massages and I keep him alive through daily meals. (Jokes aside, the “how” is that we just appreciate little everyday moments together, even when it’s hard.)
Today wasn’t the type of date where we spontaneously left our kids with my parents and ran off for a quick coffee next to their house. It was graceful: we had an activity planned, my parents were aware of babysitting the kids, and we left for a few hours. It worked perfectly, too. Keaton was more independent now, and while Gaia’s breastfeeding, she was fast asleep in her car seat when we dropped her off, so we knew she’d be in a cozy slumber for hours on end. And so we drove off, on our heist and mini adventure.
Painting ceramics was something I’d done a few times when I lived in Montreal, the first time being with my dear friend, the second time being with my sister, and the third experience being with Bruno and his parents. I missed the experience dearly and have been itching to do it again. It’s a fun and relaxing creative outlet, and I enjoy sharing the experience with someone I love, especially when there are plentiful moments of silence between us, which, in essence, is the ultimate presence.
Today’s experience was sublime. We went to Art Haven in Barrhaven, and while I was disappointed by the lack of variety of ceramics there — Ceramic Cafe in Montreal was an oasis — I still found the ceramic I’d wanted to paint: a little lady gnome. I love gnomes, and since I’ve been missing the little girl in me, she was symbolically the perfect choice.
I’m excited to see how she’ll turn out when she exits the kiln, especially the sprinkles on her skin. (I’d indeed chosen a shade of paint with sprinkles for her skin, because at this point in my life, I’m ready to retire as a functional citizen of society and become a unicorn instead.) I’m equally intrigued by how her black and brown highlights, reflecting my own hair colour, will manifest. The final colours will all turn out more bold and vibrant.
Bruno’s mug was intended to be a dragon in a den, but it turned out, in his words, to be a “demonic rabbit.” We were a few hours in to our heist, and he’d pondered whether or not to draw black lines for the wood effect since we knew our daughter might wake up at any moment. (Even on a date, time has a noose around our neck. We were very much aware that we might even have to leave without having finished our projects. Such is parenthood.)
On my end, even if I was constantly aware of the time and felt a pang of worry, on the whole, I felt the most peaceful and relaxed I’ve ever felt in a long time. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this calm. Painting the little gnome ceramic and being in my own bubble, while having a nice time with my husband, was my happy place today. I’m also proud of our little creations.
UPDATE. Here’s how they turned out! Pretty cute. 🙂
***
As I write about our experience painting ceramics, our daughter is officially over two months old. She was born in mid-December, just in time for the festive holidays.
Much time and many events and milestones have passed since then, and because the moments have gone, as well as their authenticity, I won’t attempt to rehash what’s already dissipated. But I must say that my heart never ceases to swell with happiness having her in our lives. A joke I made with my husband was that if we had a difficult firstborn, then the universe has to give us an easy secondborn. It’s a balance in the universe; it’s the order of things. Lo and behold, I was right.
Gaia is a sweet-tempered and easygoing baby. She’s also very social and adores social interaction and communication. She loves to listen intently, lift her eyebrows with excitement, and smile. She’d started smiling socially even before she turned one month old. I love it most when she waits for lady chats with me before bedtime. She anticipates me sharing my thoughts and feelings with her. She’s a chatty one, our little G.
To me, being a second-time mom is infinitely harder than being a first-time mom. Not just in the basics of juggling to keep two kids alive every day, whilst also tending to their conflicting needs. It’s not just having a split brain every waking moment and feeling like my hip will dislocate and hit the floor running to greener pastures. It’s something more complex and specific to our experience after having a second baby: it’s the pain of stark contrasts, the pain of ignorance, the pain of relief, and the pain of possibilities.
Yesterday was a spontaneous Christmas-y day — my favourite kind of day. Bruno had his haircut lined up for noon, and with some time to kill in the morning, we decided to go to the Christmas Farmers’ Market at The Log Farm. It would be our first Christmas Market of the season.
Because it was the opening day, it was packed with cars and eager visitors. Keaton was particularly smitten with the ice cream truck, which sold extravagant hot chocolates that featured snowman marshmallows, ice cream, and a cute-as-a-button gingerbread house.
Sharing this hot chocolate with my little guy was the highlight of my visit. He was so kind to offer his daddy a snowman marshmallow, too, even if they were meant for him to enjoy.
That evening, we also spontaneously attended the Magic of Lights at Wesley Clover Parks. We were lucky because the weather was mild, with just some sprinkles of snow along the road. Otherwise, it would’ve been a challenging drive (we’re still waiting on our winter tires order).
The holiday lights drive-through experience was so magical. It was our first time doing it. Keaton wanted to get out of the car and walk around, and rightfully so, because it was so enticing and colourful. He loved the dinos most of all, and even cried for his daddy to go back and do another stroll, which of course we couldn’t because there were cars behind us. Petit bout de chou.
We also tried our fireplace for the first time last night! We were trying to figure out ways to keep the fire going, with Bruno grabbing logs and sticks from the yard. We even tried using cardboard recycling. (I guess that’s a good way to get rid of recycling, too, hah.) Unfortunately, our fire didn’t stick around for long — an ultimate fail — but oh well, we’ll try again soon.
This morning, we ventured to Ian’s Christmas Adventure Park. There were plenty of fresh Christmas trees to choose from and cut. There were also pre-cut ones. But because we already had a tree at home, we’ll be saving this activity for next year’s holidays. I think it would make for a memorable and sweet first family tradition.
Instead, we enjoyed the activities offered at the farm. Keaton’s favourite part was meeting Santa and taking a tractor ride with him. (This gentleman was filled with warmth.) We also walked through the Candy Cane Lane and visited Santa’s Workshop, and Keaton fed the rabbits, one of which tried to eat his scarf. The animals were so fluffy.
It was a very cold day given the intense wind, and ever more, I felt the weight of my own big pregnant belly, equipped with the full knowledge that our daughter could very well be born right then and there, in the snow and in the middle of a farm. It could’ve also happened in Santa’s Workshop, too. Imagine that.
Gaia’s arrival is imminent and could happen at any moment, so I’ve been trying to enjoy as many Christmas activities as possible before I’m homebound with a little snuggle bear.
If there’s a Christmas location where Hallmark movies should be filmed in Ottawa, it would be at Tinseltown Christmas Emporium, a local, family-owned Christmas shop that’s beyond magical.
Walking past this store, be it during the hot summer months or the festive winter season, is always a dreamy experience, no matter the time of year. With towering nutcracker statues, shades of festive red, and decorations that adorn the windows, one’s senses and lust for all-things Christmas are bound to be tickled.
Words can’t describe the feeling one feels when walking inside. There are nooks and crannies of decorations and ornaments everywhere, and it smells like holiday pine and floral cinnamon. It’s become our family tradition to go there yearly to buy ornaments for our Christmas tree.
My husband picked this gingerbread family ornament, to honour our soon-to-be completed family of four once our daughter arrives. She’ll be here just in time for Christmas!
Keaton chose this train ornament this year. He was really enamoured with the moving train in the store. It encompassed a magical winter village, and looked like something one would see in a film or catalogue.
Last year, he’d chosen a West Highland Terrier doggie in a red car as his ornament. It was the first ornament that he’d chosen himself, so it was particularly special.
I chose this squirrel ornament in a wreath for our daughter’s first Christmas ornament. Since we’ll be naming her Gaia, which means Mother Earth or Mother Nature, I felt that this ornament was fitting. The squirrel and the leaves remind me very much of nature. (I also love squirrels, I must admit. And shamelessly so.)
We also put up our Christmas tree this past weekend, with some festive Christmas music in the background for sweet company. My parents, Keaton’s Kong-Ma, were there to take part in the experience as well. Now that they’re very old, these family moments are deeply meaningful to me.
It was amazing to see Keaton put up some ornaments. He looked like an older kid helping us; in fact, he is! How he’s grown from his little self, whom I recall was so much smaller last year. His daddy even had to hold him up to help out with the ornaments; and now, he’s all independent!
It will be our first Christmas in our first home, and I’m already feeling all the cozy and warm vibes. I love, love our Christmas set-up. I’m looking forward to movie nights by the lit fireplace with my husband, and above all, to having our dear daughter join our family. She’s the best gift we could ask for this year. We’re lucky to have her just in time for the holiday season.
Every year, for Halloween, we try to take Keaton to some Halloween-themed festivities. Whereas last year, we took him to a nearby local park for some Halloween pumpkin-carving and bake sale fun, featuring costumes, this year, we took him to the Canada Agriculture and Food Museum for their Barnyard Halloween event. We were so happy to hear Keaton exclaim with joy when he realized we’d arrived at this farm.
It felt very heartwarming to be back here, where we used to take our son routinely, back when we used to live nearby. We didn’t have a car back then, but luckily for us, walking here with a stroller was manageable, be it during the warm or cold winter months. Now, we had the pleasure of returning — this time with a car of our own. How different and more easy life is. The freedom of movement and comfort is something that I can’t fail to appreciate on a daily basis.
The event was packed with families and littles ones, many of which were dressed in their costumes. It was such a cute sight to behold. This year, Keaton was a dragon, or what others might mistakingly take for a dinosaur. (Sometimes, I, too, would think he’s a dino.) Our little dragon had a lot of fun amongst kids his age. He enjoyed his beloved playground and seeing the farm animals again. He particularly liked the piggies this time around, and of course, his quail buddies never ceased to captivate him. Again, he’d spent the most time observing the quails.
We also got to enjoy some games at the barn dance location, as well as pick a pumpkin from the pumpkin patch. I’m a sucker for little pumpkins — they were all kids size! How stinkin’ adorable. As if they were made for little hands. Keaton refused to enter the scary barn, so my husband and I took turns visiting it. The set-up was really spooky and well-curated.
Finally, it was October 31st, trick-or-treating. This year, Keaton went with his new pal, Amelie. He was a dragon and she was Skye from Paw Patrol. It was Amelie’s first trick-or-treating experience ever (she’d recently arrived with her mom and grandma from abroad). It was so fun for Keaton to have a friend with him, whom he adores deeply, and to share this experience with her. It also warms my heart that we were able to give Amelie and her mom and grandma a new experience and memory. They enjoyed it so much! Grandma had a blast — she was so youthful in her laughter and smiles.
My husband and I also had a wonderful time as parents. There’s something endearing and lively about observing our kid trick-or-treating and being excited and experiencing the simple wonders of life. We’re thankful for a local experience, wonderful friends, and for the physical and mental freedom and privilege of movement and joy — even if it’s our birthright — because it’s not always a given, depending on one’s life circumstances. I think about it often, to keep perspective in life. I’m also thankful to my dear husband who’s such a dedicated father, who guided the kids around and kept the fun alive, and who’s always there for Keaton when it mattered, and every day and all moments in between.
When I look back on old Halloween pictures from last year, I noticed just how much Keaton’s grown in one year. Last Halloween, he was baby Batman — we were the Batman family — and he was so much smaller. I even recall him crying when we went trick-or-treating at the very first house, only to get excited afterwards because he finally understood he was getting candies and chocolates. Now, one year later, his physique and personality have evolved immensely; and what a treat it is to be able to witness that.
PS. Keaton would say “tank-oon,” instead of “thank you” when he went trick-or-treating. We noticed it’s been his version of “thank you” lately. It’s so hilarious because he seems to have made up a hybrid of “thank you” between English and Khmer. Brilliant, actually.
Fall Rhapsody in Gatineau Park is a must-see during the autumn season. Leaves have changed colours and autumn is in full essence — it’s a magnificent sight to behold.
The last time I’ve been to Gatineau Park was, I believe, in autumn of 2014. I’d met with an outdoors hiking group in Ottawa — yes, with strangers who were really kindred spirits — and together, we embarked on a hiking adventure in the beautiful Gatineau mountains. It had been a long time since I’ve last stepped foot there, and my soul’s been yearning this familiar and comforting — as well as healing — experience.
This past weekend, I had the pleasure of tracing my footsteps to the past. We drove up to the Mackenzie King Estate part of Gatineau Park. This Estate was home to Canada’s 10th and longest-serving Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, who’d later gifted his well-loved property to all Canadians. Today, and for many years, it’s become an attraction to many guests, loved for its aesthetic and historical value.
I haven’t been to the Mackenzie King Estate in particular since I was a pea size of about maybe five or six years old. I remember the photos of my childhood trip, but being back in person didn’t feel as nostalgic as I thought it would — it seemed rather unfamiliar. For my parents, on the other hand, they remembered their visit fondly. It warmed my heart to be able to bring them back here.
I love me a photo of myself walking in an abundant pile of leaves. At eight months pregnant, walking long distances has become challenging, for I feel all kinds of pains and discomforts. Even moving at all is a challenge (imagine a whale trying to flip over in bed). I missed my stamina and energy at this very moment, because hiking has always been my favourite activity; and more than ever, I felt the limitations of my own body. The sound of the water here was most peaceful. Keaton loved touching the water. He spent some time here with his grandpa, Kong-Kong. Here goes our little explorer, again trying to discover, dismantle, and/or build something. It was a tender feeling to be back here after so many decades away — this time with a child of my own — and to see him enjoy being in nature so much. It was also, however, a difficult experience.
After many years away from the woods, coupled with motherhood, I had a deep yearning for solitude, reflection, and rejuvenation — and almost painfully so. But with my energetic toddler, moments like these have become rather rare, or if existent, full of disconnect. We all need moments to ourselves — and to varying degrees — but for myself, a solitary being at my core, this pain of lack is felt almost tenfold. I missed being alone in the woods, with only silence and shuffling leaves for company. In essence, I missed myself.
Keaton is such a kind-hearted kid, who’s so full of imagination, will, and compassion. And I love that he’s able to enjoy the little things in life: flowing water, colourful leaves, branches with which to create stories. Watching him walk through the woods — and yes, even running off and driving us bonkers — was very meaningful. When I look at this photo, despite the imperfections and fatigue of life, I see home: my son and nature.
Being back at Moorside on the Mackenzie King Estate brought about an “a-ha” moment. It was then that I remembered my childhood visit here, because I recalled the yellow houses where I took photos with my parents and our family friends at the time. I made sure to take a photo of my parents here during this visit, because it was also a past-meets-present experience for them.
I adored the architecture of the home and getting a glimpse of Mackenzie King’s aesthetic tastes and personality. The English cottage look and feel was simple yet elegant. It was neat to learn that it was also a venue where King had held meetings with other political figures — his countryside home a true source of pride.
My heart can be at peace now, for this year, I’ve had the opportunity to visit Gatineau Park in the fall — a dear place of mine — and to share this memory with my family.
This past long weekend was intimate and fun-filled. My sister (Auntie Mel Mel) came to visit us for Thanksgiving, and especially to see her dear nephew. It had been a while and Keaton missed his auntie. He seemed to instinctively know right away when we asked him a few days prior who was visiting.
Being almost eight months pregnant and preparing all the food was tiring, to be sure, as I’d spent the whole day in the kitchen. But my husband was helpful in taking our son to the park to give me the space needed to get things done. I don’t think I sat down that day with all the cooking and cleaning, which later prompted a short syncope episode.
It was a lovely meal. I did pretty good, which I’m proud of. It made me joyous to see my family — mom, dad, my sister, my husband, my son — all gathered at the table and enjoying food and time together. I was particularly happy to see my sister eating a few hearty plates, especially because she’d been on a strict diet for many years due to debilitating health reasons. To see her indulge after successfully improving her health was heartwarming.
I’d baked a pumpkin cream cheese bundt cake for dessert, which I think was one of the best of its kind I’ve baked so far. Though, aesthetically, this time around it didn’t turn out so cute. I also tried piping some decorative black icing on top to give the cake a Halloween touch, but I made it even worse. I had to cover up the black tracks somehow, so I sprinkled an unforgiving amount of orange sprinkles on top, whilst using red icing blobs as the glue. Not the cutest cake, but very scrumptious nonetheless.
I’ve also been craving pie from Rockaberry in Montreal, so my sister kindly ordered one and brought it with her on her trip here. Their infamous blueberry crumb cheese pie is my favourite, but this time I opted for their pumpkin pie to honour the season. It was also an emotional decision because it reminded me of my husband and I’s marriage weekend, where we’d ordered pumpkin pie to celebrate. I’ve been missing Montreal a lot these days, more so Verdun where my husband and I shared our first milestones. We’d often order cakes from Rockaberry, and seeing their cake again on our table served as a sweet reminder.
My sister was here for the long weekend, so of course, a farm visit had been arranged. We went back to Saunders Farm, which we’d visited this past summer with Nana, my mother-in-law. This was the first visit for my sister and parents. My husband and I knew we wanted to go back; after all, they’re wildly known for their spooky Halloween activities.
Since it was a daytime visit, the activities were family-friendly. I could tell my sister enjoyed the visit, especially sharing the experience with her nephew. My parents, too, had fun. It’s not often that they get to spend time with their daughters and grandkids, doing activities, all at once. Keaton also got to enjoy the Halloween festivities, without them being too much of a scary experience for him. He especially enjoyed the usual play structures and jumbo jumpers.
We went into one of the haunted houses, which, my husband being the Halloween fanatic that he is, ushered us to try. The staging and the decorative and musical elements were impressive. I was especially proud of Keaton and my elderly parents for making it through. Though, Keaton did hold on tight to his auntie the whole time, and my mom also led my dad by the hand the whole way — to keep him alive, that is, because he was so distracted taking videos that he might not have seen where he was going. I’m surprised I didn’t pee myself, either. As a pregnant woman with serious urinary incontinence, I really should’ve worn adult diapers. Elderly people, a toddler, a pregnant woman… I’m sure we looked like a funny bunch.
After that haunted house, my husband and I went to the witch’s coven on our own, as everyone else had had enough scares for the day. Despite all the witchcraft and satanic ritual imageries, I must say that the walk-through was rather romantic. I loved the autumn feels and sceneries. The haunted hayride was also so much fun. The line-up was long and it was especially brutal in the sharp cold, but it was worth it. We all got a good scare on the wagon. Keaton just cuddled next to daddy whilst holding his big lollipop. I’m even convinced that because of the speed and bumps of the hayride, my baby probably really did do a u-turn inside my belly (she was breech). Who would’ve known!
This past weekend, we ventured to the Gatineau, Quebec side for a farm adventure. Having grown up in Ottawa but spent much of my childhood crossing the bridge with my parents, driving there again — with my own family this time around — after decades, was very reminiscent of old times. I loved the drive there. There’s something relaxing about the Aylmer side of Gatineau. All the nature and trees… it was incredibly scenic and calming.
When we arrived at Potager Eardley, I noted just how busy it was. It was buzzing with human bees. There was beauty in the farm’s simplicity, which I appreciated. There was just enough to keep kids and families entertained and smiling. There was a simple playground, some farm animals, and the shop where one could purchase fresh fruits and veggies, fall decorations, and baked goods as well as coffee. We ordered a waffle with fruits and whipped cream for Keaton, which he — and ultimately, we — enjoyed greatly.
An activity that we did was apple picking. We embarked on the tractor wagon to the apple orchard, and upon arrival, I noted how the apples just adorned the trees like fall ornaments. There was an abundance of apples. While we all enjoyed apple picking, the experience was really dedicated to my mom, who finds the utmost joy in the activity. As soon as she hopped off the wagon, she was off on her own solo adventure filling her bag. It was a funny and cute sight to see her enjoy something so much. (It’s rare to see my mom do anything fun or for herself, so these moments are very meaningful.)
Mom’s bag was filled with Gala apples (her pick), and oh boy, were they ever crisp, juicy, and scrumptious! I don’t think I’ve ever had a Gala apple that fresh. Keaton also enjoyed an apple or two whilst running around the orchard and being playful. It was so sweet to see him hanging by Mama’s side while she was picking apples. He adores her so much, as well as his Kong-Kong. Following our apple picking adventure, we ventured back to the farm to embark on another adventure: pumpkin picking at the pumpkin patch, at the farm’s second location.
We were about to leave when Keaton wanted to stay back and play at the hay bales. There were plenty of kids there, and that’s where he met his new friend, David, who was a bit older than he was. At this point, being pregnant and tired, I’d waited in the car with my mom, while my husband and dad stayed out with Keaton. According to my husband, Keaton had had a blast running around with the older boy, who was so smitten with him he’d call him, “baby, baby!” I’m not sure what it is — perhaps it’s his charisma and confidence — but older children tend to gravitate towards Keaton, and vice versa. For some reason, they just love playing with him. It’s so endearing to watch.
Finally, we drove to the farm’s pumpkin patch, which was located only five minutes from the main farm by car. As we were driving into the parking lot, I was astonished by all the orange pumpkins I saw from afar. I must’ve screeched with excitement many times over. I was so excited to grab a wagon and run off to the fields. It was the most magical autumn sight I’d ever witnessed my whole life.
I’ve always wanted to go to a pumpkin patch ever since I was young. I just never had the opportunity, because without a car and without those around me who could venture far, it just wasn’t feasible. Finally, years later, I found myself at one; and it was the most dreamy pumpkin patch I could’ve ever imagined. There were thousands of pumpkins — an endless sight to behold — that were scattered geometrically to perfection in their chaos.
So far, I’ve been disappointed by the pumpkin patches at farms I’ve visited in Ottawa. The pumpkins in the pumpkin patches were either scarce, or there was just a display of pumpkins that were pre-picked and laid out in the fields. But this one was real; it really was where pumpkins had been harvested and grown. I may be a serious geek, but I definitely swooned over this pumpkin patch. One could be a mother and still be a big kid at heart, right?
Kong-Ma and Keaton also enjoyed the experience. Mom had picked a few lovely pumpkins, and Keaton and I both chose our own, as well. As we were leaving, my husband also bought a few drinks for Keaton that were in a cute pumpkin bottle. It was apple cider, which I wasn’t aware of. I could see now why Keaton drank both bottles, and why so many people rave over it. I don’t think I’ve ever had apple cider; but when I tasted it, it was so fresh and heavenly. We should’ve bought the jugs!
We’ve got a whole collection of pumpkins that we’ve been collecting from all the farms we’ve visited so far. I love how they add colour and vibrancy to the home. Though, I can’t say for now that we’ll stop there. Maybe our whole house will become a pumpkin patch itself.
For now, we’ve been keeping the pumpkins inside the house. We’d left Keaton’s pumpkins and gourds outside in our backyard once, alongside our mums — it was his wish — but the squirrels and chipmunks ate them! (Keaton’s reaction was hilarious. He was so distraught.) In fact, one day a squirrel came knocking at our door, mayhaps looking for Keaton, whom it knew owns all the good stuff.
My husband and I’s five-year anniversary, and two-year wedding anniversary, is fast approaching. Because we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving next weekend with my sister and parents — Canadian Thanksgiving happens earlier than its American counterpart — we decided to celebrate our anniversary earlier, and to do a very simple activity: a romantic walk along the Mer Bleue Bog Trail.
As a couple, we rarely have the time to do activities together in the midst of our busy lives. In fact, since Keaton was born — we’re also expecting a second child — we rarely went on a date or had time to ourselves. Thus, we really appreciate simple moments where we can simply be and exist alongside each other, and be present.
The Mer Bleue Bog Trail was a perfect pick for us that day. We ventured in the early morning, so it was still relatively calm and quiet, with very few visitors. We enjoyed the silence most of all, and hearing the trees and plants dancing with the wind’s shake and prod.
We’d stopped here for a short while. While it was a chilly morning, the sun shining directly at us provided us with a natural warm blanket on our skin. This is where I began to cry. It had been years since I last spent time in nature, by myself in solitude or with my dear husband. These were years where I’d felt the most distanced from nature, and ultimately, from myself. Now, I wasn’t with my son, who needed my mind, heart, and soul at every moment. I could finally feel myself feel and think.
Being in this moment allowed me to feel calm and safe. It was a conducive environment to concoct an emotional me. All that had been repressed had no choice but to surface. My husband held me as he encouraged me to let my emotions run their course. I can’t hide from myself when I’m in nature. Nature isn’t easily fooled. It’s a wise teacher. It sees, it invites, it opens, it heals.
I don’t think I’ve seen so many beautiful birds at once. There were blue jays, little black and white chubby birds that would sit on one’s hand (I’m not sure what they’re called), snakes, and numerous chipmunks — at least that my eyes were able to detect. It was my first time seeing a snake in person. It was a baby garter snake. I’d heard rustling in the leaves and thought it was a little chipmunk or frog, only to realize it was a snake! (I’m deathly afraid of snakes, but this little guy was actually, dare I say, cute.)
Our date lasted perhaps an hour or so — we then took off to grab some Montreal style smoked meat that my husband had been craving — but it was the most wholesome date we could’ve asked for. We came home to ourselves and to each other, and ultimately, to our son.
The walk was so neat that we invited my parents to come along to the Bog with Keaton later in the afternoon. Alas, we found ourselves there a second time that day. What a treat in nature it was.
We had to wake up Keaton from his nap in the car, because at that point, my parents had already been on the go. They were having fun without us! Keaton quickly caught up, and when he saw his Kong-Ma from afar, he yelled for them to wait for him. It was so cute.
The whole walk along the boardwalk was surprisingly relaxing with our energetic toddler. He listened well and stayed alongside us, and was a very good sport. We were very proud of him. He also liked to narrate — and police — what he was observing. Such a funny little dude.
Yesterday’s visit to Proulx Farm, which was only a few steps from Orleans and a 30-minute drive east of downtown Ottawa.
Every year, the farm is transformed into an autumn- and Halloween-themed playground. It really is an enjoyable experience for families, couples, or individuals — everyone, really! There’s just so much to see and explore.
We appreciated how vast and open, yet how well-organized, the farm and its activity set-up was. The tractor wagon ride was our favourite activity. It was actually a long ride around the farm — not just a quick tour — that encouraged us to observe all the Halloween decorations and animated hay bales along the way. The hay bales were so impressive in their creativity. I loved the ox and the cow. We were also introduced to a haunted Halloween house, which, although Keaton was hesitant to enter at first, by the end of it, enjoyed so much, he exclaimed, “Oh, nice!”
We also loved that the tractor driver was able to drop us off at our desired activity. We got off at the pumpkin patch along with another family. They’d left right away, perhaps because the hike to the field was patchy and full of tall grass and dirt. So, we were on our own and enjoyed all the quiet and solitude in the world. There weren’t many pumpkins at the patch, unfortunately, but the experience was still a treat. Keaton chose one he liked. Shortly after, another tractor wagon came to pick us up along the way. (We never saw the other family after this experience, and I do wonder if they’d gone to the maze after the pumpkin patch… and if they indeed got lost and never made it out.)
There was also an abundance of activities for kids to enjoy at the farm: animal petting, mazes, bouncy castles, face painting, treehouses and playgrounds, you name it. Keaton didn’t want to get his face painted this time around. We were bummed because he was so cute when he was a tiger the very first time he got his face painted. (Oh well.) We also liked that there were many picnic tables to have snacks and lunch, and they also sold hot dogs and burgers.
We’d spent a whopping four plus hours at the farm — Keaton fell asleep hard in the car when we left — and prior to leaving, we grabbed some more pumpkins for the home. There were so many varieties of pumpkins of different shapes, colours, and sizes. Of course, it was bright and sunny and the leaves were still green, but if it’d been a cloudy, crispy sweater weather kind of day, with orange and red tones in the trees, it would’ve made for the perfect autumn scene.
toumemoir 