Apple-picking as a family of 4

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Keaton likes to play pretend that the cat is real (I think he longs for a kitty).

The start of September is always filled with hope and rejuvenation. It’s also when we put up our autumn decor. Last year was particularly exciting, as it was our first autumn in our first home (I was pregnant with Gaia). This year, all the autumn tingles are multiplying, because now, Gaia is here with us (we’re now a family of four)! She’s grown so much since her birth, and is so much of her own person already.

First apple-picking of the season at Mountain Orchards

Small but delicious silken apples

The first autumn activity we did this year was apple-picking at Mountain Orchards. I recall apple-picking at a different orchard around this time last year with my parents, and being pregnant with Gaia. I still can’t believe that one year later, she’s here with us and sitting up for photos with her brother and trying to hold and bite apples, while having the time of her life!

Both Keaton and Gaia had a lot of fun picking apples and taking part in the kids’ activities. There were wooden toy horses, a straw jump tent and playground, and a forest trail and corn maze, among other things. Going on a weekday meant that we pretty much had the whole place to ourselves, even the wagon ride. Keaton had a blast as usual. It was Gaia’s first time, and she screeched and flailed with excitement the whole way through.

Because we’d visited on a quiet weekday, there were no apple cider donuts — they’re a must-try when visiting this orchard — so we were all a bit bummed, especially Keaton who was looking forward to eating one. We did buy some apple cider from their shed instead, and on the way home grabbed Keaton a donut.

Avonmore Berry Farm and a furry pal

A few days later, we did another apple-picking activity. This time, we visited Avonmore Berry Farm. Even if this farm is known to harvest tasty berries in the summer, they’re equally equipped with fields full of blooming apple trees later on in the year.

The entrance was enchanting; it reminded me of an idyllic scene from an English classic novel. Upon entering, we were greeted by three golden retrievers, who, I’ve learned from the ladies working at the Pantry, belonged to nearby neighbours. Apparently, they love frequenting the farm to visit guests.

Surely enough, they became a great source of companionship during our visit. These friendly and well-trained doggos were the highlight for Keaton. One had followed us all the way to the orchard, crossing the road with us with such impressive intuition and spatial memory. (Come to think of it, I think it followed us simply because it wanted Keaton’s bun.)

Here, we picked paula red apples. While many of the apples were damaged due to the recent hail storm, we did manage to find enough good ones to fill our bag.

These apples were tangy and tart — just perfect for the way my mom and I would eat them traditionally. We’d mix salt, sugar, and spicy red peppers, and then dip the apple slices in. In our culture, we tend to eat sour apples this way. It really does hit the spot.

Fun family activities

I think my husband enjoyed the swing more than our child.

This photo is so dear to me; I could see and feel the friendship between a little boy and his four-legged companion.

Towards the end of our visit, we got ice cream and this doggo followed Keaton the whole time. Something comical, sad, and suspect had happened, though: Keaton dropped his ice cream cone and the doggo rushed to eat it all. Keaton cried of course, but I must admit that I had a laughing spell from afar, as it was an adorable yet equally comical sight. (I’d also told him not to tempt the doggo.)

My husband suspected that perhaps it wasn’t accidental. Perhaps the doggy had booped him with his tail so that he’d drop the ice cream. Perhaps it wasn’t even the doggy’s first time pulling this trick. Whatever the case, it was a cute-as-a-button kind of day.

MacIntosh apples at Orleans Fruit Farm

I have to admit that in the span of a week, we went apple-picking three times. The third and last time, thus far, was with my parents and sister and niece (who’d visited us from Montreal). It was a hot day, so the trip to the farm was very short.

The apples at Orleans Fruit Farm were healthy, ginormous, and plentiful. I was surprised. I’d almost overlooked this farm because I’d thought it would be minuscule in scope. I was wrong. The farm was vast and the sight was picturesque, with sloped fields that were lined with endless luscious apple trees. They even had scrumptious apple cider.

While their prices were the most steep compared to the other two orchards we’d visited, the fact that they’re the closest farm to the city — at least where we are — is very convenient for us.

Mums at Millers’ Farm & Market

We also returned to Millers’ Farm for our new annual fall tradition: picking up mums for our backyard. Keaton loves helping me choose the mums and putting them in our wagon.

While we didn’t buy any pumpkins, they were much to be adored. The orange colours induced many feelings of warmth and coziness in me. I’m really looking forward to cold sweater weather and going to all the pumpkin patches we can humanly muster, and to having Gaia experience her first autumn season in all its rays of beauty.

Firsts

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Keaton did something new: he went to visit his uncle’s/my brother’s house in Montreal. Twice so far this summer, even! This was a big event for him because he’d never visited his uncle’s home since he was born, even if he was born in Montreal and my brother lives there. He was a pandemic baby who’d only known our home and his grandparents’ (his Kong-Ma’s) home. These were the only two homes that he’s ever had the opportunity to step foot in, in the three years of his life.

For us, it felt surreal to be back in Montreal after having moved to Ottawa in 2021. We missed it immensely, and we knew for certain: if the cards had aligned for us, we’d move back there in a heartbeat. Montreal has its vivacious vibes, and art and culture scene, that can’t be beat. That’s a long conversation to be had, of course. But alas, the precious moment wasn’t for us. It was reserved for Keaton, and seeing him experience a new home environment for the first time.

He adored being at his uncle’s house. A social kiddo, he loved being around his older cousins and hanging out — or causing trouble, really — with their doggy, Snow. While his cousins are much older than him and had exams to study for, it was endearing to see them interacting and playing with him. I was wildly amused at the scene of a little tornado causing a ruckus, whilst two teenagers wished for peace and quiet in their want to teen.

The highlight for Keaton was seeing his uncle’s motorcycles and garage full of tools. He was in for a lucky surprise, for his uncle had a mega sportbike and motorcycle collection that would entertain him well into the next full moon. We, especially my brother, were in such awe of the little dude, and how fascinated he was by all the gadgets. He felt and looked like a mini adult in his calculated movements.

Keaton was so steadfast in his desire to help build motorcycles and “fix” parts. He was highly focused and in tune with the tasks at hand, and his attention to detail was impressive. His problem-solving skills are born from his bottomless well of creativity. It takes a lot for me to gauge his response or attention; but if he’s interested in something, oh boy, is he ever invested.

He was sad to return home of course, but being the fair and understanding kid that he is, he accepted that it was time. Thus, he went around to give everyone a kiss and say thank you, which was later followed by ensuring that his little sister was wrapped up safely in her car seat, and that she had her toys. Keaton is a private individual, and kindness in him is seen in the microscopic actions rather than in the grand gestures, for which I hold deep adoration.

Another first for Keaton was attending a carnival. I remember loving these when I was a kid, most namely our local Super Ex and all the fun rides that took place in Little Italy during the Italian Festival, and how much fun they were to little me. I imagined the same for him.

Indeed, for his first time, he sure had a fantastic time. I was surprised that he didn’t fuss or cry on the rides. He was actually much braver and more confident than I’d anticipated. He loved going on the moto ride most of all (of course paying homage to his experience at his uncle’s).

Strawberry picking at Millers’ Farm & Market

It was our first time strawberry picking, too, this summer. We went early on in the strawberry season, so we were blessed with a patch all to ourselves, with all the ripe and juicy strawberries in the world. Keaton had a lovely time picking and eating strawberries. Gaia also enjoyed sitting her little bum on the ground and exploring the textures of her surroundings. She made a funny face when I fed her a strawberry. I guess she found it sour.

Blueberry picking at Proulx Farm

Gaia squeezing out all the juices to her heart’s content

We also picked blueberries. Although we did it later in the blueberry season, blueberries were plentiful and luscious at Proulx Farm. Some were sweet; others were tart. But the experience was lovely. I was happy to see the kids doing their usual ritual: Keaton picking and eating blueberries, and Gaia sitting on the grass exploring.

This time, Keaton sat next to Gaia for photos — a rarity. He even fed her a blueberry (or at least tried to, because even if she looked at him with such endearment in her eyes, she still tightly closed her mouth). Their relationship has gotten better, I must say. While she’s always loved her big brother since the beginning — she’s always looked at him with such admiration — he’s always been closed off from her. I’m happy to say that he’s been coming around recently.

Keaton exploring gigantic dinosaurs at “The Lost Kingdoms”

Gaia playing in the sand at 7 months old

Nothing is easy. It feels like challenges keep multiplying in a myriad of ways. There’s no break or breath to be caught. We’re struggling and deeply exhausted. But what saves us — or at least me — are the little moments in life with our kids: going to local parks, exploring a new dinosaur exhibit in town, going to farms to pick berries or do kids’ activities, driving Keaton to see his best friend, going to waterparks, spending time with family, and watching Gaia eating well and sharpening all facets of her development, amongst others. I live for these.

I’ve already written what feels like a book on Keaton here. But Gaia, allow me to inform you, is the best. She really is. She’s easygoing, sweet and sassy, social and curious, and she gives the best kisses and cuddles in the world. Her kisses are the equivalent of her eating our faces. I still can’t believe she’s already seven months old, already eating solids and eating so well. She’s itching to crawl and stand, too. Where has time gone? She’s so full of life and personality.

Keaton and Gaia are two yin and yangs in my life. They’re opposites in many ways. Now that I have two children — two vastly different ones — I can say with knowing that just as I’d suspected in the early days, Keaton is indeed different, whereas Gaia is like most easygoing babies. I’m in awe that I have a baby that actually sits and plays with her toys. (Keaton had never been able to do that since he was born.) While my boy has been my difficult one, I have the utmost respect for him because he’s my teacher. Gaia, on the other hand, is my healer.

I find myself wanting to hold on to her for dear life. She’s my youngest baby, a little girl, who feels, to me, to be the most vulnerable. And she holds the power of healing for my family and I, for she carries the name of my eldest sister, who’d passed away at the age of three during the Khmer Genocide. I had no idea how grave the trauma in me had been, until I became pregnant with Gaia. I found myself wanting to physically run away throughout my pregnancy to escape the pain. To shut my ears from the visceral noise in my head. To scream loud enough to set the world on fire. To turn myself off.

But when Gaia came into the world, all was oddly silenced. I’d stopped crying on my sister’s birthday and the anniversary of her death. There was immense closure in knowing that I now had a baby girl, whom I could protect in a way that my sister couldn’t have been protected. I know my sister lives in Gaia and is part of us all. There’s healing in that.

Big boy haircut and a rawr-some 3!

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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.

Stalking turkeys

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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.

No gold, sprinkles only

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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.

Calling the crowd

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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.

Choo choo

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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.

“Tank-oon”

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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 little 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.

Otter takes a pose

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Keaton has been interested in fishies and water lately, as a result of watching Speedie Didi’s videos on YouTube. So, we took him to The Aquatarium at Tall Ships Landing in Brockville, Ontario — an hour’s drive from Ottawa — which was a science and education museum that showcased wildlife from the St. Lawrence River and their rich history.

The museum itself was a modest size, but the interactive learning opportunities were plentiful. My favourite part was the otter feeding. The little fella was doing all sorts of acrobatics and had such a personality; the sight was so darn cute. I felt like an excited kid, and probably appeared as one, too. We even got to take a photo with the otter; it posed for us! (Auntie Mel Mel was definitely missing out.)

The Power of Water experience was particularly a hit for our toddler. He loved figuring out how to generate electricity with water at the hydroelectric generation table, as well as maneuvering locks and dams and adjusting the water current. There were tricks he figured out as soon as he arrived at the table, without even our help! The set-up was such an educational and fun way for kids to learn the importance of the water of the St. Lawrence River, and how it shapes our daily existence.

Because the museum was a modest size with few visitors, it was a very local and personalized experience for us. We had the pleasure of interacting with staff along the way, who’d personally invited us to try different activities, some of which were learning about the turtle, getting a close up of Alice, the snake, and petting some underwater sea stars, sea urchins, and hermit crabs, amongst other things.

Following our museum visit, we stopped at Don’s fish & Chips, a local fish and chips takeout eatery, which was just a five-minute walk from the Aquatarium. We ended up eating our takeout in the car, which was parked in an indoor parking, as it was a chilly day. Whilst we ate in the dark, with only our interior car light for company, it was still an authentic experience — it was life and its discomforts at their silliest. Keaton, in fact, enjoyed eating his fish and chips while watching cartoons. After all, it was all dark and cozy.

We also took the opportunity to explore downtown Brockville a bit. We found a bookstore that my husband loved and where he could’ve spent the whole day finding gems. However, we had to cut our walk short because it was getting cold, and at that point in the late afternoon, I could no longer muster walking with my pregnant belly. So, we ventured back home.

In retrospect, it was such an enjoyable outing for us. If it was fun for Keaton, us parents had a blast, too — sometimes even more so! I love that my husband and I are spontaneous individuals, and are always open to new adventures, wherever they may be.

Past meets present

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Mackenzie King Estate

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.