parenthood

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.

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.

Thanksgiving and Halloween-esque weekend fun

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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!

Pumpkin patch dreams & nature’s healing

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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.

The cow train and the old lady

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This weekend, we visited another farm/orchard: Cannamore Orchard, which was about a 40-minute drive from Ottawa’s centre core. It was a spontaneous trip with our family and Kong-Ma, and we all had a good, but tiring, time. I think my mom has taken a liking to farm visits lately. She’s been smiling so much and laughing heartily, too.

The orchard’s opening time was at 10AM, and as we were driving into the parking lot, we were surprised to see just how busy it was already. We were a bit saddened that all the wagons and carts had been taken; we were hoping to grab one to head out to the pumpkin patch. Yet the busy morning made all the sense in the world. After all, it was a sunny Saturday morning, probably the only sunny day in the week before a weeklong prediction of heavy rain. And, it’s the season for farms and pumpkin patches.

After we bought our tickets, we headed out to explore. The orchard was wonderfully vast and expansive. We walked by the apple orchard, which was already nearing its last moments of the season, for apples were scarce or have already fallen on the ground. Nevertheless, it was a lovely sight that reminded us of our own apple-picking experience from just a few weeks ago. (We were lucky to have gone apple-picking at the very start of the season, when apples were plentiful on trees.) We then ventured on and enjoyed a quiet and secluded walk into the deep woods and open fields.

But soon after, a question arose, “Where are we and where are the Family Fun Day activities?” Lost, we decided to walk back, and that’s when we stumbled upon the tractor wagon driver, who was already starting his early wagon ride of the day, with only one family seated. We waved to inquire if we could hop on, and he happily stopped to collect us. The tractor wagon ride was a calming experience. Since we were one of the only ones riding, it felt private and secluded. I loved feeling the crisp autumn wind on my face and hair most of all. Keaton and Mama also enjoyed their apples during the ride. It was a cute sight to watch Keaton sitting on daddy’s lap and biting his big, luscious apple (which he later dropped).

The driver dropped us off next to the lobby, where all the Family Fun Day activities were, and that’s when we experienced an a-ha moment, because it’s exactly what we were looking for at the start. (We walked in the opposite direction and ended up elsewhere on the farm.) There were many activities for kids to enjoy: a playground with toys, pedal cars, a cow train, mazes, and even chickens and horses. Keaton had a blast at the playground, which, funnily enough, was where all the families were gathered. Parents and caregivers all shared a common thematic desire: fun for the kids and a moment of survival and peace. When I looked around and saw the chaos of everyday parent life, I can say that my sense of belonging grew incrementally.

I think the funnest experience for all of us was the cow train. Luckily, we hopped on at an earlier time, so we were able to beat the long lineups. It was adorable that all the cows had names. I didn’t know that they were all different sizes, so I coincidentally chose a small one that left me no leg room, and boy, did I hope throughout the long ride that I wouldn’t go into labour with all the bumps! While Keaton sat on daddy’s lap in their cow train compartment, Kong-Ma had their individual compartments. For two elderly people, they sure had an anxious but good time! The comical moment of the experience was when the cow train driver almost left with my mom stuck in the train; she was the last to get off and he hadn’t noticed. We all had to yell for him to stop. In retrospect, we all laughed, especially my mom.

After much time back at the playground, we decided it was time to go. We missed the pumpkin patch, unfortunately, because afternoon had already crept up and none of us had eaten, Keaton hadn’t napped, and we were all fatigued. What we did instead was have Keaton choose a pumpkin from the display of pre-picked pumpkins in front of the lobby — he chose a perfect one — and got him a lollipop that he’d been asking for since seeing a little boy holding and eating one at the playground.

Life as we know it always has its clumsy moments, for when we returned to the car, again, we had to grapple with invading wasps. It was a funny sight for Keaton. He just watched his daddy flailing left and right like a crazy person, and I’m sure that at that moment, he thought his daddy was indeed crazy. What else is new in our family? We’ve all gone haywire.

RAWR, it’s baby tiger!

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We experienced an insanely cute and proud moment this past weekend: Keaton had his first face painting experience ever, and he was the most adorable baby tiger!

(The kids’ face painting program and festivities were in homage of the Italian Festival that was happening last weekend.)

Excited for Keaton’s first face painting and bouncy castle experience — when I showed him photos of what face painting was, he, too, was looking forward to it — we arrived on site at the event early on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, the wind was so strong that the bouncy castles and rides were postponed. Instead, Keaton spent an adventurous morning exerting his energy at the nearby playground and playing alongside other kids, whose parents also waited patiently for the weather to be more forgiving. Alas, the wind persisted, so we informed our little man that nap time was nearing and we’d have to go home, but that after his nap we’d try the festivities again.

By the time Keaton had woken up from his nap, it was already late in the afternoon. But he woke up with the motivation and eagerness to continue on with his day, and excitedly helped us get him ready to go have his face painted and explore. It was a sweet and heavenly moment for us dishevelled and raccoon-eyed parents, as it’s customary for our little guy to scream our building down when it’s time to get ready.

As the weather gods had it, when we arrived on scene, the bouncy castles were still sleeping sheepishly flat on the grass — the wind hadn’t subsided. Nevertheless, face painting was our goal. The lineup wasn’t too long, but lo and behold, I had waited for almost two hours. I even laughed with the mom behind me and joked that we could’ve napped during the whole wait time. Luckily, the organizers and volunteers had bocce ball and colouring books to keep the kids busy, which Keaton and his daddy had spent much of the time enjoying.

Keaton loved bocce ball, or rather, his own version of it. He had the idea of rolling the balls one by one along the wooden panels. When the awesome volunteer saw his plans, she immediately jumped in to help him achieve his vision and helped him line the wooden planels and pop them at an angle so that he could roll the balls down. I could see she was amused as she watched him concocting his master engineering plans.

Our little guy has always been very curious, inventive, and idea-oriented, and loves to problem-solve. Thus, seeing him orchestrate a whole setup with the help of a perceptive and eager adult, was very heartwarming. Other kids also came to play alongside him. They, too, were fascinated; and I had the pleasure of helping out and showing them how to set everything up.

We were surprised that Keaton hadn’t grown too fussy after waiting for almost two hours to get his face painted. (Thankfully, he’d found and created his own entertainment!) When it was finally his turn, my husband and I expected him to sit for a few seconds and perhaps fuss or cry or run off after the first few paint strokes. After all, he’s a highly energetic little man that never sits still. But to our surprise and amazement, he sat still the whole way through! He was good at listening to instructions, too, such as when our lovely artist asked him to move forward on the chair or lift his chin. We could tell he was a bit shy, but very determined to see it through at the same time. Perhaps the feeling of the brushes was relaxing for him, like an ASMR effect. Who knew!

One thing’s for sure: my husband and I were flabbergasted. He was the youngest face painting client of all, and was so patient. We were deeply proud. We also felt a sense of love and community when other parents and kids gathered close to watch him get his face painted. He was just so good and cute! He was the first baby tiger, and everyone’s hearts melted. Especially ours.

Events in our lives have been challenging, and everything is far from OK, but these raw and sweet moments in life are what sustain us and give us joy and hope. I’m very grateful for our talented face painter, who had a magical effect on children. Keaton felt safe in her presence. As for us parents, she brought immense joy and endless smiles to our lives from this one beautiful exchange. We loved when she showed him his face in the mirror. We could tell how proud she was of her work, and how happy she was for him to see his tiger-esque self.

At first, Keaton was a bit reserved and uncertain to see himself in the mirror. But soonafter, he adopted his new identity with pride. When it came time for a bath, he was also very accepting that it was time to let go of his face paint. He thus looked in the mirror and waved, and said, “Bye bye, Roar!” Then, he proceeded to wash off the paint himself in the bath, like a big kid. I think our hearts swelled with warmth and pride all weekend.

Cheers to our little tiger, whom we trust, and will guide, to roar through life and all adversity to become the best version of himself. We love you, Keaton.

2 and double the birthdays

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Keaton turned 2 recently! Though, I think he must think it’s his birthday every day, since for days past, we’ve been showering him with incessant birthday love — and happily so!

I’m so glad to say that after two years of pandemic stagnancy, we finally gathered with my brother and his family. Keaton has finally met his uncle, auntie, and two cousins. They, in turn, have finally been able to physically visit us and hug and hold our little man — all unmasked. I’ve been missing my brother and his family for so long, especially my nieces. It hurts to think that the last time the girls saw Keaton was the night that he’d arrived home from the hospital. Now, seeing how much they’ve grown makes me so proud of them. They’ve grown so beautifully, intelligently, and kindly.

When my parents (Kong-Ma) and Auntie Mel Mel, Keaton’s BFFs, arrived at our place, he was ecstatic. But when he saw my brother and his family, of course he cried. He didn’t know them. It was at once a funny, cute, and sad sight to see him crying when we all sang “Happy Birthday” to him. To him, there were strange faces cheering him on. We felt for him and all his fears and uncertainty. We felt for everyone at that moment, too. Two years is a lot of lost time. But it didn’t take long. Shortly after warming up, Keaton was already playing with his uncle on the floor with his gifted toolbox and trucks. He also developed a deep liking to his older cousin, who he proceeded to playing with all night.

Keaton loves trucks. He’s loved them his whole existence — he even knows the names of different types of vehicles and trucks — so for his second birthday, we decided on a truck/vehicle theme. My husband and I decorated the apartment with banners and balloons the night prior to the celebration, when Keaton was deep asleep. It brought back nostalgic memories of us decorating for his first birthday in our old apartment in Verdun, which I miss immensely. And now, our little dude’s already two.

I love the custom cake topper most of all. I had it customized and handmade by a talented Etsy seller, who breathes life and love into her creations. She brought my vision and all the details to life, and it turned out perfect. I’m so thankful for her effort and work. It’s become the centrepiece of Keaton’s birthday.

The cake was a lovely lemon raspberry flavour. It was light and fluffy, with a hint of citrus lemon and raspberry tartness that were beautifully enrobed with sweet buttercream. Heaven galore!

Keaton’s second cake, on his actual birthday. A fun funfetti vibe!

After we celebrated Keaton’s birthday with my family over the weekend — it was the ideal time for everyone to drive down, as the adults and kids were on break — of course we also celebrated his birthday on his actual birthday. This time, it was just our little family plus my parents, his Kong-Ma.

Keaton’s a lucky little guy. He got two birthday celebrations, two cakes, twice the gifts, and double the love and blessings! But it was just right and perfect. He’s so wonderful; he deserves all the love and more.

I’ve been anxious for a long time leading up to Keaton’s birthday. There had already been cancellations in the past due to the pandemic and restrictions, and each time, my heart broke. I crossed my fingers and toes that everything would be OK for our little guy’s birthday this time.

After two years, I’m so, so grateful that after all this time and uncertainty, it was a success story for everyone to finally meet. For my parents who are getting older by the day, I could understand and empathize with how joyous they must’ve felt to see all their kids and grandkids together, gathered under one roof for a full celebration of love. My family, my parents, my sister, my brother and his family — all of us together — I couldn’t ask for a more happy time in my life.

***

Happy Birthday to my sweet baby boy, who’s a source of happiness and refuge for so many of us. I love your sensitivity and compassion; I love that you’re a resilient problem-solver; I love that you possess a moral and ethical compass, and that you do right by others; and I love that now, we can reason and communicate with you. Your love for trucks and “meh meh” is the cutest thing of all. We’ll try to keep your long curly hair strand for as long as possible, OK? Don’t let daddy convince you otherwise. – Mommy

Meuh-Meuh-Meuh to the New Year

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Our Christmas was a Christmas of three: daddy, mommy, and Keaton. It was another Christmas in isolation; after all, the Omicron variant had shockingly started ripping across the country, and at a very fast rate. So to be safe this year, our families and us decided to celebrate in our own respective bubbles. It was a sad time for everyone. One or even two Christmases in isolation isn’t so bad for us youngsters, but for my parents and all the elderly, lost time in isolation is lost time. The future is uncertain.

Last year, we had a low key Christmas, but it was also very heartwarming because my sister (Auntie Mel Mel) joined us. Keaton had his BFF there, so it was an exciting moment for him. I fondly remember him opening his Fisher Price car gift — his very first car. He crawled towards the neatly wrapped box — a large one at that — and with a smile, knew that it was his gift and began tugging at the paper. We missed our parents of course, but we were still hopeful that next year would be normal again — that we’d all be able to reunite for the holidays. Yet who would’ve thought that this pandemic would last for almost two years?

This year, as we’ve reached a level of acceptance and normalcy in our lives — there’s no way but to co-exist with COVID-19 — we decided to reunite with my whole family. After all, we’ve all been careful and vigilant throughout this whole ordeal, and all adults and kids are vaccinated — except for Keaton, who doesn’t go to daycare anyway. As a pandemic baby, Keaton hasn’t socialized or travelled much at all, so I was really looking forward for him to finally meet his cousins after almost two years, and their new doggie addition, Snow. I miss my nieces tremendously. But plans fell through because at this point, the Omicron variant had began transmitting at a very rapid rate, and everywhere. On top of that, we all succumbed to a raging cold. Even if it wasn’t COVID-19, we all felt it was safer to remain home and not spread more viruses around than necessary.

I think the most heartbreaking moment was Christmas Eve. My sister had driven over two hours to drop off gifts for her nephew. Seeing her show up at our door, only to leave with a visibly tearful “Merry Christmas” — no hugs or kisses — was shattering to me. I felt myself tearful when I saw all the beautifully wrapped gifts for Keaton, the Blues Clues chair, and even the Christmas clothes she’d washed for him to wear on Christmas Day. There was heartbreak in knowing that as Keaton was napping, his auntie, his favourite person in the whole world, showed up — but she couldn’t see or kiss him, nor would he know that she was there.

“I think it’s best that Keaton doesn’t see me,” my sister said. “He might feel sad that I leave right away.”

When Keaton woke up and saw all the gifts under the tree — Santa did arrive this year, or rather Auntie Mel Mel — he grew fascinated. I let him open one gift that night, and he was very good and patient when I told him that he’d have to wait to open it on daddy’s break. When he finally opened his gift and saw the handyman toolbox kit that we’d bought him, he got really excited. It was perfect for him because he’s always been enamoured with tools and “fixing” the wheels on his trucks. It was a beautiful sight to see my husband showing him how to use the tools, and him following his daddy’s instructions.

On Christmas morning, when it was time to open gifts, we video-called my parents and also took videos for my sister to watch later. Keaton had numerous gifts — all so very fun and meaningful at the same time. He was so stimulated, that he even refused to nap that day. I loved watching him opening his gifts and seeing the excitement on his face. Yet I can’t soften the truth: I still felt a deep-rooted sadness within me that wouldn’t go away. There was the sadness in knowing that my sister and parents were respectively alone, and that the moment could’ve been so much sweeter if everyone had been present. Keaton could’ve actually given his grandparents and auntie kisses for all the gifts. I, in turn, could’ve witnessed their smiles at that very moment.

Sure, Keaton was amused with all the gifts and toys. But I could see in my son that he was also sad. I’m aware he knew that Auntie Mel Mel had dropped by. Yes, I mentioned it to him; but more importantly, he felt her presence. He’s always been an intelligent and sensitive young fellow, who’s in touch with his emotions and surroundings. It’s no surprise, then, that he felt a deeper sadness than meets the superficial eye. I, myself, couldn’t bear to see the Christmas tree after Christmas was over. Even though I grew up keeping the tree up way beyond New Year’s — I’ve always loved seeing it longer than necessary — these past two Christmases I couldn’t. I felt too depressed to see it knowing that it was a sad Christmas. I told him Keaton to say “thank you” and “bye bye” to the tree — he waved with gratitude — and proceeded to taking everything down.

***

New Year’s Eve was better already. We all healed from our colds — my parents included — so we had my parents over. It was a very simple and low key evening. I was in my pyjamas and bath robe all night. Perhaps in an alternate reality, I would’ve put effort into looking cute for the night, but in all frankness, I couldn’t mask the turmoil that boiled within me, and a bathrobe and pyjamas paid honest tribute to that — and I liked that a lot. We also didn’t have champagne on hand, so we just ordered a bottle of white wine instead from UberEats. After my parents left at around 10PM, I knocked out shortly after. I felt like an old granny. Even old grannies do better than me, let’s be real.

Keaton also slipped and fell — so hard, that his teeth cut his upper lip what looks to be almost in two. Blood was gushing, but to his and our relief, after holding a cold and wet cloth to his lip and rotating cloths religiously, the blood stopped. My poor little guy’s upper lip was very swollen. Overall, though, he’s been doing OK and hasn’t been bothered by his little bobo. He’s also been breastfeeding well and eating well. I was afraid it would be a nightmarish scenario where he wouldn’t be able to eat anything.

Keaton loves the playground at the farm. I do, too! There’s even a mini train and barn that kids can enter and enjoy.
It was a comical and endearing sight to see the farm workers walk these donkeys to their enclosure here; it took quite a while for them to make it! One of the donkeys was very playful and almost cinematic to observe.
I love that all the cows had names. In the other barn, we also saw the names of the calves’ parents. There was a calf that was born on Christmas Day, and he was the most handsome little dude ever!
We stood here watching the tractor transport the hay on the wagon. I think it was one of Keaton’s favourite moments, if not the favourite moment.

New Year’s Day was much better already. I was at a better place mentally and emotionally. Maybe it’s because Christmas was over. We took Keaton to the farm, and luckily, the weather was very mild for a winter day, so we were able to spend a few hours outside enjoying the animals and the playground. Our little guy had a good time. It was magical for him to go from watching farm tractor videos in the morning, to actually showing up at a farm and seeing tractors in live action. It’s his second time visiting the farm, and I appreciate that it’s within walking distance of our abode. One thing I appreciate about this city is, even though it’s a car kind of city, there’s still a lot of nature and parks that abound.

It’s difficult having a toddler, or kids in general, during a pandemic. Social experiences, activities, and adventures have become more limited. Apartment living and being without a car has also presented us with additional challenges. Yet for my husband and I, we try our best to give our son as many experiences as we can possibly muster. No matter the circumstances — rain or heavy snow — we’d walk our son in the stroller to our destination, even if it was an hour’s walk away. We’ve taken him to Christmas markets, museums, malls — many places on foot. There was no other way. Public transportation is unreliable and risky with COVID-19, so walking was the answer. Yet I have no complaints. I’ve spent most of my life walking for hours on end, even until my ankles bled, so naturally, I have a lovely appreciation for it.

As a parent to a toddler during this crazy period, making decisions is always difficult. While we make decisions based on our values and priorities, which, in essence, is our son’s health and well-being, we’ll still never know if these were the right or wrong decisions. We know that Keaton longs for connection with other children — it pains us to no end — and even if he’ll most likely be OK if he caught COVID-19, we’re still unaware of the long-term repercussions of the virus on his health. Is it worth the risk? Not for us. Every parent has their own risk threshold that they’re willing to adhere to — us included. I don’t think many of us know what the fuck we’re doing throughout all of this mess. There’s got to be some kind of cost-benefit analysis, and something’s always got to give. But we’re all trying our best to do the right thing for our families. My only regret in my life right now, is that I wish I were able to be a happier, healthier mother for my son. I’m beaten down.

Salt & pepper shake

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Keaton’s fun and imaginary play these days is centred on his new kitchen. I’m very glad that we decided to invest in this kitchen, because it gives him something to do these long, cold winter days, that doesn’t have to do with him watching “meh meh” or TV shows. It’s also very rewarding to see him exercising his imagination and engaging in pretend play. While his nose is a running faucet these days — momma here is sick with an unforgiving cold, too — he’s content with his kitchen.

The cutest moment is when the three of us are playing together and he serves up food for us. He loves adding salt and pepper to his dishes; he’ll even make the “chhh chhh” sound when he shakes them. The microwave is his favourite, though, and he’ll ask me to put oven mitts on him (actually his winter mitts). He’ll also make the “beep beep beep” sound. I’ve noticed that he finds it more enticing when daddy makes kitchen sounds and serves up food; he’ll try to emulate it. It makes all the sense in the world because he’s always observing what his daddy does in day-to-day life!

Building blocks!

Our little guy is highly energetic and easily distracted — I know most toddlers are — but Keaton has always been extraordinary in his extremes. He’s very aware, loving, gentle, perceptive, and kind; but he’s also very demanding and strong-willed. He’s always been a difficult baby — very high needs and hyperactive. I find myself defeated and beaten down most days, and not knowing how to entertain him. While I take him to the park, sometimes twice a day, even in the coldest of winters — we’re always the only crazy ones there — it’s always been challenging to entertain him at home. He’s never been interested in his toys or painting or crafts, or in the activities that I actively set up for him (I appreciate all the online tools that parents have put out there).

One day, as he was napping, I searched online for some DIY toddler activities and stumbled upon poking spaghetti or pipe cleaners in a colander and “pom pom whisk,” two of which are great fine motor skill activities for a toddler. But instead of pulling out the pom poms one by one or threading the spaghetti or pipe cleaners into the colander individually, he took the smart and easy way out: he continuously banged the whisk against the floor and table, which prompted all the pom poms to fly out faster and more efficiently, and he turned the colander right side up and just deposited the whole batch of spaghetti in it, rather than threading them into the holes. I was at a loss for words and just laughed. Clearly, my child wasn’t one to waste time; he had smarts and a will of his own nature.

But another day, I had this crazy idea to buy him blocks — shoutout to Dollarama for a well-spent $4 — and lo and behold, it’s become one of his new favourite activities. My husband has been raving about what a great idea it was. That’s when I know I’m beat tired: little obvious details surpassed me completely. How could I have not thought of blocks before? It’s a fantastic toy for him, of course, because he always loves stacking and organizing objects; and now, seeing him so concentrated makes my heart elated. He’s thinking, he’s analyzing, he’s focusing, he’s learning. Win! It warms my heart to see him sit and build blocks; he looks like a little boy.

Today, I tried teaching him the alphabet and lined the letters with their respective cards. Instead of being interested in the colourful line of alphabet letters that I set up for him, his imagination instructed him otherwise: it was to be used as a trail for his vehicles! Momma here laughed out loud. Again, my son is a contrarian and always has his own agenda. Frankly, I respect that. I love his independent and stubborn streak. He’s a visionary, and I admire that about him very much.

Our Christmas tree is very dynamic, if I may say, because it’s constantly changing appearances and identities. That’s what happens when a toddler is constantly removing ornaments and stealing candy canes!

I’m sad to say that Christmas is only a few days away, and there are so many activities that I hadn’t had the time and opportunity to experience. In fact, days scurried on by so fast that it’s hard to believe that while it’s my favourite time of the year, it hardly feels like it. This year is the saddest holiday season thus far for me, and I’m sure many people out there share this sentiment. For me, it’s the financial strain; it’s the lack of time and resources, and the constant exhaustion; it’s missing family and social connections; it’s the stress of not being able to feel free and in control in my own living environment. Oh, and hey Omicron, you raging, sexy beast. I’m giving you a shoutout, too!

Yet my husband and I take full responsibility for where we are now in our lives, and the current circumstances that encase us. There are certain moments when we feel like we’ve failed our son — when we wish we could’ve done better. It’s an uncomfortable experience, and we don’t shy away from the realities of our shortcomings. But what I’m proud of — and I say this loud and clear — is that in the midst of all the tidal waves, we’ve still created a home and safe space for our son. We make do with what we have, and in the best ways possible. Our Christmas tree is a symbolic representation of our lives: there’s beauty, there’s hope, and there’s love and joy.

When I quickly assess our apartment, of course I’m reminded of the constant discomfort and anxiety. There’s the structural inadequacies of the unit and the building at large, the neighbours downstairs whose noise levels prohibit us from even hearing our own thoughts, and the inconsiderate maskless folks who believe that the Sun revolves around their sorry asses. Yet, my heart is full and grateful. We have what we need and we’re cozy. My husband’s proud that I’ve transformed our abode into a warm, fun, and inviting place. I love Keaton’s play space most of all. Seeing his Nana’s paintings on the wall, his house and the stickers that adorn it, and his kitchen and food truck — they all make me feel happy and blessed. And I know that Keaton feels this way, too.

Rawr! Here’s to 18 months of tigredom

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“Go get em tiger” pays tribute to Keaton’s orange and vibrant tiger summer hat. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of him.

It was with a heavy, yet loving and trusting heart that I painted this rock for Keaton the other night. It was the day when he’d experienced his first heartbreak at the park — my first heartbreak as a parent, too. When he went to explore his usual playhouses — they’re his favourite, as there are sit-in kitchens and doors that he loves to open and close — another little boy, perhaps two to three years old, claimed his territory and angrily told Keaton to “get out,” and even gestured repeatedly for him to leave. Keaton stood there, looking confused and sad. I could tell that he knew in his sentimental heart that it was a different encounter. It was his first experience with an unkind situation, and seeing the sadness in his eyes and him not knowing what to do, broke my heart to pieces.

I felt paralyzed at that moment, too, as a parent who’s new to a situation like this. Thus, I led Keaton by the hand elsewhere. But my heart wasn’t, and couldn’t, be still. I couldn’t allow a kid who was still learning about social interactions himself, to get away with his unkind act, especially when his parents only paid lip service and took no concrete action to ensure that their son was mindful of other children. (I see many of those at the park.) So I took Keaton back to the playhouse to stand our ground, and rightfully so. The little boy was enraged that my son was back; but this time, I told him calmly yet firmly that the playhouse was public, and that my son could be there too. It was only then that the little boy felt himself unable to intimidate and began telling me about his imaginary coffee machine, which I played along with to normalize and de-escalate the situation. I didn’t like the kid, and I sure as hell didn’t like the parents.

As a parent now, I’ve learned that the park isn’t all that much of a fun and innocent place; it’s also imbued with its own dark moments. And jeebus, can it be a dog-eat-dog world there. I’m taken aback by how brutal it can be, especially for young ones who are just starting to explore the world and social dynamics. Right now, Keaton is still so young, so it’s important for me to support him at all costs, especially at a time in his infancy when he doesn’t have the tools and skills to support himself yet. It’s equally important that he knows that his mommy and daddy will always be by his side, and that he mustn’t ever back down in life because of others’ intimidation. While the situation broke my heart — frankly, I wanted to cry that night because Keaton’s eyes told me everything I needed to know — I was also glad it happened. Life’s not all roses and will always be full of paradoxes. Thus, it’s important for Keaton to learn as much in order to develop his character as he grows older, because there will come a time when we won’t be there for him any longer and he’ll have no choice but to fend for himself. And I trust that in due time, he’ll have the tools and wisdom to do right by himself and his loved ones.

This is why I painted him this rock. He’s a little tiger. He’s our little tiger. It’s in his nature and blood. He’s strong, brave, perceptive, and instinctive. And insanely quick at prancing at his target (why we’re exhausted to pieces). This rock is dedicated to him. It’s a reminder to him that he’s a tiger, and that he has the innate skills and strength to channel his experiences wisely and compassionately, and with conviction and courage, if he so chooses. To experience fear and uncertainty, yet to charge forward boldly in the midst of it, with the utmost bravery and spirit… this is the philosophy of a warrior of life.

Keaton enjoying his playhouse the morning after it was built.

It’s kind of funny how life plays out. Perhaps it’s synchronicity, but his daddy happened to order him his own playhouse; and it arrived just a day or two shy of the unpleasant encounter. It’s as if the universe was on Keaton’s side and nudged to him that all was fine — that he’d have his own little playhouse, in his own safe haven where he knows that he’s loved and cared for. Having this playhouse in our abode is also healing for us; we know the universe has balanced itself. It’s universal and karmic law. And Keaton is so happy in it, too. It was so sweet to watch his reaction when his daddy started assembling the pieces. He was also trying to help his daddy build it. And best of all, Kong-Ma were there to witness it all. The joy and love.

What’s new in our household besides my usual contemplation on ‘parks and parents’, as my husband would sarcastically put it? Rocks, of course. When life is tough and the future is unpromising and unpredictable, and hope is bleak and forlorn, sometimes, it’s the little things that sustain an individual. For me, my happy place is currently painting rocks, a simple activity that’s amazingly meditative and that brings me so much peace and happiness.

I painted this one recently. I love the starry night sky and I long to witness it atop a mountain, surrounded by the shadows of sleeping trees. I’ve always wanted to witness the Aurora Borealis, too. So this painting is a reminder to myself of where my dream lives. The three figures in the middle symbolize my husband, myself, and our son; we’re all holding hands and looking at the sky. I look forward to experiencing this sightly moment with my family.
My husband painted this one. This is the front side.
Here’s the back side! When he found this rock with a crack, he knew exactly what he wanted to paint. I also knew. It turned out so cartoonish and artistic, haha! I love how he’s an explosion of ideas and creativity. I can’t for the life of me come up with creative ideas; it takes me a whole astronomical light year.

Besides painting rocks, I’ve been finding pleasure in decorating our abode with autumn and Halloween decor. (It’s September, guys. No judgement, please. I have every right here.) I’m also enjoying wearing cardigans, pant leggings, and my Converse shoes. There’s something comforting about sweater weather: I feel safe in my clothes, like I can hide in them as if they were a big blanket. Unlike summer, I feel every justified reason to be cozy and comfortable, and I’ve always loved that; and as a mom now, I love that more than ever. I’m looking forward to transitioning from my colourful feminine summer dresses to wearing my all-black attires. “I like them dark like my soul,” I tell my husband. Whereas summer garnishes smiles and laughter — even then I’ve always felt a large discrepancy between the clear sunny skies and my own internal landscape — autumn nudges me towards my introversion and to retreat and look within myself. Autumn feels honest, raw, and wholesome. The leaves never hide their true colours, nor does one’s soul.

Keaton now calls the cat “mew mew” to repeat after me. But he only says words once, so we always have to listen carefully. He likes to keep us on our toes.
My kitchen table can’t stay organized for more than a deep breath… here’s to the only time it’ll look this cute.
Our basket of painted rocks. The other ones are already washed and awaiting painting!

Also, a very happy 18 months today to our dear Keaton-ai! 18 months of pure growth and learning and exhaustion. And a boy so energetic, meticulous, perceptive, sensitive, and atypical… we consider ourselves blessed. There’s no other version of him we’d choose to have. We love you, our sweet love.