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.
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.
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.
Yesterday’s visit to Proulx Farm, which was only a few steps from Orleans and a 30-minute drive east of downtown Ottawa.
Every year, the farm is transformed into an autumn- and Halloween-themed playground. It really is an enjoyable experience for families, couples, or individuals — everyone, really! There’s just so much to see and explore.
We appreciated how vast and open, yet how well-organized, the farm and its activity set-up was. The tractor wagon ride was our favourite activity. It was actually a long ride around the farm — not just a quick tour — that encouraged us to observe all the Halloween decorations and animated hay bales along the way. The hay bales were so impressive in their creativity. I loved the ox and the cow. We were also introduced to a haunted Halloween house, which, although Keaton was hesitant to enter at first, by the end of it, enjoyed so much, he exclaimed, “Oh, nice!”
We also loved that the tractor driver was able to drop us off at our desired activity. We got off at the pumpkin patch along with another family. They’d left right away, perhaps because the hike to the field was patchy and full of tall grass and dirt. So, we were on our own and enjoyed all the quiet and solitude in the world. There weren’t many pumpkins at the patch, unfortunately, but the experience was still a treat. Keaton chose one he liked. Shortly after, another tractor wagon came to pick us up along the way. (We never saw the other family after this experience, and I do wonder if they’d gone to the maze after the pumpkin patch… and if they indeed got lost and never made it out.)
There was also an abundance of activities for kids to enjoy at the farm: animal petting, mazes, bouncy castles, face painting, treehouses and playgrounds, you name it. Keaton didn’t want to get his face painted this time around. We were bummed because he was so cute when he was a tiger the very first time he got his face painted. (Oh well.) We also liked that there were many picnic tables to have snacks and lunch, and they also sold hot dogs and burgers.
We’d spent a whopping four plus hours at the farm — Keaton fell asleep hard in the car when we left — and prior to leaving, we grabbed some more pumpkins for the home. There were so many varieties of pumpkins of different shapes, colours, and sizes. Of course, it was bright and sunny and the leaves were still green, but if it’d been a cloudy, crispy sweater weather kind of day, with orange and red tones in the trees, it would’ve made for the perfect autumn scene.
It really is becoming our ritual to visit a farm every weekend. This morning, we visited another one: Millers’ Farm & Market. It’s now September, so I have all the excuse in the world to dream of autumn and brightly coloured pumpkins and seasonal offerings.
Even if today felt like a beaming hot summer day — and I’ve been hoping dearly for crisp cloudy days to hasten their presence — it didn’t stop me from feeling all the autumn vibes. Just the sight of colourful pumpkins, gourds, and squashes, as well as beautiful fall mums at this farm, was enough to satisfy my soulful autumn craving.
There were so many brightly coloured pumpkins and veggie friends! Keaton had a fun time pulling the wagon around and choosing all the pumpkins to his heart’s desire.
Our wagon is complete! Keaton’s choices for today featured pumpkins, gourds, and different coloured fall mums. It was endearing to watch him voyage around the farm with the wagon, pulling it himself and asking help from daddy when needed, and choosing all the pumpkins and flowers. I’m proud of him for making such beautiful choices, especially the mums. He picked them out and put them in the wagon himself.
There were also rabbits and chickens at the farm. My heart melted watching my little guy be so gentle and loving with the animals. He loved these rabbits. I, myself, have been wanting to adopt a Holland Lop bunny lately (since I was a kid, in fact). It’s just about convincing my husband at this point.
Mums from the farm in our backyard! They now add colour and life to our outdoor abode.
The white pumpkin from the farm, a new addition to our fireplace mantel. Do you spot Jack Skellington from The Nightmare Before Christmas? We’d recently bought this neat Halloween newspaper plaque decor in honour of one of our favourite Halloween films.
Another one of Keaton’s pumpkins. This one is sitting on our TV stand. Besides choosing his pumpkins, he also chose where to place them in the home. I appreciate my little helper and all his initiative.
At this rate, I think that by the end of October we’ll have visited countless farms and adopted so many pumpkins, our home itself will have become a pumpkin patch.
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
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.
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.
“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.
We discover a new park! So many vehicles, so many possibilities
My husband often tells me — sweetly so — that I’m always talking about the park. It’s true, I do melt his ears off about it since I’m always sharing my observations and analyses with him. I can’t help myself; I’m hard-wired to be observant, contemplative, and analytical. A nuisance as it can be in my life at times — queue all over-thinkers in the room — I actually appreciate this aspect about my personality, because as a mom now, it allows me to always be aware of my son, especially as complex words for him are still left unsaid at his age, and emotions and thoughts only felt and experienced.
Keaton is almost 18 months now and he’s only starting to interact and socialize with other children. My husband and I sometimes wonder if the pandemic has somehow affected his social development and his sense of belonging, or lack thereof, in the context of the world around him. I think it’s a fair question that many parents have asked themselves, and will continue to ask themselves, especially as the pandemic progresses to play an unfeeling game of yo-yo. We’re all living in unprecedented, uncertain, and abnormal times when even the thought of our kids being next to each other, can concoct a crippling sense of anxiety and unease. Life’s not normal as we know it, and even our parenting values and styles have had to adapt to fit with the times and circumstances.
It’s hard and it’s heartbreaking. For my husband and I, there’s something unnatural and deeply wounding to ourselves as parents, and especially to our child, that we’ve had to shield him from fellow children and peers and the world at large — and for so long. There’s a heavy amount of guilt and self-blame that we carry on our shoulders on a daily basis for what may come of our child — or had already come of our child — as a result of our decisions and fears. And Keaton isn’t at the toddler age either where we could explain complexities to him as to why he can’t hug or touch other kids or vice versa. All he sees and understands is that he can’t, and that it’s a bad thing because we pulled him away. We could see the confusion and sadness in his eyes, and this burns our soul to no end. We feel ourselves to be monsters.
We’ll never know if we did the right thing or not. Our number one priority since his birth at the start of the pandemic was his safety, thus we kept him home from daycare, and, up until recently, have social distanced him and ourselves from every other human being possible on this planet (save for family members). The decision to withhold our child from other children is so unnatural and inhumane that it’s a crippling experience to behold. But as parents, like every other parent out there, we’re learning as we go. Some parents have been comfortable with their kids interacting outside at the park, and have been laissez-faire since the start of the pandemic. Meanwhile, some parents still aren’t ready for this kind of commitment. We’ve been the latter sort since the beginning of it all, but it’s only presently that we’ve started taking small, manageable steps towards being less cautious. While we’re still vigilant and mindful about keeping our child safe, we’re now OK with Keaton briefly interacting with others outside in the playground. And we’re enjoying this immensely. It feels refreshing. It feels free.
Little did he know, a fellow toddler would later come play with his sand toys, and he sweetly shared. He was actually pretty shy, too, and watched from a distance.
So far, Keaton has had a few adorable and pleasant interactions with other kids — some younger and some older. It makes my heart smile seeing him this way. He’s never been at a daycare or interacted with other kids before, so I felt anxious about how he’d behave and intermingle with them at the park. After all, we could only teach and show him so much; he needed his own life experience. What we witnessed was how gentle, sensitive, and mindful he was with other kids. Today, for example, when he saw a little girl his age, he approached her and waved and smiled so sweetly, and then proceeded to sharing his ball with her. His movement, gesture, and body language — so gentle and kind. Shy, too, but oh so cute. I guess that would’ve been a normal occurrence for the everyday parent who witnesses these things on a daily basis, but for us, it was monumental and profound. It was one of the firsts of him interacting with another child. I felt emotional. We felt so proud of him. We also felt like we did something right in the midst of all this self-doubt. There was a sense of healing and peace that ensued in us.
As time goes by and Keaton begins interacting with other children, I also begin to understand myself better, especially my anxieties regarding parks. For one, as an introvert, the park is literally the bane of my existence. There are so many tiny humans that I must be physically aware of — I call them little COVIDs — that it feels like I’m playing Minesweeper with my feet. (Not that I’m any taller by contrast. I’m a gnome.) Then there’s the inescapable reality of handling social situations that are part and parcel of park dynamics, which is debilitating for my old, tired and introverted soul. This is true when I’m compelled to acknowledge or socialize with tiny humans — and therefore, potentially their larger human counterparts — if my own tiny human approaches them. It’s a challenging phase for me right now as a first-time parent, too, because I’m learning to navigate situations where by my own value and principle, discernment is needed to assess whether I ought to step in and guide my child away from another or not. For example, if I see that Keaton and another little one are expressively open to greeting or even playing with each other, as indicated by a smile or a wave or a physical approach, then I let them be. But if, say, Keaton approaches another child and I see that the child is unresponsive or is perhaps shy or reserved and shows no obvious indication of want of interaction, then I’ll gently guide my son away. Something I’d like to teach Keaton is that while it’s important to always be aware of other people’s emotional landscape and body language — it says a lot more than we think — it’s still not his place to decide or to guess what other people’s intentions are, and that includes whether they wish to befriend him or not. If he’s in a situation where he’s unsure, it’s best policy to not force a connection and to give space for others to exercise their own agency.
It’s strange to say, but even if as an introverted parent I’m thrown into situations that are uncomfortable for me, paradoxically, I do find peace and healing in it, because I understand that I’m learning and evolving in the process. Even more strange of all, and perhaps the sweetest note, is that it’s actually my son who’s the one holding my hand and bridging me with others and guiding me to live life more daringly. It’s through him interacting with other kids that, I, too, feel open to and interested in also interacting with their parents, and therefore with the world at large. Sometimes there’s nothing more to it than simply addressing that my child was interested in their child’s activities, which often garnishes warmth and smiles. Frankly, it feels good. It feels good to feel myself part of something greater than myself — a community. In spite of myself and my introversion, I love most of all when we share smiles and laughter with other parents, and when I see Keaton and another child sweetly exchanging connections, if but for a brief moment in time. I think what this pandemic and the postpartum period has done, is made me forget how to open myself up to the world and to assert myself in society the way I had pre-COVID and pre-motherhood. I’ve lost confidence in myself along the way. Now, I feel like I’m getting back up on my feet again and learning alongside Keaton, and there’s something ever so raw and human about that. This little guy, so small in stature, is already my wise teacher; and I have much to experience.
Splash pads, wading pools, and parks have made up the majority of his life here so far, and I’m grateful for these moments as summer comes to an end.
toumemoir 