trees

Double trouble

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It’s already December, and here I am on the precipice of many vomiting spells from all the coughing. I feel like a walking virus with a neck as veinous as the Hulk’s. We’d skipped a year in the sickness department, and now, here we are, as a family of four, sick like toads. Luckily, the kids’ symptoms were mild, and they were rather unbothered.

Christmas is the holiday that I look forward to most every year; there’s so much to do, experience, and feel. Yet time has flown by so fast; and while we’ve done many Christmas activities already, the feeling of being in the festive spirit just hasn’t caught up. Expectation and reality feel like mismatched socks. It’s many things in a complex dance, and combined, it’s overwhelming.

It seems as if we could never catch a break since March 2020, or since the birth of our firstborn and the pandemic began. From that point on, our lives spiralled for better and for worse — the ripple effects felt deeply and constantly. Issues began and multiplied, and mutated into many variations. And in the midst of it all, there was no opportunity for physical, mental, or emotional respite.

For a brief moment, though, we’d caught a breath of air — we’d bought our first home last year. It was the climatic point of hope and promises. But not for long. Once again, our living environment — what was supposed to be our safe haven — became a hazard. More issues arose, and we found ourselves having to pack up and leave, and be wary of even our footsteps upon returning.

Besides the crippling financial effects these events have had on our lives, and with them, the stresses they’ve had on our relationships, are the deep effects they’ve had on our children, because we, as parents, have been struggling immensely. We’ve been deep in the dungeon of guilt, feeling the weight of the circumstances, while simultaneously feeling like royal failures and like the world’s shittiest parents for failing our kids in ways we never thought we would.

Then there’s Christmas around the corner. The tree and lights and all the decor exude a glowing warmth; the smell of cinnamon and pine fills the air with glee; the yard is covered with a fluffy blanket of snow; holiday songs fill the stores and streets with celebration. We have a roof, food, warmth, our family. Yet all doesn’t feel as it should. The external world is seemingly a snow globe, yet the internal world remains a dark mist. Therein lies the mocking juxtaposition that’s reality for us, and for many people, during what’s supposed to be a festive season.

Much guilt eats away at me. I wish I’d been a healthier, happier mother to my children. I wish I’d been a kinder, more loving wife. I wish I’d been more grounded and lived up to my potential. Yet somehow, when none of the fluff makes sense, through my will to live and love, I find myself yearning to make memories with my family, as shattered as our lives have been. I yearn to sew presence and love out of the ripped fabric of our existence. Especially through the broken parts of myself.

For one, we put up our Christmas tree. My parents, the kids’ Kong-Ma, were here to experience the moment, too. Last year, when we put up the tree, it was only them and Keaton, as Gaia was still in my belly. This year, she’s here, too, hopping around on her bum at full speed and exploring. By the time it’s Christmas, she’ll already be one. She’s so full of awareness and interest. It’s so endearing to see her hopping around, whilst holding and hugging and kissing my dancing penguin. It’s double trouble with two now.

Seeing the Christmas tree and decorations and lights brings immense joy to my heart. I see and feel celebration, family, togetherness, and love. As challenging as events in our lives have been, I do have the utmost trust that it’s going to be the most heartwarming Christmas yet, because now, our family is complete with all four of us. There’s strength in family, because where there’s love, there’s will. And where there’s will, there’s possibility.

Keaton was our biggest helper in putting up the ornaments

Whereas last year Gaia was a newborn at Christmas, this year she’s another carbuncle on the loose

I found this beautiful angel that I dedicated to my sister; it makes me feel like she’s with us

Gnome ornaments I’d painted for Keaton and Gaia!

Kinda cute, yes?

Ferme L’Éco des Champs

The first Christmas-y activity we did was visit Ferme l’Éco des Champs again. They now have pre-cut trees for sale, and I’m enamoured with the Christmas tree that they’d put up inside the market shed. It’s all in the minute details, but simply having that tree really changes the farm into a festive wonderland.

This time, Keaton wanted to feed the goats and alpacas, but to our disappointment, they weren’t hungry. While the baby goats were still curious and social even if they weren’t looking to eat, the alpacas looked at us as if we were the most out of place tourists on this earth for trying to feed them. That’s when we reasoned that we’ll stick to the chickens and piggies next time; they’re always hungry.

Cedar Hill Christmas Tree Farm

Rows of growing trees for someone’s next Christmas tree

A picturesque spot fit for a proposal or love confession (cue the cheesy Hallmark movies)

It was our first time visiting Cedar Hill Christmas Tree Farm — what a magical place! They had wide open fields of beautifully lined trees ready to be cut and adorned in the home, as well as baby trees just poking their heads out of the ground. I was itching to cut one myself, but since we already had one at home, I reasoned that perhaps next year or when the kids are a bit older we can return to cut our first Christmas tree.

Besides cut-your-own trees, they also had pre-cut trees as well as many handmade wreaths. Their store was also neat to wander in. There were ornaments, winter wear, soaps, Christmas decor, food goodies, and many more. Their fire pit was a hot spot to warm up, and they also had some farm animals to admire. There were also picturesque spots fit to film Hallmark movies (cue the cheesy ones).

This year, our visit was Keaton enjoying the dynamic playground and Gaia seeing some bunnies and piggies, and us parents enjoying our hot chocos in the scenic environment. But next year or after that, I hope to return to cut our own Christmas tree for the first time.

Magic of Lights at Wesley Clover Parks

We did another Magic of Lights event at Wesley Clover Parks. While last year Gaia was in my belly when we did the drive-through, this year she was in the car seat. Unfortunately, she slept through the whole driving experience; otherwise, she would’ve appreciated all the lights and colours.

This time, we also stopped at the Holiday Pit Stop. It was nice to actually get out of the car and walk a little to do some activities. There were some photo-ops, a BeaverTail truck, and a mini trail to enjoy the lights. Gaia was awake by then and quite enamoured by the colourful lights over her.

Ottawa Christmas Market at Landsdowne Park

The Right Bite’s gingerbread and shortbread cookies are just… a different species of delicious

We waited for our family photo with Santa (our first one yet)!

The Ottawa Christmas Market at Landsdowne Park is a European-style Christmas market that features many vendors, activities, and entertainment. We went on opening night, and of course, as expected, driving in meant that there would be a long wait time — cars were lined all the way down the road.

But the night was young and there was plenty of fun to be had. Although we missed the tree-lighting ceremony, we did catch a glimpse of the carollers. We also took a stroll in the Aberdeen Pavilion, which was crowded between all the vendors and even more patrons. After Keaton had gotten his Christmas cookie from The Right Bite, we scurried out. In retrospect, I’m sure we caught a virus inside the pavilion.

It was also crowded outdoors, and although I enjoyed all the lights and festivities — the kids enjoyed the atmosphere, too — I was happy to call it a night. The atmosphere was very festive with many happy smiles all around, but because I’m easily overstimulated by crowds, going home not too long after was what I needed. We did manage to take our first family photo with Santa. That was a major success.

Cumberland Heritage Village Museum

It was our first time attending the Vintage Village of Lights at the Cumberland Heritage Village Museum, and so far, it’s my favourite go-to place for a Christmas activity with my family. Whereas the Ottawa Christmas Market at Landsdowne Park was festive but overstimulating due to all the entertainment and the crowd of people, the Vintage Village of Lights here was the opposite: festive but very quiet, peaceful, and leisurely.

The lights at the museum did look and feel like a picturesque postcard. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and an even more beautiful experience to be had. I love that the experience was a mix of outdoors and indoors, where we could stroll around and appreciate the heritage buildings and see demonstrations, as well as enter some of them to do activities like decorate gingerbread cookies (we could eat them, too!) and take photos with Santa.

I look forward to coming back at least once more before the season is over. Not only is it very affordable — it’s $25 for six people — but it’s also very low-key and low-energy, fit for a quiet and calm leisurely stroll devoid of crowds. I love their family activities, and the staff were a delightful bunch.

Christmas Market in Old Aylmer

We visited the Christmas Market in Old Aylmer last year, just two weeks before Gaia was born. I was heavily pregnant at that point and walking like a penguin. This year, she poked her head out of the stroller — eyebrows knitted, and curious and analytical as usual. While there was no train ride this year for Keaton, it was still sweet to remember the memories, and to appreciate time in all its fragments.

Billings Estate National Historic Site

They really do look… homemade. I’m the worst crafter, but I had so much fun

The Billings Estate National Historic Site is a heritage museum here in Ottawa that was built by and used to house the Billings family, one of the earliest settlers. This site is now operated by the City of Ottawa.

We visited the museum for their Home for the Holidays program, where we could explore all the Christmas decor accenting the old, wood-frame home, look at souvenirs and learn about the Billings family and their legacy, and craft our own Christmas ornaments.

When we’re out, it’s rare for Keaton to remain seated and still; he’d often run off and explore (he’s very strong-willed at that). This is why I really appreciated our time together making our own pine cone ornaments. He helped me craft them by choosing the ribbons and adding glue. Because he’s normally not a crafty kid either, having him experience this moment was very joyful for me.

There were cinnamon sticks and star anise, too, that we could add to our pine cones (I added a few to ours). The scent livened the atmosphere in the old home. There’s something deeply calming and cozy about the scent. Now, with our pine cones on our Christmas tree — Keaton put them there — I can’t help but go up to them for a nice sniff.

Stanley’s Olde Maple Lane Farm

We missed Stanley’s Olde Maple Lane Farm’s daytime holiday activities, so we attended their nighttime Holiday Stroll instead. We were all sick and fatigued, and while it made all the practical sense to stay home and rest, I knew we had to do a trip to see the holiday lights — they would lift all our spirits. And lift them they did.

The holiday lights were magical there. The path of lights took about an hour’s stroll. There were traditional displays, and quirky and romantic ones. Santa’s Village was particularly fun to explore. There were mini houses where we could search for different characters and objects for fun.

The latest memory I’m particularly fond of, are these Christmas ornament crafts (I bought them from Dollarama). Keaton has never been an arts-and-crafts kid; he’d have very little patience for and interest in them. But when I enthusiastically told him that I was excited for us to do a Christmas craft together, he agreed to it. I was skeptical that he’d follow through; often times, he’d just tell us to do it for him (this is a problem we have with him).

Yet this experience was different. It was a Christmas miracle, if I may describe it as a such. To my surprise, as soon as he arrived home, he was adamant about starting the craft right away (to my own chagrin because I didn’t even have time to remove my coat and boots). He then proceeded to craft. With my help in reading the instructions, he intently put all the pieces of the characters together, by himself.

Even if his interest began to wane at the third and fourth character, the fact that he carried through with all the characters, and did it all himself, was a huge success. It might’ve been a simple Dollarama craft, yes, but I felt proud of his cute accomplishment (the characters are so adorable), and even prouder that he was able to concentrate, despite his own inclinations elsewhere. I even dated them at the back, just like my father used to do with my own art work. This way, I could keep them forever as a souvenir.

While these ornaments were meant to be for the tree, it’s really dear how he put them in random places around the house as decor, and is very adamant about leaving them in their respective places. I really look forward to him doing more arts and crafts, so I could adorn our walls with them as time goes by. Parents whose children give them art work are the luckiest in the world; I’d love to receive them from my children, too.

***

I’m not sure how events will unravel with our home. We have a few weeks to find out. I hope and pray that all will be fixed and back to normal. Our hearts are heavy, to be sure, but these past Christmas activities and events with the kids have more than saved us. They’ve brought a ray of light to our darkness.

Can I see your bobo?

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The Log Farm

Thanksgiving was on Monday, October 9th, and it was the perfect autumn day for the holiday — cold, cloudy, and raining. Before that, it had already been raining for days and the kids had been stuck at home, so we thought it would be refreshing to spend the afternoon outdoors — we went to The Log Farm — before coming back home to celebrate the grand turkey.

I’m proud of myself for being efficient. I’d put the turkey in the oven early in the morning knowing that we’d do an afternoon activity, so that by the time we came back home the main dish was already prepped, with only a few side dishes to cook. Timing was perfect; the kids got to spend time outdoors at the farm and supper was ready just in time for hungry bellies.

I didn’t expect to see fellow guests at The Log Farm when we’d arrived, either; after all, it had been raining nonstop throughout the day. But when I saw fellow families bringing in their kids with their rain boots and umbrellas, I felt an immediate sense of comfort and warmth.

“There are other families braving the rain, too,” I thought.

“We’re all in it together.”

The wagon ride this time was really an autumn one. It had been raining and our bums were wet on the seat, and I held an umbrella over Gaia in her car seat the whole way through, but everything felt so right.

The leaves were their quintessential autumn colours; the weather was wet and rainy; the temperature was cold and crisp; and the wind was so relaxing, all worries had been forgotten. It was so cozy that Gaia fell asleep during the wagon ride, too.

Besides playing at his usual play barn, Keaton also fed goats. He loves feeding the animals here every time we visit.

The last activity we did on the farm was walk through scarecrow lane to spot all the funky scarecrows. This was my favourite part of the visit — being purely in nature among trees. With it finally looking and feeling like autumn, I was the happiest version of myself at this very moment.

This was supposed to be a mom giving her two kids a bath. So cute.

Last year, my parents and I had posed with this family of scarecrows (I was pregnant with Gaia).

The farm was about to close, so we had to scurry back shortly after our foresty walk. I really didn’t want to leave so soon.

Pink Lake, Gatineau Park

It was our first time at Pink Lake in Gatineau Park. We got off on the wrong footing — it wasn’t obvious which coordinates to insert in the GPS — but when we came around the second time, we saw a black bear along the side of the road, which retreated back to the forest when it saw us. I was fascinated because it was the first time I’d seen one.

“It’s a sign that we should go back,” my husband said.

It was almost a synchronistic encounter. Before we left the house, I’d read about black bears in Gatineau Park. This is because I like to understand and be aware of my environment and surroundings, and more so as a mom now. Safety is always paramount.

Just as I’d thought, though, it’s indeed often the case that black bears simply avoid human interaction. But, as visitors and guests visiting their habitat, it was important for us to be mindful of their home, and essentially, of our own safety.

(We didn’t go back home. We went ahead with our excursion.)

Pink Lake was breathtaking. It wasn’t pink, though. It was named Pink Lake in honour of the Pink family from Ireland who’d settled here back in 1826.

The lake is actually a deep blue-green colour due to the abundance of algae. Moreover, it’s in fact a meromictic lake, which means that the layers of waters don’t mix and mingle.

Looking into the lake was almost like looking into someone’s eyes. There was mystery in the translucence. Seeing the reflection of all the surrounding nature was like seeing a whole universe.

Here you could see the reflection of the clouds and surrounding trees.

The lake was especially beautiful here with its green hue.

We didn’t encounter any black bears during our hike, thankfully. Yet even if nature herself can be unpredictable and unfeeling, the unsettling part of the experience wasn’t that. It was our son.

While the lake was breathtaking and I longed deeply for healing and refuge being in nature, I still couldn’t bask in the moment. There was a stark contrast — a mocking juxtaposition between the peaceful scenery and the misery that lived in me.

We didn’t hike the whole trail and had to leave because our boy couldn’t, and wouldn’t, listen. He kept walking off ahead of us and inching closer to where he shouldn’t. Rather than enjoying the scenery and hike as a family, my husband and I were filled with stress and anxiety. Everything had become a safety hazard. The battle was constant.

There was nothing left of me in my life that was mine. After becoming a mom, what I needed most was a simple walk in nature, and even then it’s become an impossible feat. While being in nature when I was young meant that I could sense freedom, as a mom now going back there leaves me feeling a sense of hopelessness. So, I broke down and cried at the lookout.

There’s loss in knowing that for the time being, I can’t bridge the two greatest loves of my life: nature and my children. Gaia is very easygoing, so the challenge isn’t there with her. It’s rather with my dear boy. And the most painful part of it all is just the fact that I’d wanted to share this sweet moment with him, but I couldn’t because he wouldn’t let me.

Keaton is a special kid. He’s hyper-intelligent and his problem-solving skills are out of this world, with a brain of a seasoned engineer since his early days. He’s also very kind and feeling. Yet he can also be difficult to a degree that’s humanly unbearable to handle.

Despite the messy parts, there’s not a time when I want to be apart from him. Instead, I long to have him experience life to the fullest with me because we’re a team, and I owe it to him to give him a healthy life of growth and self-awareness.

Proulx Farm

Keaton did better the following days. He knew him and his baby sister were getting their flu shots — I’d prepared him for it — so the morning we went in, he was ready.

Both kids did amazing; neither of them had cried. Keaton was older and knew what was going on, and why. As for baby Gaia, she kept looking at the nurse and smiling while getting her vaccine.

We were so proud of Keaton when he’d told the nurse not to hurt his sister. He’s become so protective of her, which is so reassuring and endearing for my worried heart. He even asked to see our “bobo,” a reflection of worry and concern that’s deeply characteristic of him.

The kids were a bit tired and low-energy following their vaccines, but we still went to a farm because it made us all happy. This was our second visit of the season to Proulx Farm, and again, it was such an adventuresome place to be.

The last time we’d visited, it felt like a hot summer day; now, leaves abound and temperatures are colder.

With the abundance of leaves, I even collected some to put in the kids’ journals.

Gaia’s first time in a pile of autumn leaves!

At the end of our visit, we went to the pumpkin patch to pick our free pumpkins, which was really appreciated, because at this point, the squirrels had already eaten most of the dozen or so pumpkins in our yard.

It was a fun day with the kids, but it was also a confusing and tiring one for me — physically, mentally, emotionally. Funnily, I didn’t even know if I was going to make it through the day alive.

“Something’s off with me,” I told my husband.

Lately, besides the sporadic gushing nose bleeds — only from my right nostril — I’ve also been experiencing whooshing sounds and vibrations in my right ear. The morning of the farm visit, I’d suddenly woken up to intense neck pain that connected to my head, which made it impossible for me to reach out my hand without sharp pain. Later in the day, my tailbone also started hurting — so much so, I was in pain just standing up from sitting position.

Yet, I found myself at the farm. I guess I’m not normal in that regard. Normal people if in pain, rest and take it easy. Me if I’m in pain, I continue on as if nothing’s happening. Maybe that’s how I’ll croak?

“At least it’ll be in nature and I’ll retreat to the other side happily,” I reason.

First fall minis

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Always living life dangerously and on the edge

Natural contemplator in his natural habitat

We did something new and spontaneous this evening: we had a professional family photoshoot done for our family! It was a 15-minute fall mini photo session with a local photographer.

While I’ve always wanted to take professional family photos, my husband and I had agreed that it would be something we’d do in the future instead, when the kids are older, given that with little ones the process might be too erratic and challenging, and not to mention, costly.

But something magical had happened spontaneously today: while nursing Gaia I stumbled upon a fall mini session being offered by a local photographer the same day, and without hesitation, I messaged her right away to inquire about an evening shoot.

None of us were expecting a family photoshoot today. I texted my husband, who was working from home, to shower and shave during his last break of the day; and when Keaton woke up, I excitedly told him about our soon-to-be adventure, which, to my surprise, he became excited about when he’d learned about it.

And there we had it: it was decided that that would be our adventure of the evening, and everyone was on board. So, just before my husband finished work at 5PM, I quickly nursed Gaia and did a change of clothes for both her and Keaton. As for myself, all was simple and casual: just my usual black leggings and fall boots, and my signature mustard yellow “April O’Neil” raincoat. (Plus a prayer that I won’t look too dishevelled, like a raccoon who’d been in a street brawl.)

***

I’d never been to the pond and trail that had been selected by the photographer. When we arrived, I was mesmerized by the tranquil sight of the pond and the trees that framed it gracefully. I could also see the photographer finishing up her photoshoot with another client as well, trying to capture orchestrated but authentic, candid moments.

While we did bribe Keaton with a divine donut after the photoshoot, I must say that I’m very proud of how he behaved today. He was cooperative and eager to take part in the photo sessions. He was even affectionate and helpful with his sister. Sure, the donut had its weight, but before I’d even mentioned it, when I told him about an upcoming family photoshoot in the evening, he’d already had a big smile on his face that exuded enthusiasm.

That’s how I knew my son was getting older and more rational, and easier in ways that he wasn’t before: we could now talk to him, explain things (even complex things), and he could understand and cooperate and even give us feedback. He’s grown so much already. It’s even reflected in his relationship with his sister — especially so.

Keaton now accepts Gaia and is very fond of her. In fact, they’ve been playing exceptionally well together lately on their playmat. My momma heart can just burst with happiness. Nothing’s perfect; struggles will always persist. But seeing their bond and love grow is the greatest gift of my life.

***

My husband was afraid that with two little ones a 15-minute session wouldn’t be enough time, but I knew: it was just right. After 15 minutes, our photographer had all the poses she’d needed, and the kids were just about ready to hit the road flying for sweeter pastures. With kids, often times, short and sweet is best.

I, myself, had a great deal of fun. It was our very first professional family photoshoot. As the mom in the family who’s always taking photos of everyone, for the first time, I felt relaxed and taken care of. I was finally in photos and most likely not looking like my head is the size of a planet itself. (I’m usually the one taking failed selfies of our family of four, and as I’m the one holding the camera, naturally from that angle my head looks ginormous.)

I really look forward to seeing the finished, edited photos, especially all our imperfections and candid moments. Regardless of the end product, there’s perfection in our family of four being together in nature, just as fall is starting to poke its charming head out.

***

After our photographer had left, we stayed for a short walk to soak in the sunset and magical atmosphere. These are the photos I’d taken, unedited. I think they turned out quite cute.

***

Thank you to my dear husband who supports me on all my whimsical ideas and adventures. I love that as crazy parents with crazy lives we can still be spontaneous together, and find joy in it.

Past meets present

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Mackenzie King Estate

Fall Rhapsody in Gatineau Park is a must-see during the autumn season. Leaves have changed colours and autumn is in full essence — it’s a magnificent sight to behold.

The last time I’ve been to Gatineau Park was, I believe, in autumn of 2014. I’d met with an outdoors hiking group in Ottawa — yes, with strangers who were really kindred spirits — and together, we embarked on a hiking adventure in the beautiful Gatineau mountains. It had been a long time since I’ve last stepped foot there, and my soul’s been yearning this familiar and comforting — as well as healing — experience.

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of tracing my footsteps to the past. We drove up to the Mackenzie King Estate part of Gatineau Park. This Estate was home to Canada’s 10th and longest-serving Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, who’d later gifted his well-loved property to all Canadians. Today, and for many years, it’s become an attraction to many guests, loved for its aesthetic and historical value.

I haven’t been to the Mackenzie King Estate in particular since I was a pea size of about maybe five or six years old. I remember the photos of my childhood trip, but being back in person didn’t feel as nostalgic as I thought it would — it seemed rather unfamiliar. For my parents, on the other hand, they remembered their visit fondly. It warmed my heart to be able to bring them back here.


I love me a photo of myself walking in an abundant pile of leaves.


At eight months pregnant, walking long distances has become challenging, for I feel all kinds of pains and discomforts. Even moving at all is a challenge (imagine a whale trying to flip over in bed). I missed my stamina and energy at this very moment, because hiking has always been my favourite activity; and more than ever, I felt the limitations of my own body.

The sound of the water here was most peaceful. Keaton loved touching the water. He spent some time here with his grandpa, Kong-Kong.

Here goes our little explorer, again trying to discover, dismantle, and/or build something. It was a tender feeling to be back here after so many decades away — this time with a child of my own — and to see him enjoy being in nature so much. It was also, however, a difficult experience.

After many years away from the woods, coupled with motherhood, I had a deep yearning for solitude, reflection, and rejuvenation — and almost painfully so. But with my energetic toddler, moments like these have become rather rare, or if existent, full of disconnect. We all need moments to ourselves — and to varying degrees — but for myself, a solitary being at my core, this pain of lack is felt almost tenfold. I missed being alone in the woods, with only silence and shuffling leaves for company. In essence, I missed myself.

Keaton is such a kind-hearted kid, who’s so full of imagination, will, and compassion. And I love that he’s able to enjoy the little things in life: flowing water, colourful leaves, branches with which to create stories. Watching him walk through the woods — and yes, even running off and driving us bonkers — was very meaningful. When I look at this photo, despite the imperfections and fatigue of life, I see home: my son and nature.

Being back at Moorside on the Mackenzie King Estate brought about an “a-ha” moment. It was then that I remembered my childhood visit here, because I recalled the yellow houses where I took photos with my parents and our family friends at the time. I made sure to take a photo of my parents here during this visit, because it was also a past-meets-present experience for them.

I adored the architecture of the home and getting a glimpse of Mackenzie King’s aesthetic tastes and personality. The English cottage look and feel was simple yet elegant. It was neat to learn that it was also a venue where King had held meetings with other political figures — his countryside home a true source of pride.

My heart can be at peace now, for this year, I’ve had the opportunity to visit Gatineau Park in the fall — a dear place of mine — and to share this memory with my family.