Troubadour Quinn

As we speak, Quinn is running around in circles banging a tambourine yelling Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer at the top of his lungs while his piano repeats Jingle Bells at top volume. It's a good thing there's a high cute factor. He just wowed Brent The Electrician with an impressive rendition of The Wheels On The Bus. Oh - now he's onto Jingle Bells, albeit at a different rate than the piano. I'm getting heck for not playing my tambourine part right so now I'm resorting to 1-hnded hunt n pecking while I also play out of time...

It brings me back to Santa at the community centre. Quinn had studied the pianist's kazoo accompanist during the caroling. After the event was largely finished he wandered up to look at the kazoo. He got permission to try it. He blew and blew and blew harder. I told him to say the letter 'm' with a big finish. Quinn: blow. Mommy: 'Mmmmmm'. Quinn: blow. Daddy: 'Mmmmm'. Quinn: Blowmm. Eye twinkle. Daddy: "Yeah that's it". Quinn: MMMzzzz. Grin! And a kazoo star is born. He played it for 20 minutes solid, traipsing around the centre very earnestly, causing mirth for all. Now, I'm not sayin' I'm anxious to listen to it in the car all the way to Nova Scotia, but he did quite a fine job of it.

Reminds me a joke I once heard: "Zamfir, suppose I took up the pan flute at 7, how long would it take me to master it? Zamfir: Oh about 7:15.

Santa - a close encounter

A Christmas event at the community centre was on a Friday evening in early December. On the way there, Quinn was talking about the questions he was going to ask Santa - where does he live and why does he like the cold? There was a good crowd there - not overcrowded but enough to be a festive crowd. Someone was playing carols on the piano and people were singing. Quinn walked right up front to watch them and covered his sensitive ears with his hands, eliciting some smiles. The mother of a little girl the Bec takes care of sometimes played some rousing and animated solos on a kazoo shaped like a trombone. Quinn studied the kazoo at length from afar, and held his ears.

Then the announcement was made that Santa was on his way. The crowd parted and there was the right jolly old elf himself. Some kids ran up, some ran away. Some were excited and some looked like they were about to burst into tears. It's a big deal coming face to face with magic! Quinn sidled over but seemed unsure. He seemed to be leaning towards the "burst into tears" camp but he hung on bravely. Finally he told his mom he wanted to go home. Ok, she said. Mommy started a slow pace toward the door. Just before the threshold he caught sight of a table where kids were making a Christmas craft. It piqued his interest and he got up to make one. He focused very intently on it for quite a few minutes and did a good job on it.

After a subsequent two crafts, mommy asked if he wanted to go see Santa, who had taken up station on a largish-chair. They walked over to check it out. A few kids were still in line and Quinn had a chance to study the situation. Finally, it was his turn. Mommy got down and held him, and he slowly edged toward Santa, who got down low with welcoming arms (good ol' Santa knows how to do it!). Quinn, all by himself, edged over and talked to Santa some, and finally climbed up into his lap! They chatted for awhile and a picture was taken of Quinn with a great big grin.

It had been a definite progression. During the crafts it looked to me like he was still processing things out of the corner of his eye. But he did it all by himself. That night at bedtime I told him how proud I was of him that he went up to talk to Santa. He told Bec that he could go talk to Santa because she gave him a hug, which made her aglow and canceled out at least 150 dirty diapers right there.

It makes you wonder how we'd all react in the face of magic. Study and approach thoughtfully seems like a life skill that would stand us all in good stead.

Excavator day!

Our house reno is getting under way. This morning I awoke to some beeping and went downstairs to find Quinn entranced by a truck picking up a dumpster. More beeping. Excavator has arrived. Sheesh Quinn, which window should we look out?? Dumpster guy had to rearrange the load so we ran to the front window to watch the excavator unload. Then dumpster guy started pulling the box onto the truck and we ran to the back window. Then the truck was gone and we ran to the front window to watch the excavator again. He picked up an extra bucket and drove into our yard. Quinn was practically vibrating with excitement, giggling, and grinning from ear to ear!

Shortly after he parked, our contractor's workers, Andrew and Steve, showed up and started the excavator again, picked up the extra bucket and drove into the back yard. Quinn sat on a chair by the back window, munched on some snack and watched the old garage concrete pad get ripped up in 15 minutes flat. Quinn was particularly excited that he might use the bulldozer blade (stabilizer) to push the rubble around, which he eventually did. Another 15 minutes took care of the asphalt and deck pilings.

I had to tear myself away from the excitement to go to work, but apparently Quinn got to sit in the cab during a break, and Andrew (who also has a son, 4) sat him in his lap and let him pull the levers. Apparently Quinn was telling Andrew what all the levers did. Andrew was impressed with his knowledge.

An excavator, Quinn's favourite thing, right here in our own back yard! Quinn was in heaven, and he lapped it up all day. A day that shall be forever ensconced in Quinn's memory as Excavator Day.

A master of vacuuming

The other day I had the hand vacuum out for something. Quinn got ahold of it when I set it down. He wanted me to turn it on for me. I encouraged him to do it himself. He wanted to cover his ears though (he's very sensitive to noise). I said maybe he could put on his earmuffs (ear protection we bought for him for taking him to concerts). He liked that idea. He found his earmuffs and wanted me to put them on for him. I encouraged him to do it himself, and showed him how. Then he wanted me to turn it on. I encouraged him to try it himself, using his two thumbs to press harder on the button, which is kind of stiff.

He then proceeded to vacuum everything in sight. The couch, the ottoman, the living room floor, the kitchen floor. I even moved some furniture to take advantage this outburst of industriousness. He took his earmuffs on and off, and turned the vacuum on and off, and was quite proud of doing so all by himself, all 27 times. Then he figured out how to empty it, which was a little messy, but no matter. The battery eventually died and that was the end of that, except for him chattering about it for another half hour.

The next day I got home from work to see him with the big vacuum cleaner out, earmuffs on, vacuuming like mad. He could turn it on and off, retract the cord, empty the bin in the kitchen garbage can, put the bin back on, lining up the notch, and start vacuuming again. He vacuumed for an hour.

Every now and then I have to remind myself he's two.

He's very serious and businesslike when he's putting his earmuffs and going to work, but also has a certain air of satisfaction in going about. I wonder if maybe he's mirroring me tearing down the garage a couple weeks ago, which Quinn watched intently. It's early to say for sure, but it appears he'll have a work ethic, and also safety consciousness, both of which please me. It makes me wonder whether it's just his nature, or whether early examples can be formative lifelong. Whatever the case, he is a master of vacuuming now, and proud of it.

Weekend at Grandma's and Grandpa's

It was our anniversary this weekend. Bec's parents offered to take Quinn for the weekend. Woohoo! We've been talking about it for awhile and Quinn seemed excited about it. It's a big step - first overnight not in the care of mommy or daddy. However, I strongly suspected the step was bigger for us than for him. They picked him up Saturday morning. Bec was a little forlorn but Quinn was like "can't wave now mom and dad - I'm eating my snack". Fortunately we had stuff to do to keep us busy for the afternoon.

One of the things that changes when you have kids is you become much more efficient with your time. I thought I was pretty time-efficient before kids but now I realize how far off the mark I was. Even still, we were astounded at the amount of fun and accomplishments we crammed into the slightly more than 24 hours Quinn was away. Most refreshing was the ability to go to a nice dinner at a normal time and not have to choreograph schedule around bedtime. No wait - it was the ability to sleep in. No wait - it was getting from the door to the car in less than half an hour. No wait - it was the ability to go to the spa together and spontaneously go for ice cream on the way home.

So many vestiges of lifestyles gone by. The relentlessness of parenthood is particularly high at this stage of going-on-three that Quinn is at and the break was sooooo welcome. But we missed the little gaffer even still. We were both quite excited when the call came that they were inbound. Quinn apparently had a wonderful time and didn't ask about us once. As usual, sleep was the only challenge. It sounds like everyone had fun, and while the grandfolk aren't exactly clamouring to come do it again next weekend, they sounded open to doing it again soon.

As often seems to happen with a scenery change, Quinn seems to have taken a mental leap forward. His speech is even more clear, he seems to grasp a few higher concepts I don't remember him knowing, and he can now jump. Yes jump - he's been quite behind on that front but we haven't sweated it since everything else, physical skills included, seems on track, but now he can do it. He seems quite proud of it too.

A great leap forward for all of us.

Can't see me now Uncle Brucie!

Those exact words were uttered by me when I was a kid as I covered my own eyes, figuring that if I couldn't see Uncle Brucie then he couldn't see me. That logic loophole now lives on yet again in Quinn. Yes, we've hit the hide and seek stage, and it leads to much mirth. He hides in plain sight under trees and yells "I'm over here!". He hides under his table in plain sight with arms and legs sticking out and giggles. And yes, sometimes he just stands there and covers his eyes.

It started one rainy evening we'd missed our (somewhat) nightly walk around the block, so I suggested hide and seek. Bec suggested hiding on the opposite floor for added exercise for Quinn. So count I did, slowly and loudly, and Bec and Quinn raced upstairs, as fast as I've seen Quinn take them. They hid under a blanket on the bed and I loudly explored around the house. As I got closer, Quinn giggled and said "I'm under here!" to laughter all around. Then Quinn and I hid downstairs while Bec counted. In all I think we did about 8 reps that night. He got a big kick out of it.

It's taking a little coaching, but he'll actually stay quiet occasionally if you're hiding with him if you whisper to him almost constantly. And of course it's difficult for a little monkey to keep still. But he has found a couple of legitimately great hiding spots, and as the journey is often more important than the destination, we all have lots of fun hiding right there in plain sight.

Little Fixit

Quinn has a gear set. It's magnetic and resides on the fridge. A battery-powered motor drives the whole set and you can mesh the gears in various ways. It's been a great toy, and a great way to convey concepts of how things work. Quinn has played with it on and off for a long time.

Recently the battery in the electric motor has been getting a little tired and Quinn has been asking to have it fixed. Finally the other day it was obviously not working well so we decided to fix it. I gave Quinn a screwdriver and told him which screw to undo, which he did. I told him to take the battery out and remember which way the bump pointed. I gave him a new battery and told him to put it in the way the other one was when it came out. I told him to put the cap back on and fasten the screw again. Then we put the old battery in the special garbage and put the screwdriver away. He did all the physical actions all by himself, and was he ever proud!

Of course now he wants to fix everything, even the stuff that's not broken. But fortunately he doesn't appear to remember the drawer where the screwdriver lives so I think everything else with screws in it is safe (we never had to baby-proof that drawer - no idea why that drawer is different, but it always has been!). It won't be long before he's teaching me stuff.

Crazy Legs Crane

We went to a skating party today for a friend of Quinn's. In anticipation, we bought Quinn some real hockey skates, used, a junior stick, and a skate trainer (one of those chair-like things you push around when learning to skate). Today, the big day, we measured and cut off his stick and taped it up. He seemed quite keen on the whole thing, walking around the store in his skates, and keenly interested in his new stick.

As soon as his skates touched the ice his feet started going a million miles an hour, even though he was travelling zero miles an hour. A couple times I was able to get him to stand up, but the least little movement triggered ol' crazy legs again. He was game though - he had a big grin on for much of it. Bec & I had to trade off often due to the resulting back strain. He would hold his stick and whack at a hockey ball we brought while we were holding onto him. Eventually I just sat him down on his bum with his stick in his hand. We skated around him and he whacked the ball to us / near us / nowhere near us, again with huge grins.

He seemed keen to watch the other kids playing. It's the age old thing where a tiny little bit of watching is worth a ton of telling. I tried hard not to be too excited - it's a game I love so much and have had so much fun playing, but I don't want to pressure him into it. It felt so good to get my skates on again and it was so good to see his big smiles, but I was stressing about how to teach him and felt like I was doing it all wrong. Bec was really good with him though and made it all about having fun on the ice, which is all it should be right now. While I wouldn't rate the first experience on hockey skates as a rousing success, it was about as good as could be expected, and he perhaps shows some instinct with a stick.

We played a little hockey in the living room when we got home and I thought he got it a little more. Fun was had and we didn't overdo it, so I think there will be a next time. Que sera sera.

There's a gourd in my shoe

Quinn has taken to putting a recently acquired gourd in my shoe. It has become a running joke. Every day I say "There's a gourd in my shoe!" and look incredulous. Quinn giggles and says "How did that get there?" "I don't know", I say. "Quinn did it!" he gleefully offers. At night I leave the gourd in his shoe for the next day. One day he made me carry it to work in my sweater pocket. I forgot about it until I was getting ready to go home and it made me smile.

He's got a pretty good sense of humour. He gets a kick out of making his mother laugh. He cracks up over certain passages in books. He giggles when something is out of place. It shows good judgement, that he knows the difference between normal and abnormal. It's a handle we can use to deal with certain otherwise possibly stressful situations. It's a bridge to the important people in his life. It will serve him well his entire life I'm sure. May we continue to cultivate it. Gourds in my shoe will keep him from going out of his.

Fun at the store

We went to Canadian Tire today. Quinn was a little wound up. He was mostly good while we were shopping. He was climbing into the plastic bins we were looking at buying. Every now and then he'd bolt off with a glint in his eye, requiring some hot pursuit. Then one time he took off at full speed and just kept going. Bec went flying after him and bystanders giggled as Quinn dove full-length into a shopping cart outfitted with a "car" for kids to drive. A few minutes later they came trundling back with grins all around.

As we were heading for the checkout Quinn caught sight of the lawn tractors, much like grampa's. Nothing would do but we had to go see them. And sit on them. And daddy had to sit on the next one. We had pretend races. We made tractor sounds. At one point two employees came down the aisle and I realized they probably couldn't see Quinn. As they passed I said "I bet I looked pretty silly until you saw the two year old". "We see grownups do it all the time" they said.

Quinn can really motor now. We walked home from the neighbourhood pub after dinner tonight and Quinn ran pretty much the whole way. He had a couple of face plants, but one was on grass and the other didn't slow him down for long. He's growing up so quick it seems!

Excellence with Grampa

Grampa took Quinn to the fair today. Four hours they were gone! They took the bus there and back. Grampa fed him candy apple, mini donuts, ice cream and a beaver tail. Oh yeah, and one bite of cheese from the supper Bec sent along with them. They saw lots of animals. Quinn had his picture taken with two parrots, one on his shoulder and one in his hand. They saw lots of noisy rides and lots of people. Grampa got him Buzzy the Bee (yes, yes, it's a Stuffed Animal Moratorium Violation, but we'll make an exception for A Day At The Fair With Grampa...).

Quinn had a great day and was good as gold apparently. I think both he and grampa were pooped by the end of it, but smiles were had all around. I don't think it should be called The Fair - it should be called The Excellent.

What's bigger than big?

Why, Big Big of course. Then comes Big Big Biiiiiiiiig. After that is Huge. Then Enormous. And just tonight, we had EnormousNormousNormous.

Today, with visiting Cousin Caroline, we also had firetrucks rescuing hapless cars from the Pillow Monster's pillow-and-blanket fort. And also apparently one of Quinn's toots flew out the window, down the driveway into a puddle and was chased by some squirrels.

The imagination stage is here in spades.

The Camping Experiment

It went about as well as could be expected I suppose, and we learned a few things. Quinn had a blast, but sleep was difficult, which is pretty much what we predicted.

We arrived at Fitzroy Harbour Provincial Park mid morning and went to the beach. Quinn had a blast. Of course he wanted nothing to do with his own sand toys and prowled the whole beach in search of others' toys. In the end that worked out ok though - he's getting pretty good at interfacing with other kids, except for the part where kids don't want the forced trade...but he's getting better at it. It's a process. We went for a swim and Quinn loved that. We ate some lunch at the beach and then went for a walk, hoping Quinn would stroller-nap, but that was not to be. At least he got some quiet time, except for his own constant babbling. So we went to our site and set up.

After setup and snack, keeping Quinn corralled was difficult. We realized we need to bring stuff for him to do on-site. We elected to go back to the beach. This was a hit all-around again, except for the lack of shade on the blazing hot day. Returning to our site for supper, Quinn very nearly fell asleep in the stroller - awkward timing, post-nap, pre-bed, so we kept him awake. We roasted hotdogs over an open fire using sticks. Quinn didn't like the smoke much, and gave the fire a lot of respect by staying well away from it (how do impart that safety importance without terrifying a toddler? I'm still searching for the sweet spot in that tradeoff...) but he still had fun. Clearly he was tired though. Great we thought - maybe the upcoming bedtime will go ok.

Yeah right! Putting him to sleep in broad daylight, in a tent, in the heat, amid numerous neighbours' radios, was a complete non-starter. First we tried him just laying down on the floor of the tent. Moments after Bec left the tent we heard a 'zzzzzzzipppp' and then the cute little mostly-naked imp peeked around the corner of the car at us. Attempt #2 was in the travel crib. Again he wanted mommy to leave, and moments later he climbed out of the travel crib and....'zzzzzzzipppp' again. After a stroller stint, another travel crib attempt and two and half hours of trying, he finally fell asleep during the second stroller stint, just when we were debating whether we'd need to abort and return home. He stayed asleep during the transfer to the crib and stayed asleep all night.

Unfortunately Bec fretted about Quinn being cold all night and didn't sleep well. After a blazing hot day and a hot bedtime, it got coolish at night, so Bec kept putting a blanket on him and he kept pushing it off. Then of course, he was up with the sun. With a missed nap and a short sleep, he was a mess. Bec and Quinn went to a shallow stream that looked interesting but he wanted nothing to do with it. So they went to the beach while I tore down. I caught up with them at the beach, we had a short lunch there, and then hit the road, hoping for Quinn to have a car-nap. He wailed "don't wanna leave beach", "don't wanna go in car", etc etc, but he was asleep within a minute and a half in the car. We took the long long looooong way home and all was well after that.

It was a massive prep for about 24 hours of "wildernessing". The prep should be easier next time around though - first time camping in awhile, especially car-camping, and first time with a toddler, extended the prep. I think Quinn really enjoyed it though. With some more entertainment for Quinn, and just not attempting to put him to bed til it's dark, I think it could all go a lot better. And first experiences for Quinn are often "groundwork". Next time we'll all be a little wiser. It's all part of the process for all of us I suppose.

Sneaky Trucks, Collapsing Bridges and Playing Pillows

One of Quinn's favourite things to do right now is play "sneaky trucks". I have no idea where the name came from. It must be some offhand thing we said that he glommed onto. Anyway, it involves someone being the cement truck driver while Quinn operates the front loader. The cement truck driver has to drive around with a load of wooden blocks. Then Quinn/front loader driver announces that he needs a load of blocks. The cement truck driver backs up, complete with back-up beeping, and then the driver gets out, goes around to the back and operates a pretend lever to dump the blocks into the front loader. Then the front loader driver goes crazy, shaking the blocks out of his bucket all over. In the original version, the cement truck driver had to collect the blocks up from all over. In a continuing effort to not play games where Quinn does all the ordering and everyone else does all the work, we've compromised on the cement truck driver collecting nearby blocks and the front loader driver pushing the rest over with his front loader for collection. He'll play it for 20 minutes straight. He'll play it every day. He'll play it several times a day.

Previous to that, it was "collapsing bridge" that was the popular game. Quinn would "make a bridge" by stretching over the chasm between the couch and the ottoman. Mommy or daddy would then have to crawl underneath the bridge, upon which the bridge would collapse on top of mommy/daddy. Sometimes we'd just then lay there in a heap. Sometimes the bridge would get flipped back up on the couch to giggles. Sometimes the bridge would flop off mommy/daddy and run around for a flying head tackle on mommy/daddy. Right after supper became a popular time for "collapsing bridge" so one day daddy joked about pizza flying out his nose after one bridge collapse. That then became the ongoing shtik, with various food flying out of daddy's nose and the mysterious invisible raccoon whose favourite foods were nose pizza and nose cereal.

The classic "Playing Pillows" has also had longstanding popularity, both on the couch and on Mommy and Daddy's bed. It basically involves a big pile of pillows, and various front flops, back flops and flying tackles. Quinn then sometimes hides under the pillows to "go to sleep" (emulating his father's slightly odd pillow predilections methinks...), followed by a euphoric "Time To Get Up!" announcement and more flops and tackles.

Who needs battery-powered flashing and blinking to have fun?

Rover the Robot

I always wanted one. I finally bought a Roomba Robotic Vacuum. It drives around on its own, seemingly randomly sometimes, scooping up dirt with a little brush/vaccuum on its underside. It's got several sensors to avoid obstacles or react to bumping into things, and has "advanced algorithms" for full floor coverage. Watching to see if it eventually gets a plainly visible bit of dirt is a little like high-speed cow-chip bingo. It even returns to its docking station when it's done or its battery is exhausted.

It's been a source of great fascination in the house. I love studying how it goes about its business and trying to figure out how it's making its decisions. Bec loves to micromanage it, picking it up and making it go over missed spots (I'm working at getting her to be at peace with the Advanced Algorithms...). Quinn gets up on the couch and chatters excitedly about its progress.

We decided upon a name of 'Rover' for our robot. Rover has already become a part of the family. In fact, Rover might have already surpassed our perpetually-hidden cat Tulsa on the depth chart. We joke about Rover tickling our toes. Quinn woke up the other morning and said "Time to turn on Rover!" (or 'Woever' as he calls him). One other day Quinn was having a complete meltdown until I played the Rover Fascination card - upon which Quinn was completely galvanized and forgot all about his malaises. That was an unforseen benefit not shown in the glossy brochures. Even Tulsa, terrified of everything, seems to not even notice it.

As a side benefit, it's even actually not bad as a vacuum. It's not a replacement by any means, but it keeps a lot of the summertime detritus in check. Like all pets though, it has achieved status enough to likely warrant expensive repairs when the inevitable breakdowns occur. Until then, we'll keep studying, coaching and placing our cow-chip bingo bets.

Slobbery Harmonicas

Quinn was proudly playing his harmonica when I walked in the door from work today. "Daddy play" he said emphatically, triumphantly holding up a dripping, slobbery harmonica. "Uh, sure....daddy play... {ugh...}" says daddy. Fortunately the low 'C' seemed least awash, and even more fortunately Quinn was excited enough about his harmonica as to immediately want it back after one blow (ick) and one draw (ack! what was I thinking!) by daddy.

You just have to be immune to slobber with a two year old.

Ice Cream Frenzy

We went to dinner at a nearby restaurant last Sunday. We asked Quinn if he wanted ice cream for dessert. He said "YESSSSSS!!!!" in a way that made his ice-cream-loving mom proud. Out comes an amount of ice cream about three times as much as we'd hoped. Bec and I plowed through our own shared dessert as fast as possible to begin to defray the amount of ice cream Quinn ingested as much as possible. Quinn scooped huge spoonfuls of ice cream into (and around the general vicinity of) his mouth.

We decided to walk a bit before heading home. Quinn immediately went charging down the sidewalk full tilt in a frenzy that was anything but plain vanilla. At a used car lot he began weaving around the security posts, then circling back doing it the other way, over and over again. He ran around the posts and parking lot with hair flying and a huge grin for 10 minutes without pause. After a while I decided quite possibly he could walk the whole 4 km home under ice cream power. I retrieved our bikes and we started to coax him in the direction of home. Sidewalk running, raised curb balancing, and yet more empty parking lot careening ensued.

After achieving about a quarter of the distance home in anything but a straight line, we had to bundle him back into the bike trailer due to bedtime constraints. I honestly wonder how far we would have made it. It was about 20 solid minutes of sugar rush. On the one hand, we were alarmed by the reaction, but secretly a little gratified that he obviously didn't get a lot of sugar, which is somewhat difficult to achieve in this day and age. We'll have to build up his tolerance I suppose - both his daddy and mommy have had years of building such an immunity - but it sure is mighty entertaining at this stage.

Quinn's Busy

The other day I asked Quinn if he wanted to come look out the front window to wave bye-bye to mommy. "Quinn's busy" he announced in an official tone of voice, and he resumed playing garage. Since he'd done this once to Bec already I was able to contain my laughter and therefore respectfully respect his wishes. He definitely has a mind of his own.

And what a mind it is. "How it works?" is a daily fixture. We've taken apart his vibrating truck to see how it works. We've examined a toilet under repair, bicycle gears, garbage trucks, lumber mills, flour mills, natural gas delivery and furnaces, airborne and aquatic propellers. He even listened attentively while daddy explained how he "makes wires work" at work, which was a bit of a challenge to explain to a 2-year old.

Bec rides me about the long-play descriptions I give Quinn, but I try very hard to explain everything in terms he understands, and he eats it all up. I love that part. I try to avoid preconceptions for Quinn, but other than not being a Leafs fan, being intelligent is something I really really hope he demonstrates. It's so much easier to keep them engaged and "busy" when they're intelligent. So far, so great!

Articling

Quinn is articling already. He used the word 'the' a while back. He's effectively employing lots of stalling and imploring strategies. He's quick to point out injustices when daddy forgets a step at bedtime. It's obvious that our strong efforts to keep our promises are duly noted. Quinn is doing very well at observing playground sharing fairness. And finally, Quinn's eyes light right up when you give him some coins for his piggy bank.

Being called to the bar can't be far behind.

Chomping muffins and Mommy and Magician

If you ever want to feel good about your magician skills, I recommend you practice on two-year-olds. Bec made some muffins this morning, some big some small. Quinn likes to take a bite out of a small muffin and then call it a "chomping muffin" due to its pac-man-like appearance. Now he likes to feed Viola The Stuffed Hippopotamus, his new best friend, when he eats snack. Then Mommy The Amazing Magician pulls this amazing trick where she tugs a little on Viola's tail and lo and behold, a mini-muffin appears from it!

He never tires of it, so I also recommend that if you want to practice on Quinn, be prepared to practice a lot.

Hooray!

Quinn's started this thing at the supper table where he suddenly throw his hands in the air and says "hooray"! Sometimes it's a particularly emphatic "hoooo. RAYYYYYY" with matching hand flourish. He's definitely got some ham in him.

The Mystery of the Missing Hockey Sticks was solved by Quinn today. Two of his three mini-hockey sticks have been missing for days. I searched high and low and could not find them. My biggest concern was that they might be in the garbage. Not being able to find them, I was forced to rummage through the garbage to ensure they weren't in there. I didn't find them, and so I figured they'd turn up someday.

Quinn's mini hockey sticks are key implements in retrieving items from under the couch, which happens, oh, about 175 times a day. Today something went underneath again and he went to get his hockey stick. Suddenly he was taken with an idea and said "Quinn missing hockey sticks. Quinn use hockey stick to find other hockey sticks". He went under the dining room table and started rummaging around in the vicinity of the drawer on one end. Lo and behold, inside Bec found the hockey sticks. Quinn was quite proud of himself.

It amazes me that he can stump us at such an early age. That doesn't bode well for teenage years eh? But the important thing is that the sticks are found. Hooray for that.

Nor'easter meets Sou'wester

Quinn has now figured out how to squirt water out of his bath toys. I've required a full change after his bath the last two nights. Our little nor'easter is making me need a sou'wester.

On another note, we had an hour-long Skype video call to Nana and Grampy last weekend. It went very well. Our laptop lacks the horsepower for smooth video but it was quite serviceable nonetheless - plenty good enough for an hour-long call. The mobility of the laptop makes it much easier for them to see Quinn in his natural habitat, playing in the living room. Quinn was playing with his grandparents long-distance, making them coffee in his kitchen and holding up the cup to nana's mouth in the picture on the screen. I think all involved enjoyed it immensely.

Lost and found

I was successfully able to retrieve the letter Y alphabet train card from the gap above the dishwasher and below the counter, using a butter knife and a barbecue skewer. However, the missing potty pot remains missing after an extensive search. Hopefully Quinn didn't pick this time to use it for the third time ever.

How that works?

Being an engineering geek, some of my favourite times with Quinn are when I'm explaining how something works to him. It's especially fun when he gets into his "I'm learning something" mode, where he gets quiet and attentive, and sometimes even makes lyrical "hmmmMmm" sounds. Today it officially transitioned to him actively wondering. "How it works?" he said a couple times today. And then he'd listen attentively while I explained as best I could in terms he'd understand.

The first was the dishwasher. He got a big kick out of me describing how the water comes out of the holes in the spinny things, and he spun the spinny things around for awhile. (Hopefully the dishwasher doesn't suffer the same fate as our currently ailing vacuum cleaner, which has spent a little too much time as a pumper firetruck.)

The second was his toy fishing rod. "How it works?" he said? And so I got a pen and a string and showed how when you turned the pen with the string attached to it, the string wound around the pen, and turning the handle on the fishing rod was like turning the pen. He wanted to see inside the fishing rod. I got a screwdriver and started to take it apart, but alas one of the screws stripped and we couldn't get into it. (You just can't get a good used toy plastic fishing rod for $1.89 any more)

Inquisitive, this boy, and in an analytical way too. I have to say that at the outset I was sort of dreading the "why" phase, but right now I'm quite excited about it. Several people have commented about his analytic tendencies. Wait til I start showing him spreadsheets! He makes his engineer daddy proud!

Unsleeping

Quinn yelled for 2 hours and 35 minutes at bedtime tonight. That's 9300 seconds. Uttering "Want Mommy" approximately every 4 seconds, that totals about two thousand, three hundred and twenty five times he repeated himself. Now, I know he's a ways off from an engineering degree, but you'd think he'd get it after awhile - we're not coming in.

It was an hour fifty last night. Naps have gone to heck - wail on the way down, sleep short, wail when he wakes up. How can it be so bad after this long?? We're a house full of stress hormones because of it, that's for sure. Maybe it's his campaign to be an only child.

Does sleep trouble cause the stress, or does stress cause the sleep trouble? After a grueling week of analyzing and debating, through household illnesses and on limited sleep, I'm changing jobs to try to reduce my stress level. Maybe my stress is transferring to him? I'm trying to do my part to fix it. Hopefully our lot's lot improves. A lot.

Canal wheeing

The canal opened this week for skating. It's quite warm right now (+1C) but we decided to chance it with low expectations, just taking Quinn walking around on the slushy ice if necessary. It turned out to be a lot of fun! Quinn was in the chariot. We skated probably 4 km. It had good patches where you could actually skate and others where you just tried to stay upright. But it was better than we expected and we stopped for a Beavertail, so it was all good.

After Beavertails, Quinn walked up and down the stairs (nice new stairs this year by the way - I guess they figured they'd replace the 40 year old sets this year). He got a glint in his eye and tried to run like mad on the asphalt pathway at the top of the stair, with Bec in hot pursuit in her skates. Luckily she caught him in time. Then Bec and I took turns skating around with Quinn suspended, sliding between our legs. Back and forth, circles, arcing side to side. Quinn had a great big grin on the whole time.

Then we skated back and played in the snow at Green's Creek for awhile before heading home. A good outing all around.

A little naked boop, here for a bath

"It's *bathtime*! Do you want to walk to the tub on your own?"

(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle.) He plunges down the hallway with a wild grin on his face, feet pumping, arms waving.

"That's not the bathroom. Come out of the office and let's go to the bathtub."

(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle) A little naked bum careens down the hall.

"That's not the bathroom. Come out of mommy and daddy's bedroom and let's go to the bathtub." (I hope he doesn't pee)

(ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump GiggleGiggle)

"Got you, ok it's bathtime"

There's no purer joy than a little naked boop on the lam in the hallway.

First Potty Foray

Quinn saw me peeing just before his bath tonight. He then wanted to sit on the potty himself. Bec started to strip him down to do so, but upon encountering poopiness had to abort and retreat to the changetable. After that was taken care of Quinn came back into the bathroom and *still* wanted back on the potty, but this time the big potty. I started to say no and steer him toward the little potty, not wanting him to get freaked out by the prospect of falling into the big potty. But Bec plunked him right on the big potty and he seemed totally at home up there (with Bec holding him the whole time of course). We praised him and told him how high up he was. He sat there for a couple minutes, and when Bec picked him up there was evidence he'd actually peed!

I have to say I don't find diapers so bad in general. The whole potty learning phase sounds like it has more potential disgustingness but the books say we're at the right age to start it (too young - not ready; too old - ingrained in a pattern; now = the right time). When you break it down, it's a difficult thing to teach, really - the idea of a "full feeling", and particularly sensing that feeling in advance of the event. He seems to get it, and he seems keen. Hopefully it'll be a natural transition. Wish us luck!

Gaining altitude, taking flight

Quinn can climb onto the dining room chairs now. And the computer desk chair. And the back of the rocking chair. He can push a chair out of the dining room to the entertainment unit and climb up to see what's on top. He's a good little monkey, but always very curious. (Wherever will I hang my yellow hat??) We're running out of safety zones for stuff he shouldn't have. The upside is he can do some stuff on his own (including draw in his book at the table - yay he's drawing now!). The down side is he can do some stuff on his own now.

And so we enter a new stage of independence. I suppose we should embrace it with education and encouragement and we'll do our best at that. He's always been quite good about listening, and about staying away from things he shouldn't have. We try to only say 'no' when it's important but when you do that a thousand times a day 'no' sometimes becomes unfortunately habitual. It's difficult to let go though, given how small and vulnerable he is. It just takes one incident. I suppose that will be a repeating refrain for the next, oh, 30 years. The fledging continues.

There's no 'h' in 'sitting'

Bec's playing hockey tonight. I was quarterbacking bedtime. Quinn was very good, carrying his milk and walking upstairs all by himself. Everything when swimmingly and he got in the bath. Due to past events with gravity and, uh, 'fiber processing', we have instituted a 'no standing' rule in the tub. Tonight I let my guard down and neglected to say anything while he squatted with a train locomotive at the end of the tub. After a minute or so I noticed the 'floaties'. Uh oh. I whipped Quinn out of the tub. Salty The Train, Blue Whale and Theodore Too were removed, destined for the dishwasher. The rest would have to wait til after bedtime.

I got Quinn dried off while we chatted about how poop goes in diapers and potties but not in tubs. He seemed to get it but only time will tell I suppose. Since bathtime was short, we had a long read, which Quinn loves. The whole time I was dreading the cleanup that awaited me. Quinn, perhaps sensing the situation, went down like a dream. The cleanup went not too bad either, although I must say I noted that my guck-tolerance has increased a lot in the last two years.

It's only the third time that's happened in two years so I guess we're fortunate, although it took a little time before I was able to even consider that phrase tonight. We haven't started full-blown potty training but we're starting to think about it and lay some groundwork, so maybe this will be useful in the long run. Until then, only 'sitting' in the tub.