Aurora Wells

Which is my way of saying that even though it sucks, sucks, sucks that the naps are over, finito, yesterday’s news, gone with the dodo, and so on, there are some benefits. For instance, we can now take classes or make appointments after 11 a.m. without interrupting the Sacred Napping Cycle. The Cycle, for those of you that are interested, began each day at 11 a.m. with a full hour of lunch (Aurora’s a slow eater), followed by potty time, books, milk, song, etc. By 12:30 or 1 p.m. Aurora was in the crib, where she would complain or just talk to herself for 60-90 minutes before either pooping or falling asleep. If she pooped, game over, the diaper must be changed, and there was no napping after that. If she fell asleep, she’d usually be out for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, which means that the whole cycle took about 6 hours, during which I couldn’t do anything outside the house, and nothing that made very much noise within the house, either. Blog postings were an excellent way to spend a quiet hour (or four) each afternoon.

So yes, for those of you who are wondering why I don’t write blog posts very often anymore, it is because of the total lack of afternoon naps. Aurora’s last real nap was sometime around U.S. Thanksgiving, and although she did drift off on long car rides a couple of times in December, that was pretty much it for the whole nap thing. I’ve never heard of a child who was so convinced that naps were the enemy, and who had conducted such a successful war against them for so long, but there it is. The war has been won by Aurora. “Hail the conquering heroine!”

The other benefit of ending the naps is that nighttime sleeping has gotten eerily consistent, and consistently good. Bath at 7, in bed by 8:15, asleep by 8:30 means that she will wake up at 7:30 a.m. on the dot. She may vary by 30 minutes from day to day, but she’s remarkably consistent now, and for that I am extremely grateful.

So now Aurora and I are free from the tyrrany of napping (can you hear Mommy’s soft regretful sniffling in the background?), and we can stay longer at museums, or dine out for lunch (she loves edamame), or do whatever we want in the afternoon. We usually have “quiet time” for an hour, which consists of Aurora playing make-believe with her stuffed animals in the crib while Mommy answers emails, preps dinner, or grabs a quick snooze. It reminds me of Bill Cosby’s “Kindergarten” sketch, wherein the teacher announces that it’s naptime, and while 25 kids lie wide awake on mats, the teacher puts her head down on her desk and passes out. It’s all for the best. Really.

Grandma Gail and Grandpa Larry definitely chose the best possible week to visit Vancouver in the winter this year. They were here last week, when despite all predictions of constant rain, the sun managed to shine almost every day. Meanwhile, they worried that their house in Southern California might be floating away in the heavy rains that area endured for days on end.

We mostly stayed at home and ran a few errands, but on Friday we had a small adventure. The plan was to drive down to Point Roberts, the miniscule bit of U.S. territory just south of Tsawwassen, B.C., just to see it. Then we’d do a little bird-watching and visit a playground in Tsawwassen or Delta, and have a hearty lunch at The Boot & Sombrero, our favourite eatery in Ladner. All would have been easy-peasy, except that Grandma & Grandpa forgot to bring their passports, and instead of turning around and going back for them, I made the mistake of blundering ahead and trying to cross the border. By the way, the border crossing at Point Roberts is an honest-to-goodness, actual, bona fide checkpoint, with cameras, guards, guns and everything. We explained the ridiculousness of our purpose (”we just wanted to see it, ya know?”) and after five very tense (on my part) or very laughable (on Gail’s part) minutes of interrogation, the U.S. guard let us through. I spent the next half hour worrying about getting back through Canadian Customs on the other side.

As for the sights in Point Roberts, there is a huge marina, a pub or two, many real estate offices and nice homes, a few artists’ studios, and not much else. Almost everyone has an ocean view. We briefly visited Lighthouse(less) Park, but the chilly wind drove us quickly back into the car. There were a bunch of birds playing around in the wind and surf at the shore, some of which were seagulls, but others were (gasp!) Bald Eagles. When they flew past us, less than 20 feet away, we did a double-take, like, “Did I just see what I think I saw?” Yes, indeed, those black specks in the photo are bald eagles, but since I don’t have a telephoto lens, they look a lot farther away then they actually were in person!

The crossing back into Canada was much more low-key; I guess nobody in Canada expects a threat to national security to arrive in a Prius with a toddler, grandparents, and no baggage in the trunk.

The find of the day was Diefenbaker Park on 1st Avenue (as in, 1 block from the U.S.) which had two cool play structures, plus swings and a duck pond. Aurora was quite happy to play there all day, but we were a little cold and quite hungry, so we headed north to Ladner for lunch.

Lately Aurora’s been developing a “camera smile”. Could you squinch that face up any more?

It was a bit of a crazy day, and to top it all off, we went out and got Aurora a bike and helmet in the afternoon. Check out how cute this is:

The latest thing in kiddie bikes these days is pedal-less “balance bikes”. They’re intended to teach kids to balance and steer on a bike without having to bother with pedals; they just glide along if they’re going fast enough. I’ve seen enough 3- and 4-year-olds zipping through the neighbourhood to know that they really do work. I was one of those scaredy-cat kids who didn’t learn how to ride a real bike without training wheels until I was ten (10!) years old, so anything I can do to help my daughter out is a good thing, I believe. Thanks again to Grandma and Grandpa for the bike. It’s pretty awesome, and the fact that it closely resembles Lizzie’s magic pink bike in Sue Heap’s Fabulous Fairy Feast doesn’t hurt, either.

Don’t it always seem to go, according to Joni Mitchell? This weekend Alex and Selena told us that they were planning to take Barrett to the Bloedel Conservatory at Queen Elizabeth Park, because the City Park Board has decided to close this Vancouver landmark in the near future. It’s not huge, but it sits like a jewel at the highest point in the city, and contains a wealth of interesting plant and animal life within its sunny dome.

So Saturday morning, possibly the loveliest day of the winter this year, we walked up the hill to visit the flora and fauna under the dome. The MossLams rode their bikes, and we showed the kids the wonders of the tropical world. The plants, especially the trees, were pretty interesting, but the parrots and macaws stole the show. Aurora was a little intimidated by the huge birds, but Barrett seemed to enjoy them a lot. Afterward, we trooped over to Solly’s Bagels for a little nosh, and a bike ride on a Skuut at Pacific Multisport around the corner.

So, if you’ve got some money kicking around, and you’re looking for a city landmark to save, please donate some to the Friends of the Bloedel Conservatory. They’re hoping to raise $250,000 by March 1st (which, when you consider the average home price in Vancouver, is really something of a steal). And, if you’re in Vancouver over the next couple of months, make a point of checking the place out, just in case they can’t make the quarter-million mark.

Now that we’re all back into the swing of things, post-holidays, back to our old routine, I find that I finally have some time to write another blog post or two. How ’bout belated Christmas photos? I’ve got a few.

First, the ritual hanging of the stocking on Grandma Shaun and Grandpa Bill’s fireplace on Christmas Eve.

Then Aurora got to set out cookies and milk for Santa. After reading Olivia Helps with Christmas she was super-excited about this part.

Then on Christmas morning Aurora woke up to a stocking full of really awesome treats from Santa, including stickers, doll clothes, jewelry, tiny books & her first jellybeans. The easel and art supplies from Mommy & Daddy were pretty cool, too, but “Ka-CHOW!!!” look what Santa gave her:

Cars movie GeoTrax! Now she goes around saying, “I am Lightning McQueen! I am Lightning McQueen!” I don’t feel at all guilty about giving in to the over-commercialized movie marketing industry branding blah-blah-blah. It’s totally Santa’s fault for giving her such a toy!

Okay, maybe a bit of an obscure reference there, but lately my conversations with my daughter have taken on the tone of a Surrealist, maybe even Dadaist, painting. Like this one, by Magritte:

“This is not my house!” “It is not light (in broad daylight)!” “You are not Mommy!” “You can’t say ‘no’!” and so on, and so on. She negates almost everything Daddy and I say, and a whole host of incontravertable facts about the world around her. About half the time I gently reassure her that yes, it is indeed so. The other half of the time I play along, i.e., “Okay, if we are not walking, what are we doing? Flying? Scuba-diving?”

I’m certain this is normal 2-year-old behaviour, but it does put me in mind of a Nova documentary I saw once, called Secrets of the Mind. In it, we were introduced to a man named David Silvera who, although he recognized his parents’ faces and voices, could not acknowledge that they were really his parents, because the part of his brain that governed his emotional attachment to things was not working right. It’s a very rare condition called the Capgras Delusion. He saw that they were identical, but since nothing clicked emotionally when he saw them, he thought they were imposters! “You are not my parents!”

So, in order to get through this phase of hyper-negativity, I’ll have to put the Talking Heads’ song, “Once in a Lifetime” on repeat-play in my head… “You may tell yourself, this is not my beautiful house!”