Hasta la vista, baby

Eric at the airport waiting for our flight to Houston...so we can wait for our flight to Cancun...so we can take a shuttle to Playa del Carmen...so we can drink mojitos on the beach!



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Terrifying glimpse into the future...

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Our little competitor...

We were having a conversation in a hot tub this afternoon, all five of us. We were talking about being competitive. It went like this:

Finny: "I am competitive, I know that for sure."

Eric: "That's true, Finny. You might be one of the most competitive people I have ever known." (This was after she insisted on hitting 200 (!) basketball shots in gym before going swimming...)

Molly: "I'm not competitive, am I?"

Both Eric and I shake our heads and Molly looks relieved.

Lesley: (I am a little shaken up to hear Eric say that about Finny, since...) "Well Finny, I will tell you who the most competitive person I know is...your dad!"

Without missing a beat, Finny says, "No way, I am more competitive than him."

Competing over being competitive...? Okay Finny, you win.

Me and dad at the Canucks game.


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How to play...

Lukey loves playing a game called "who am I?". He chooses an animal and I ask questions to try and figure out what it is. Or I choose an animal and he guesses lion over and over, regardless of the clues.

Here was our game tonight:

L: "Alright, I have one."
Me: "Great. Does your animal have two legs or four?"
L: "Hmmm. (whispering) Do giraffes have two legs or four legs, mummy?"
Me: "Four (I am whispering too)."
L: (loudly) "The answer is four."
Me: (inwardly laughing, outwardly playing it cool) "Does your animal have a long neck?"
L: "Why do you ask?"
M: "Lukey, is your animal a giraffe?"
L: (sincerely surprised and disappointed) "Darn, you got it!"


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Observe below a photo I took on the sly of the people sitting next to me at a coffee shop. They have one baby and easily half a dozen small Tupperware containers full of baby snacks. I have seen many parents like this...they seem to think their children will starve if more than twenty minutes passes without some nutritious crumb passing into their baby's stomach. Me...not so much. The baby from this picture had the many options brought on his behalf (which were thrust into his mouth with exclamations of "good boy, what a good boy..."), plus, the parents valiantly attempted to ply him with tiny spoonfuls of their own food. I don't believe I heard the parents address a single word to one another, save a few comments about what the kid was eating.
Good times.





While I have never (ever) been one to truck a small supermarket of snacks around with me, I remember well the days of babies and toddlers, messy tables and truncated conversation. Mostly, those days are behind us. With all of our kids at ages where the possibility of rational conversation exists, these crazy outings are a thing of the past. The kids are all fantastic companions when we are out, capable of providing terrific company.

Having said that, I enjoyed a rare treat today. Eric's mom has the kids, so I took my Saturday papers to the cafe and read for about two hours.





Doesn't that look civilized? All the more so when I compared myself to the people next to me.

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