The Visitors

Once again, my morning started at 6am, but I definitely looked at my watch at 4:45am. 

I got dressed and went out to the living room to find Connor sitting on the couch, in the dark, playing Switch. I might have snapped a little bit too harshly and sent him back to bed. Checking in on the Switch, the battery was only down 4%, so he couldn't have been there long. As soon as the kids I was caring for arrived, I went in and got Connor up to let him play. But not on the Switch. We have a strict "No screens" policy while friends are visiting. 

Once Ada got up, plans got into gear. 

A little before 8am, someone knocked on the door.

You see, dear Reader, Claire’s parents flew in from Ireland last night, arriving after the kids bedtime. They went straight to their accommodation, and crashed hard. However, jet lag is a cruel master, and they were up early, waiting for a text. 

Connor ran to answer it, as he loves to do. He checked the window to see who was there, and shouted "What are you doing here?!?!" The last time they visited was for his second birthday, two years ago. He's only ever known them through Skype.

Ada jumped up from her breakfast and hugged Nana. It was really nice to see that neither kid had even a bit of shyness around their grandparents, even after this isolated time. 

Technology. 

Amazing. 

For The Joy Of Books

We’ve been reading books every night to Ada since she was a toddler. She’s always loved books. That means, of course, that we’ve been reading books to Connor practically since he was born, and he loves it too. 

Every night we read at least two books, one that each kid picks, but often we read more. Some of the current popular picks are Hugs and Smelly Socks by Robert Munsch, while A Visitor For Bear by Bonnie Becker has been Connor’s favourite for a while now. Personally, I love the book Ada Twist, Scientist, by Andrea Beaty. 

Claire has been reading chapter books to Ada, broken up over several nights, starting with Fantastic Mr. Fox and Matilda by Roald Dahl, and currently they’re working through Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin, Claire’s favourite book. 

But, since starting school, Ada has been bringing home lots more books to read from both the school library and the class teachers collection. While the books we have to home are all a little much for her to read, school have really simple books for her to start practicing her own reading skills. 

And that’s how, a few weeks ago, Ada read a book to me for the first time. It was so momentous that I marked it in my calendar for posterity. 

Books have always been special to both Claire and I, so it’s really great that we can pass that joy on to our kids, while sharing a special time every evening where all screens, music and distractions are put away, and it’s just us, some books, and a host of magical characters. 

Resistance Is Foremost

Ada hates new things. 

Actually, no. She loves discovery and learning and exploring, but in her own time. She hates being rushed into new things. 

Less so in recent months, but in the past, if she got new clothes, we honestly had to leave them on the floor in her room for a few days before she'd be willing to wear them. Grandparents would send the most beautiful new clothes and she'd be delighted to open the package and ooh and ahh at them, but it would take her a few days to become acclimated to them. And then she'd ask to wear it non-stop for a month.

When she was learning to ride her bike this summer without training wheels no amount of bribery or threats would get her to try, so, despite her protests, I just brought her bike to the park whenever we went. I didn't ask her to ride it. I didn't even discuss it. I knew there was no point in trying to talk her into it. The more pressure she feels, the less she wants to do a thing. 

So I just left it lying in the grass. 

Then, after a few days of this, she got up on it, and with me holding it for just a few runs up and down the path, she was off. By just the second day of practicing, she was going by herself, and by the third day, she could get started without help. 

Given the right fulcrum, Ada could move the world. Just pray you don't need her to do it today. Maybe by next weekend, if the tools can be left out on the floor for a bit. 

Circles And Art

I love drawing. I’ve been drawing comics since I was a kid. I remember filling up copy books with long stories featuring characters from the shows I was watching wihle at school. As an adult, I’ve drawn short strips featuring animals that were causing a disturbance for our neighbours!

Ada loves drawing too. She started with circles and faces, just eyes and mouths, then hair and ears. But her art has grown more and more detailed over the last year. At five years old, she now draws recognisable characters, and tells stories in her art. Her real life friends appear in her drawings, and she does entire scenes, with buildings and backgrounds, skies and rainbows. Lots of rainbows. 

She’s very detail orientated, seemingly adding new skills to her repertiore on a weekly basis. She draws lips and eyebrows, clouds and petals. Most amusingly, all houses have chimneys and smoke, despite our home actually not having one. 

We post her stuff on the fridge, and it gets added to over time, until eventually there’s too much paper for the magnets to hold. That’s when I love going through them and seeing the clear timeline of progression over the previous months, like peeling back layers at an archaeological dig. 

I love seeing Ada draw, and love to draw with her. I try not to do it too often though, as she tends to just ask me to draw things for her to colour. I rather see her draw herself. 

Just a few months ago Connor was deliberately drawing a page full of circles, his first fridge art. In the last week or so he’s started adding eyes and a mouth. I can’t wait to see the stories he’ll tell too. 

Laying Tracks And Building Railhouses

I broke out my inner Adam Savage with the kids today. 

Thanks to rising numbers of cases of CoVID-19 here in BC, we've been asked to limit our interactions with people outside our immediate family for two weeks. This includes limiting time at playgrounds, so, once again, we're stuck mostly at home. 

My kids are taking these strange times wonderfully. They love spending time drawing, playing with their toys, reading books. But they also love playing with their friends, and they miss being outdoors. Normally a day rarely passes without some time at a playground, regardless of weather. 

Being home a lot more than usual, I've been trying to distract them with a variety of activities. Today's was the train set. We have plenty of track to build unique layouts and I really enjoy building them for the kids. 

But today I wanted to make it extra special, so I broke out the cardboard from the recycling bin, a scissors, tape and ruler and cut out some buildings for the tracks. The kids loved them. They're very basic and simple, and the cuts are less than straight, with no effort to hide the tape, but they bring joy. I liked making them, and I think tomorrow I'll try making a few more, maybe a bit more complex than a simple box. 

My Nightly Ritual

There's lots I love about being a dad. I could discuss my kids love of drawing, their imaginative play, their humanity and innate politeness, their joy, happiness and love of life. I could talk about playing board games with them, or watching them both learn how to use the iPad with little or no assistance. I could tell you the numerous times my son has turned to my daughter for help figuring something out and how she's responded by teaching him what she can. And maybe some time I will elaborate on those. 

But for now, I'm going to talk about my favourite time of every day with them. 

Bed time. 

No, not because they go to sleep and I get a few minutes of peace and quiet... Though now that I think of it... Mostly not that.

Our kids go to sleep by themselves. We help brush their teeth, and read them a few story books, then kiss them good night and leave. They like to read books in bed themselves, so we leave their bedside night lights on. 

And those lights are directly connected to my favourite thing. Just before I go to bed, every night without fail, I go into the kids bedroom to turn off the night lights. At that point I get to whisper "Good night. I love you" to each of them, and quietly tuck them in if needed. I get to see the strange and hilarious way they've fallen asleep, sometimes twisted around some odd way, often with a book lying across their face. 

It's the last thing I do every night. I'm tired, I'm sore, maybe I've had a bad day. Maybe the world is horrible. But every night, before I lay down and close my eyes I secretly tell my kids I love them. They never know. Some day I’ll tell them. 

Kids? Amirite??

I’ve wanted to be a dad since before I knew what that meant. I grew up in Ireland, the eldest in a family of four kids. Many of my cousins have four kids in their families. And then I fell in forever love with an amazing person who has three other siblings. Basically, I’d been conditioned to believe that four was the perfect number of kids in a family. 

Then I moved to Vancouver. 

Then I became a dad. 

I mean, a lot of other stuff happened too, but that’s not relevant to this story. 

Honestly, it could have ended there. One was enough. My life was full and complete.

Then I became a dad again. 

And that’s where it does end. For now. As much as I love kids, two of our own is enough. That’s how many we can fit in our car.  Kids are expensive here in Vancouver. And while they don’t exactly steal your free time, they do trade it in for unconditional love. It’s a good trade.

More to come.