Public chastising Toronto

A rough day of travel today was. Incredible to navigate and succeed, but we've arrived. Traveling with kids is demanding for sure, especially when you expect so much of them. The long travel days, changes to schedule, endless visiting and looming adult smiles coming close. They've both been remarkably adaptable to the late night craziness of most days. Eventually we all have breaking points though and ours are sitting close. 

From 8h-18h we travelled roads, rails, family breakfasts, return of scratched car rental, luggage woes sans baggage car (where luckily rail status came in helpful and stroked the wheels of sending our through luggage on a later train and completely to home to Winnipeg), finally boarding with still an excess of everything we needed in Trto. To be sitting next to a grouchy old dame who clearly did not want to be sitting with kids. Not a word was spoken, her loud sighs and eye rolls portraying all. Had to wait out thirty minutes before they would know if she could change seats so she immersed in her work, glancing up unhappily every few minutes. Well, I apologized when my son dropped his snacks on the ground near her feet, worked to contain him in seats and out of her way, though being nearly three he clearly was excited to stand and look out the window. I know it's not ideal to sit in a four seater with two kids and adults but with babies under one considered in arms... it can happen, and in the corridor it's not rare to fill a four seater with strangers. She couldn't have been more clearly unhappy that we were there. Finally, while Cruella chatted on the phone the service manager returned, spoke briefly to us and then turned to her "Madame?" Unnoticed she would return. When the news came and she hurried to collect things, she dropped her table onto Molly head's (totally without apology or utterance, though she looked alarmed) and criticized my french as I pointed out her forgotten jacket. What a devil we got rid of!

We made it through the rest of the ride, naps and meals and even seeing an old friend who happened to be on train as well. Struggled off train with a fair amount of bags again. 1/food 2/toys 3-5/personal bags 6-7/purses. Adds up! two kids, one on leash (which is a whole other story), getting on and off friday rushhour subway. Wheee!

Checking in and finally leaving bags behind, the last venture out would be grabbing takeout dinner and wine. Ordered sushi, stopped in for smoothies on Yonge, made it to LCBO, returned to fetch sushi and cross the street home. As we were twenty feet before the corner, Jude drops his smoothie. (When Aunty asks for a sip, he says "No, ME!"). The bottom of the Styrofoam cup rips clear and begins leaking the third of drink left. Both moms say "Oh no, it fell! No more, we can't take it with us" to calm any coming freakout and I pull him along. At this point I am juggling a baby and bottle of wine in one arm, holding Jude's hand with the other while Le handles the takeout and her purse. Neither of us consider trying to pick up the spilling cup with no available appendages and search out a garbage can with the kids, it's true. At the end of a lengthy day, steps from our end point, a divergence with the toddler and baby and bags and mess is just not going to happen. But of course, my mind is focused only on the end goal of getting all these kids and things to the hotel asap. 

A woman immediately passes and accosts us. 

You're not going to leave that there??

I would never set such a terrible example for my kids. That's garbage! That's dirty! You're just going to leave that there for someone else to clean up? 

Mouths agape but without space to say much, she looks us over to continue, expecting we are going to refer to our overflowing arms.

I raised two kids. And I would never set such a terrible example. You have room in your arms for wine! You're disgusting. 

It's funny because the altercation weighed on my mind during the evening. Knowing her intentions were trying to keep her neighbourhood clean (admirable) and encourage (?) cleanliness. But her methods of approaching the topic and aggressive chastising made me more likely to NOT pick up that mess. She wanted to wag her finger at us and make us feel like poor parents. Her tone would have never been taken with an older, better dressed version of us doing the exact same thing. She saw young mothers, dressed in hoodies and sneakers juggling babes and bags and formed judgments. You have room in your arms for wine! Disgusting.

Oh well. Hopefully we got the bitches out of the way yesterday. If not, I have to keep trying to be a good example for my child and respond with tact and respect. 

stretching legs and hearts in Montreal

I've been neglectful of updating on our lives, it's true. Life gets in the way of writing! Too much living to take the time for updates.

This trip to Montreal has been a ton of fun. Finally a few quiet moments when the sisters are out shopping St-Catherines and Jude fell into heavy sleep on the ride home, barely letting me carry his sleeping body into bed without waking up. But he stayed asleep, jean jacket and fully clothed, snuggled under blankets with his bear and full dreams.

The train chugged out Tuesday night, with family galore seeing us off at the station. Minutes before boarding I realized we'd forgotten Baby Bear and had no stuffies at all along for the trip. How awful! Two weeks away from home and his papa, without his bear along to cuddle and fix booboos. Mind calculating distances, I jumped in the car and raced home to grab him, happy we only live minutes from the station. Thank goodness! Grabbed the kids and a million bags and headed eastwards.

Another beautiful vacation rental, a gorgeous brownstone walkup in Atwater. Wood floors, lots of space for kids and friends, a huge enclosed balcony that looks out either side. It's the first time I've stayed outside of downtown or with family while visiting Mtrl and I LOVE it! Residential side by sides, a random mix of students, migrants, families living so close. It's lovely, we chat with neighbours across streets and balconies. Pricy condos sit next to graffitied lower income housing. It's a mix! Makes you realize how segregated we are in Winnipeg, both with distance of private housing and little reason to be in contact with neighbours. And socio-economically!! You would never find the utterly random mix of high/low class, incomes, backgrounds, etc within the same residential area in Winnipeg.

I am also driving in Montreal, EEeeee! Thank GOD I came with a GPS generously lent to us by friends because I would never attempt navigating and driving Montreal streets at once. GPS has been a lifesaver, knowing one-way streets and automatically recalculating routes once we diverge from the planned path (often!). I even ended up driving the autoroutes accidentally, with only myself and Jude in the car. My heart pounding as traffic poured around me, flying through tunnels and around curves, we both squealed as I did it and felt totally exhilarated. Parallel parking is for sure a necessary skill living in Montreal. Parking both side of the street, sorely testing my poor parallel parking skills. And being the only driver for our rented Jetta, I've had some stress but am doing it!!

More to come!

well well, hello valentines

The future is open, wide open, and who knows where it'll lead. I thought more about valentines day and love this year than in any other. Others when you are loved and held by someone you expect will be beside you for years. There is so much love to show - valentines to be made for children and friends, garlands of hearts and baking cookies to warm the house (and round the belly!). Thank goodness there are multiple feet through this house to keep the tin emptying.

We acquired a roommate, a university student who pads around the house in african kaftans. though we pass mostly during busy days, we stop to discuss cultural beliefs and dating, polygamy, ghosts and which farm most Caribbean and African winnipeg families buy their whole, bone in meat from. Yes our new household is unconventional but so far it is coming along. I can't wait to finish unpacking the final boxes. can't wait to get the final pieces of furniture to fill out this huge space. I can't wait for spring, these tantalizing glimpses of late afternoon sunlight filtering through the kitchen window reminds me of what summer nights will feel like, bbqing off the back steps growing herbs along patches of lit earth. We may have another roommate by then and the rotating cast of characters will hopefully only add to the interesting family quilt we are building. The other day I was reminded of couchsurfing and of finally having the space available to host travellers again. Maybe our friends close by will realize they are always welcome to knock on the door, come share a glass of wine or sparkling water and be always in our lives.

It is mid february and before I know it the trains will start chugging along again for me. two months before live shifts again. for now the shift is working easy work, pop soda's coffeehouse and never knowing what atmosphere I'll step into - folk afternoon music. confrontational slam poetry. wild queer dance party. family art day. The clientele is everyone, the atmosphere always welcoming. It's rare to want to hang out in your workplace when not required to be there. So far the work isn't ruining the enjoyment of it.

Some days are still roaring and busy, but others are freeing. This adjustment into "parttime" parenting is strange. though we live together still so we can all see each other as often as possible, it's not comfortable to spend all spare moments together. So I've decided to spend some days away from the home, filling hours with yoga and special friends, connecting with family alone without needing to rush around after my busy bean.

And he is doing well - nursery school is always exciting and such a small class size means he gets lots of close attention there too. He spends days following after his nanny, walking to safeway to explore and buy treats. We make crafts and he helps with cooking and cleaning. He is charming and squeals of "mama! MAMA!" with long arms flung around me, eyes flashing love, joy in the moment. He is growing bigger every day and he is absorbing the world, our interactions, making decisions about how things work or how things should work. So smart.

Check off another day

I guess i could be writing every day, tracking my up and down days. No, my up and down life! But without the time to process everything, I'm back to existing mainly in my head. Those perfectionist tendencies stopping the flow, waiting until I have an answer, a clear path, before speaking. I realize that I haven't been open in conversation for a long time. Only stepping in once I'm sure of what I have to say, refusing to be wrong and not trying anything unless I'm already good. What terrible traits to carry and (hopefully not) pass on. Perfect holds you to high standard but doesn't allow for effort if you don't reach the sky. And I've grown up holding that standard, vacillating only between high accomplishment and complete failure. 

There is no path here, existing in a dead house. The holding pattern keeps us here until moving day. Kept in an unnatural situation that carries a lot of stress! We are doing all we can to move through the days, step around each other and give space, make agreements about household life, avoid falling into old relationship patterns and anger. It's hard! Hard, definitely. It was expected to be and I have to continually remind myself of this. This is the hardest part. The days run the gamut of emotions that never include comfort or ease. 

BUT! the medications are working well at holding my mood. Certain things are actually coming together and when everything lines up well, my faith is buoyed up. And then when it lines up too perfectly, it helps to believe that all our decisions led to this moment. That even before we were decided events were aligning for this. 

And I count myself lucky for having special friends, those who continue to reach out and support me. Who don't mind listening to the angst rolling around in my head, no ground to spill it into. Who suggest outings, distractions and escapes. Who show up alcohol in hand. Who reach out to touch and hold me, considering the significant loss of touch I have in my life. We had been best friends, before. And things are just so constantly uncomfortable now, it's hard to have lost that.