Moving right along...

The summer's over... It may never have started in this region of Canada. Do two weeks of warmer weather constitute summer? Probably not. In any case, school starts tomorrow for some kids. It started yesterday for others. And a bunch get to wait until the traditional after Labour Day Tuesday to go back to class. And we all know here in Ontario that once school starts, that's pretty well the end of the good weather.

The 11 year old has her bags packed, her wardrobe ready and her new indoor shoes are broken in. She anxiously awaits the first day of school to find out who her new teacher is going to be. We've all got our fingers crossed.

The 13 year old is doing his best to ignore the fact that school starts soon. He sleeps until well past noon and hides behind his computer. His school shopping will take place tomorrow, after Simone and hubby receive, hopefully, a list of items necessary to the boy's portfolio.

At least the 3 year old gets to stay home and keep Simone company. And while we're on the subject of the 3 year old, let us remind Simone that it isn't a good idea to play chase with a three year old while he's carrying a sippy cup. He's liable to trip, fall and land his face onto the juice cup, thereby giving himself a stunner of a black eye.

Just saying.

Un oiseau s'envole...

On a beau se préparer à leur départ éventuel, le jour ou ils disent au revoir on a toujours le coeur serré. Enfin... Simone a le coeur serré...

Et oui, le garçon de 18 ans s'en va. Il part à l'université à Ottawa et lorsqu'il a dit au revoir à sa mère hier soir, elle avait non seulement le coeur serré mais aussi les larmes aux yeux. D'ailleurs il en a profité pour se moquer d'elle, le p'tit venimeux. Ce qui n'empêche qu'il va manquer à Simone. Plus d'appels tôt le matin parce qu'il aurait manqué l'autobus ou parce qu'il aurait besoin d'être reconduit à sa séance de rame. Ou encore parce qu'il est chez sa copine à l'autre bout de la ville et qu'il doit rentrer mais n'a plus d'argent pour l'autobus. Plus de questions le matin parce que tout un sac de biscuits aurait disparu pendant la nuit...

Simone pourrait dire que tout cela ne lui manquera pas mais ce serait un mensonge. Malgré tout, elle l'aime, son p'tit gars qui la dépasse de plus d'une tête...

Mock Sisters

They look alike and are two years apart. They've been friends forever, or at least since the time when they were both around to enjoy it. They love each other and spend tons of time together.

But boy do they bicker!

"The computer's not working."

"That's cuz you broke it."

"I did not break it. You touched it when I wanted to play and then it stopped working."

"It stopped working after that!"

On and on and one. As Simone's hubby puts it, "Verbal diarreah."

So yesterday, when the eight year old's mother was to pick her daughter up in a couple of hours, Simone thought she would take the two girls to an outdoor swimming pool in spite of the cooler temperatures of both the air and the water. They needed cooling off. Plus they both enjoy swimming.

The first ten minutes went well. Things started souring when the eight year old was "It" and failed to recall that the colour black did indeed belong in a box of crayons. This was very important information as it meant the difference between catching one's prey or standing there, with one's back turned to the prey, trying to shout out all the colours that inhabit crayon boxes.

Shortly after that, the 11 year old accidentally got kicked in the throat by the 8 year old. Drama ensued, whereby the 11 year old temporarily lost the ability to breathe properly. This problem resolved itself when Simone informed the girls that they had 15 minutes of swimming time left. Then a squabble sparked further fury as the 8 year old had lost the mask she was using to see underwater. The 11 year old refused to give up her mask. The 8 year old sulked on the deck while the 11 year old attempted to find the mask in the deep end where the 8 year old swore she'd dropped the mask.

"Two minutes left till we leave," said Simone.

The 11 year old pouted, upset at having spent all her swimming time searching for the 8 year old's mask. The 8 year old jumped into the pool and, seconds later, promptly found the mask in the shallow end.

"Time to go," announced Simone, secretly relieved that these "sisters" do not actually live together. Bad enough they were going home to the 13 year old who'd promised he'd spend the hour the girls were at the pool listing all the reasons why the 11 year old annoys him...

Trop fatiguéééééééeeeee

Hier soir, vers 18h, Simone s'apprêtait à aller promener le chien. Le Petit B, qui d'habitude ne remarque pas la sortie de sa mère, se précipita vers la porte d'entrée.

"Pou-ette!" annonça-t-il.

"Si tu veux sortir avec moi, il faut enfiler tes sandales," lui dit Simone. "Et je te préviens: pas de parc. Je sors promener le chien et en plus le souper sera prêt d'ici quelques minutes."

"Pou-ette," insista le Petit B.

"Bon, d'accord," marmonna Simone à contre-coeur. Simone aida Petit B à enfiler ses sandales puis elle sortit avec le chien qui avait une sérieuse envie de faire ses besoins. Eliot, le chien, tira si fort sur sa laisse que Simone faillit trébucher.

"Pou-ette!" protesta le Petit B.

"Phttt!" fit Simone. "Attend deux secondes que le chien ait fini ses besoins et nous irons chercher ta poussette dans le garage."

"Pou-ette," approuva le Petit B.

Une fois l'enfant installé dans sa poussette, Simone tenta à nouveau de démarrer. Manque de chance, un couple qui promenait leur chien se dirigeait vers eux. Simone tira la poussette vers le garage et mit les freins. Puis, elle dit au chien de s'asseoir. Bien sur, Eliot commença à aboyer. C'est plus fort que lui puisqu'il y avait un autre chien dans les parages. Eliot se mit à s'affoler, il voulait absolument dire bonjour. Le Petit B avait beau commander, "Maaaa-che!" Simone ne marchait pas.

Une fois l'autre chien passé, la caravane se remit à rouler. Le chien tirait de toutes ses forces parce que maintenant, il avait un gros besoin. La poussette, menée par Simone, roulait de droite à gauche sur le trottoir alors qu'elle essayait de controler le chien. Lorsque le chien s'accroupit finalement, le Petit B tenta de se faufiler sous la barrière qui le retenait dans sa poussette.

"Alors là, c'est le comble!" s'écria Simone. "Je ne pousse pas la poussette pour me faire tirer par le chien et chasser l'enfant. Tu restes dans la poussette, Petit B, et nous rentrons à la maison, Eliot."

"Ouaaaaaaaaaah!" se mit à pleurer l'enfant.

"Elle était plutôt courte, ta promenade," s'étonna le mari de Simone lors de leur retour.

Plutôt longue, oui...

The Zoo

It's not a big zoo but maybe that's what makes it perfect for toddlers. The animals are always visible, the walking minimal and there's a wonderful, fly-infested playground for those who don't mind squishing a few insects as they barrel down the slide.

The French playgroup organized an outing to this zoo and Simone asked Little B whether he'd like to go.

"Ah-mals," he said, which Simone took to mean that he did, in fact, want to go.

Simone got there at 9:30 because that's what the instructions said: "We'll be meeting in the parking lot at 9:30." She was the second one there. The first one there, the organizer, informed Simone that the group would not be going in until 10 am. Not precisely an auspicious start of the day, especially with an impatient toddler in tow.

Before entering the premises, Simone was handed a questionnaire to fill out as she walked through the zoo. The instructions said that in order to answer the questions in order, one would have to go right at every opportunity along the paths of the zoo. So that's what Simone did. Apparently nobody else in the group followed the instructions because she did not run into anybody she knew until snack time a couple of hours later.

In any case, Simone and Little B got stuck at the playground. Not because of the tempting playground equipment, though she did get on the teeter-totter with the little guy. Nope. Little B spotted the flamingoes and he was struck with the notion that he needed to, HAD to go into their pen. When Simone wouldn't lift him over the fence, he climbed a picnic table. It was too far. Then he pushed his stroller up to the fence but he still wasn't tall enough to make it over the fence.

Then he wanted to go home.

Sigh.

Toss the instructions.

Le tricycle

Le petit B est allé au magasin de jouets avec son papa et sa maman. Personne ne sait plus au juste pourquoi papa a voulu aller au magasin de jouets mais n'empêche qu'une demi-heure plus tard, ils sortaient avec un cube Rubik, une barre de chocolat choisie par le patron de 3 ans et un tricycle.

Et vlan. Du coup, le petit B veut aller au parc 3 fois par jour. Il ne grimpe pas sur son tricycle. Non, non, non! Il court vers le parc alors que Simone tente aussi bien que mal de le rattraper tout en poussant le tricycle. Mais une fois l'aventure au parc terminée, le petit B monte sur son tricycle et s'apprête à remonter chez lui - il y a une grande pente qui mène chez lui.

Le problème, c'est que le petit B ne sait pas du tout comment guider son tricycle. Ce n'est pas facile de manier le guidon d'un tricycle lorsqu'on a une bouteille de jus entre les bras. Et Simone, qui pousse derrière, a l'air des plus "niaiseuses" parce que le tricyle se plante d'abord à gauche du trottoir puis à droite du trottoir, histoire de donner l'impression que ou la mère ou le fils aurait ingurgité une substance illicite...

What are you doing to that dog?

Eliot the German Shepherd has a problem. He firmly believes that sighting another canine - or anything vaguely ressembling another canine - requires excessive tugging on his leash and unrestrained barking. He tugs toward and barks at strollers, wagons, dogs big and small and, most recently, a poor, innocent white and brown plastic horse on wheels left abandonned at a local park.

Simone has a different problem. After a fairly severe car collision a couple of years ago, she suffers from neck pain and headaches. Jerking movements, such as those engendered by a dog pulling madly on his leash, aggravate the pain.

On occasion, Simone has resorted to wrestling the dog into submission when a dog approaches. While this reduces the barking because Eliot cannot see the approaching beast, it increases the scratches on Simone's arms the moment Eliot realizes that this isn't just a play match and there's an actual four legged dog in the neighbourhood. So Simone found a new position that evens the playing field between Eliot and herself. The problem is that this new position makes it look as though the dog is in a sleeper hold.

"What are you doing to that dog?" one man challenged Simone angrily yesterday.

"I'm trying to..." Simone started to say but Eliot, having spied the woman and her dog approaching a close-by garbage pail to drop in a bag of doo-doo, barked up a storm. Simone turned herself and the dog around.

"You're choking that dog!" the man drew closer, his face twisted in anger.

Eliot barked at the man who took a step back.

"Control your dog," admonished the man, easing his way back without taking his eyes off the dog.

Oh, for crying out loud...