Three is hard. As my sister's friend Stacey recently noted on her fantastic blog (theworldaccordingtoizzy.blogspot.com), three brings with it a whole new set of challenges and a new level of exhaustion. But it has this amazing, glorious even, moments that outshine any aspect of childhood I have witnessed so far. Moments of pure kindness for strangers, amazing insights, hilarious sayings are all the territory of three.
However, my coolest parenthood moment so far happened tonight as I realized that three also brings with it a real child - not a baby or toddler - but a kid.
Logan helped me make dinner and while we made it we listened to music. But, the crowning moment came when I started to dance and he did to. We danced around the kitchen for several songs just enjoying the moment. In that moment I realized Logan was truly a part of the long-standing Rubis tradition of kitchen dancing during dinner prep. One great thing I get to pass along.
So, three, with all its difficulties may be the best yet...
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
God Bless you Grandpa George
My grandpa died suddenly in his sleep on Monday morning. Although we should all be so lucky as to live so long and be so loved, his loss was unexpected rendering us all a bit defenseless in the face of it.
But the grace of it is there as well. On Sunday night I though I had reached a new low as I struggled with being a single mother and the weight of that responsibility. My darling three year old can be a bit challenging and this weekend he put me through my paces by testing both my patience and my endurance. By Sunday evening I was ready to be finished and was considering joining the circus.
Then Monday morning came and the trivial nature of my worries was washed away by the simplest of truths. Time ends for all of us and it is the moments before death that define who we are as people.
So this week as a mother I chose to be defined by my love, the joyous nature of my exuberant and energetic son, and the knowledge that deep down I am never alone.
My grandpa was an amazing man. He lived through the great depression on a farm in Alberta and was in the Canadian air force during World War II. He became a master tradesman. He had eight children. He died only a day before celebrating his 65th wedding anniversary. He was a kind, gentle, and soft-spoken enigma in my childhood. But, I could count on him to be there in the rocking chair by the tv in the evening to engage with the rest of us. I knew that he could fix anything, as he continued to fix anything and everything that needed fixing in his own home well into his 80s. The vision of him grinning from ear to ear grease-stained in his work coveralls as he was coming in for lunch after putting something back together in the garage will linger in my memory forever. I hope there is little about our moments together that I forget.
Most importantly, I won't forget his deep and clear love for my grandma - something I only began to recognize as an adult. Little moments of unforgettable kindness that demonstrated that 65 years of marriage doesn't have to erase gentleness or love.
My grandpa gave my son his airforce medals. They reside in a canister in his room. Some day I will explain to my son the significance of owning this memorabilia from a great man. Not a perfect man. A great one.
If I am a good mother, I will raise my son to know the difference.
So, God Bless you Grandpa. Thank you for reminding me that even in our darkest and most difficult moments there is something bright on the horizon that we shouldn't overlook. I will love you forever and remember you always.
But the grace of it is there as well. On Sunday night I though I had reached a new low as I struggled with being a single mother and the weight of that responsibility. My darling three year old can be a bit challenging and this weekend he put me through my paces by testing both my patience and my endurance. By Sunday evening I was ready to be finished and was considering joining the circus.
Then Monday morning came and the trivial nature of my worries was washed away by the simplest of truths. Time ends for all of us and it is the moments before death that define who we are as people.
So this week as a mother I chose to be defined by my love, the joyous nature of my exuberant and energetic son, and the knowledge that deep down I am never alone.
My grandpa was an amazing man. He lived through the great depression on a farm in Alberta and was in the Canadian air force during World War II. He became a master tradesman. He had eight children. He died only a day before celebrating his 65th wedding anniversary. He was a kind, gentle, and soft-spoken enigma in my childhood. But, I could count on him to be there in the rocking chair by the tv in the evening to engage with the rest of us. I knew that he could fix anything, as he continued to fix anything and everything that needed fixing in his own home well into his 80s. The vision of him grinning from ear to ear grease-stained in his work coveralls as he was coming in for lunch after putting something back together in the garage will linger in my memory forever. I hope there is little about our moments together that I forget.
Most importantly, I won't forget his deep and clear love for my grandma - something I only began to recognize as an adult. Little moments of unforgettable kindness that demonstrated that 65 years of marriage doesn't have to erase gentleness or love.
My grandpa gave my son his airforce medals. They reside in a canister in his room. Some day I will explain to my son the significance of owning this memorabilia from a great man. Not a perfect man. A great one.
If I am a good mother, I will raise my son to know the difference.
So, God Bless you Grandpa. Thank you for reminding me that even in our darkest and most difficult moments there is something bright on the horizon that we shouldn't overlook. I will love you forever and remember you always.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Happy Third Birthday Logan!
Logan is three today! He had a great day. We started with an at home celebration including egss and cheese and oatmeal. Then he went to school and they had a party for him there. Then, he came home and Grandpa, Nana, and Uncle Garrett were here with dinner and loads of presents. We ate, had cake and opened gifts.
I cannot believe how fast these three years have gone. It seems like only yesterday he was turning one, then two, and barely even possible he is already three years old.
One...
Two...
Three!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Marathon training with a toddler
All phrases repeated incessantly for the duration of the mileage...
Miles 1-2: "mom, can we go for a short run?"
Miles 3-5: "Are we going to stop at the park?" "Did you see that bird/ squirrel/ boat/ bird/ biker?"
Miles 6-7: "This is not a short run mom!!" "CAN WE TURN AROUND NOW?"
Miles 8-10: "Are we done yet?" "I want to get out and walk"
Miles 10-12: "Do you have any more snacks?" "STOP!! I dropped my toy out of the stroller!" (on purpose yet again)
Miles 13-14: "Can we go faster?" "Are we done yet?" "I could walk, you know"
I am pretty sure that 14 miles (2:20) is Logan's stroller time limit :)
Miles 1-2: "mom, can we go for a short run?"
Miles 3-5: "Are we going to stop at the park?" "Did you see that bird/ squirrel/ boat/ bird/ biker?"
Miles 6-7: "This is not a short run mom!!" "CAN WE TURN AROUND NOW?"
Miles 8-10: "Are we done yet?" "I want to get out and walk"
Miles 10-12: "Do you have any more snacks?" "STOP!! I dropped my toy out of the stroller!" (on purpose yet again)
Miles 13-14: "Can we go faster?" "Are we done yet?" "I could walk, you know"
I am pretty sure that 14 miles (2:20) is Logan's stroller time limit :)
Easter!!
We had such a lovely and fantastic Easter in Bellingham with my parents. The Easter bunny came to visit and delivered lots of treats - bunny scissors, bunny rubber duckies, and delicious organic snacks. Then the first easter egg hunt was at their house early in the morning before Grandpa had to leave for Edmonton. 
The second easter egg hunt was after church up at Semiahmoo before we all had a lovely and perfect brunch. Destined to become an Easter tradition.
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