Now throw your hands up in the air, And wave'em around like you just don't care

The world from way up high

Fun day today. We went to our favourite park. The ground is made of this spongy rubber stuff, perfect for those of us who still fall every so often. They have quite a selection of slides at this park and one of them in particular is really high with all kinds of twists and stuff. Olan and I conquered it. This is our self-portrait from the top, wind in our hair. Olan also figured out how to climb the stairs, the child has no fear, which is a little worrisome.



Then we went to his favourite toy store and played with the train table, which is Olan's case generally mean derailing every. single. car. on. the. tracks. He then decided to admire their selection of Halloween costumes and was particularly interested in the fairy wings when a 6-7ish girl swooped in to ask if Olan was a boy or a girl. When I told her he was a boy she declared that he couldn't play with the wings because they were for girls. She decided that she would use one of the magic wands on hand to turn him into a girl, not wanting him to lose out on the wings I suppose. So she twirled around, quite dramatically, and pronounced "you are now a GIRL" while whapping him over the head with the wand (which was luckily made of quite soft materials). She then declared that NOW he could play with the wings. Olan just stared at her, amazed at this creature. He quite forgot about the wings.

Tonight, my mom babysat while we went to catch a bit of the film festival. We were total design dorks and went and saw Helvetica. It was good, really funny in parts. I think that every designer in the city was there. Like some weird kind of reunion.

Countdown sadness

So this is the last week of maternity leave togetherness for Olan and I. He starts his daycare transition next week, which just means that he goes a little bit each day until he's there all day. So I'm sad. I want this week to be all fun but everything feels like a last time. We went to our last mom & baby yoga class today, which was sad. At the end of the class, Olan gave our instructor (who is one of the first loves of his life) this huuuuuge hug, and she got a little teary, and then I did too. It was like he knew it was the last one. When we started those classes, he was 6 weeks old and the youngest in the class. Today, he was the oldest. Time really does fly. Everyone tells you to hang on to each precious moment, and you try, but somehow they still escape you and fly away so bloody fast.

When we got home from class, he crashed out and I just held his heavy little body on top of mine before I transferred him into his crib. I just luxuriated in it. Here we were, in the middle of the day, together, his little ribs bumping against mine with every breath and the sweet swell of his hair in my nose. I laid there, listening to his little snurfling noises and fluffy little farts.