By Beck When I was young, I had very decided tastes in names: I liked them antique. I liked them flowery. I liked them long and rippling with syllables. Arabella! Cordelia! Sebastian! And then I got married and pregnant and found out that my husband expected to have some say in what our children would…
Category Archives: Beck
Magic
By Beck My Baby finished her last session of nursery school (or “library school”, as it’s called locally) this morning, and it was moderately bittersweet, as these things are. I held an ACTUAL baby while I was there – a little dark-haired boy, who looked at me somewhat dourly because I’d stepped on his hand…
As Long As I’m Living
By Beck My youngest child turned four this week, which feels kinda funny, really. And I found myself talking to my sister-in-law – who is expecting a baby this very summer! – on the phone and comforting her about her upcoming labour, which has me thinking back on babies and pregnancy and all that, of…
The Bear Went Over The Mountain
By Beck Where I live is very, very rocky – not mountains, really, but just giant outcroppings of rocks and hills – and the other day my kids were outside and I was occupying myself my cleaning up the detrius of winter (its coffee cups and chip bags) when I realized that not one of…
And Bingo Was His Name-O
By Beck The Baby has an Easter party to go to tomorrow. I’ve already made trays of bunny cupcakes, since I’m always on the snack list because a) she has celiac disease and b) because she’s my third kid and I’m pretty calm about making snacks for kid parties at this point. All of the…
On Not Remembering
By Beck I was busy making breakfasts and school lunches this mornings – and I HATE the time between 7 and 8 am on weekday mornings, really – and I overheard my oldest daughter telling my son how to make bannock. “You mix together flour, a bit of baking powder and water and some salt,” she…
Almost
By Beck It is almost springtime here – the snowbanks are beginning to recede, leaving in their wake dog poop and Tim Hortons cups and deep muddy puddles that The Baby has been instructed not to jump in. Kersplash! she jumps. And brown water splashes all over the legs of a middle-aged woman walking by….
Coffins
By Beck We went to a wake earlier this week, driving through freezing rain in the evening’s soggy darkness. We looked at my husband’s great-uncle, who was wearing his jacket from the business he ran with his children. “Dad” was embroidered on the jacket, which made me have to whip my head away, my eyes…
It’s Over, March.
By Beck It will be March Break in slightly over a week, which fills me with ominous foreboding. We have an unfortunate health history regarding March Break, and while I think it’s largely coincidence, another part of me believes pretty firmly that we have some sort of March Break Curse. Let’s see the proof! 1)…
Little Babies Everywhere
By Beck I held a friend’s newborn baby yesterday and The Baby hovered nearby, half sweet-hearted (gently stroking the baby’s ears and fingers), half jealous (getting a little TOO enthusiastic in her ear-and-finger stroking) and I was amused by how automatic it all was to me – the calm hand guiding The Baby, the feel…