Joseph played another hockey game this past weekend. The lesson:

If at first you don't succeed...

(nice head shot)

Try try again.

The Great Guessing Game

Once in a blue moon Becca and I will get a brief rest from the yelling and screaming (aka "playing") of the boys. Inevitably we will only hear the faint rumblings and crackles of Lego being swished around in their room. They build and build, like little boys should. However, there is always the dreaded follow up.


Joseph, coming out of his room: "Daddy, look what I built!"

Dad: "Wow! That's great!"

Joseph: "Do you like it?"

Dad: "Yes, it's very nice! I like the different colour lines!"

Joseph: "Do you know what it is?"

Dad: "Yeah. It's really nice too."

Joseph: "What is it?"

Dad: "Um... What did mom say it was?"

Joseph: "She hasn't seen it. What is it?"

Dad: "Um...

... it's a jumbo jet."

Joseph: "No!"

Dad: "I mean a part of a train."

Joseph: "No! It's a sandwich! How come you don't know that? See, here's the bread, some lettuce, cheese, and the red is the bacon. Don't you know that!?"

Dad: That's a great sandwich! I want to eat it! Go ask your mom what it is..."

You see, it's tough. But secretly I'm proud of him. I mean... a bacon sandwich... what could be better than that?

Fort Saskatchewan

Ever wonder what goes on in the minds of little children? I can't imagine. Hmm...

- - -

Hi, I'm Joseph. I'm five years old and I know lots of stuff. I also need to build things because then I will be just like my grandpa. But my mom and dad don't let me. They say I have to ask first.

So I asked my daddy if we could build a tree house together. He said he didn't think it would work. So I drew him a picture of it. There, how could this not work? I even drew all the materials we would need. Dad is pretty slow sometimes.

Dad said he didn't think my picture would work! So I thought it would be good to let him sleep on it. I asked him the next day. He said no. I asked him the next day. He said no. I asked him... (repeat 37x) the next day... He said MAYBE!!!

Good! So that means I'd better start building it. I asked John Paul to help me. He's a good helper. He does what I tell him to. But he's a little bit dumb. Here's a picture of him and me working. I'm a workerman. John Paul's trying to figure out how to put his helmet on.

So the next thing to do is to come up with an idea. Daddy says that we're not going to build a tree house, but a fort instead. Great! So I went out to build a fort! But daddy says we need logs from grandpa's farm first. I think daddy is just trying to not do it. Just like when mommy asks him to vacuum the house but he says he's busy.

Instead of waiting, I made a plan of the fort.

It's going to be pretty sweet. I wanted to start building with John Paul. So I asked dad again if we could start the fort. He said we needed logs. But John Paul and I can get some logs in our yard.

Daddy says we can't use those logs because their for fires. Mommy says we're in trouble because we're not supposed to have the ax and saw. Mommy says we can't have lots of stuff. Like daddy's drill. Daddy says we can't have lots of things, when mommy is around.

Well, on Sunday we went to grandpa's house! At grandpa's house John Paul and I helped daddy cut down trees in the yard! Even grandpa came out with his chainsaw! I think it looked something like this:

We then put them in grandpa's chick truck and later hauled them home in our van. I fell asleep on the way, but when I woke up everything was unloaded. Poor dad probably never worked so hard. Daddy said we couldn't build the fort until Wednesday.

The next day I asked dad if we could build the fort. He said it was Monday, and that he wouldn't until Wednesday. He then said it was raining and that he didn't want his tools to get wrecked. It rained all day! So when dad came home from school I asked him if we could build the fort now. He said no because it was Monday and that it was raining. Dad sure likes to repeat himself a lot. I think he forgets things a lot.

The next morning I asked dad if we could build the fort. He said no because it was Tuesday and it was raining. But he said we could build it tomorrow! So I asked dad when he got home from work if we could build the fort. He said tomorrow again. Oh well. I'll ask him later tonight...

It's WEDNESDAY!!! OH BOY! Daddy said he would be home right after school. I looked out the window as often as I could so that I wouldn't miss him coming home. After lunch I looked out a bunch more. And then... Daddy came home! He changed his clothes and got out his power tools and we started working! John Paul and I gave dad screws when he needed them, and told him where to put stuff. It was a pretty big deal. We were pretty tired doing it, but we didn't stop. I think it looked something like this:

Well we worked and worked and worked like crazy! Dad got a wood piece stuck in his hand, but he didn't stop! John Paul went pee a couple of times too. But after about fifteen minutes of the busiest work you ever saw, we were done! We sure were tired. Dad then took some of the left over logs and we had a fire and made hotdogs and roasted marshmallows! Wednesday was the best day ever! I like Wednesdays! Here is what our fort looks like!

Daddy took a couple pictures of us. So I guess here they are.

We have a door that goes up and down!

John Paul worked pretty good.

We built a spy hole in it so John Paul can see out of the fort. I'm tall so I don't need it. But.. just for fun... can you see me in the picture? Look carefully!

Dad brought a Saskatchewan flag out. So we call the fort: Fort Saskatchewan!

I can't wait for another Wednesday when we can build more!

- - -

"Ask, and you shall receive; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you"

- Luke 11:9.

Like father, like son

Like father, like son. Two of the finest to ever lace 'em up! Here we are in our rookie years.

Joseph On Ice

For years Joseph has envisioned jumping onto the ice like the Montreal Canadiens do. Crowd cheering. Coldplay's Fix You playing. A magnificent moment! Well, Joseph had his first hockey practice ever. That magnificent moment arrived. And I captured it on a little ipod camera. Enjoy!

Chequetember

The month of Chequetember has finally hit the Millette house. Our first experience of extra-curricular activities, and the money required to fund them. This is only our first child...

Oh well, he sure is proud of his new equipment!

Somebody is 5

Five years ago this night, the Friday of the September long-weekend, just 40 minutes or so before midnight in Ontario, Joseph came into this world pooping, peeing, and then screaming his lungs out. He put his Dad through a harrowing drive through rush-hour, long-weekend traffic on the 403 and QEW highways to the hospital and his Mom through some hours of crazy-painful labour and pushing to get him out.

He has forever changed our lives.

Today, we celebrated his fifth birthday: 

Blueberry pancakes for breakfast that he cut with his own knife (first time! and so exciting!). Little did I realize that after I gave him that knife, he now thinks he'll get one for all his food because he's so grown up!

An exciting story-card made by Daddy (the morning sun glowed on the pages, making the magic of it a reality as Daddy read)...

The Montreal Canadiens were in trouble with so many players injured by those dirty Red Wings (boy, was Grandpa Millette mad when he read that book). They needed help, badly. Gretzky? No, someone better. But who? 

Carey Price gets an idea: Joseph! He's been practicing. He can do the job. But Bettman says he's too young, only 4, and you have to be 5. No, Price corrects him, Joseph is turning 5! 

The Canadiens have a huge turnaround. They win the Cup. They're a dynasty! All thanks to Joseph.

A present from Mommy and Daddy

Is LEGO wrapping paper a dead giveaway?? Apparently, it doesn't take away from the excitement. An ambulance rescue plane. The rest of the day was spent building and playing with his new set. One of Joseph's recent achievements is successfully following LEGO instructions and building his own sets. To say he's pretty pumped about the whole thing is an understatement. This is a boy's dream birthday!

A nap. Yes, he had a nap. Mommy ordered it. It was needed and he came out refreshed and ready for more fun and more LEGO.

 

Out for supper at a restaurant.

A gift from Grandpa and Grandma Millette.

Grandpa told Joseph it was a great big Barbie doll. Haha! This boy knew better. An NHL, Gary Bettman approved set of hockey nets and mini-sticks. They spent the evening playing hockey and steaming up our house with their sweat. We even put the boys in the shower before bed they were so sticky.

 A birthday cake. It was a hockey-themed (read: Montreal Canadiens) birthday. Joseph is SO excited to register for hockey next week and shop for gear (never mind get on the the ice and actually play!). He keeps telling us, "I am SO excited! When can we buy my equipment?!"

You noticed John Paul looks terribly sad? He was. At Joseph's friend party the day before, in his excitement at seeing cupcakes and candles, John Paul blew them all out before "Happy Birthday" was finished. Not wanting to repeat the incident, Joseph held out one arm tonight keeping John Paul at a distance. All he wanted was a good look at the cake, but it was not to be. We have another picture of me trying to pick John Paul up for a better look, but he is mad and sad. We did end up relighting candles so he could have a go at them too. But the whole incident was pretty funny. They'll be good fighters when they play hockey.

Five! Joseph is passionate and fiery when defending his Canadiens, sweet when singing to his baby sister, bossy when directing and correcting his brother, cuddly and loving when he curls up for a book, sensitive when he's processing sadness and pain, and chatty and loud pretty much all the time. He's a great kid and we're so happy he came to change our lives forever. What more can I say?

The Boys Say Mass

 Becca's been sick the past few days. None of us have been feeling 100%. And the boys have been driving me nuts. Things had to change. Nothing like Mass said in your own living room to bring a breath of fresh air.

Joseph and John Paul decided to say Mass. They dutifully set up an altar, prepared bells and "holy things" (holy water, palms, rosaries, little icons). Joseph suited up in his chasuble (house coat). John Paul served.

A few pictures:

Consecration. Ad Orientem style. Well, liturgical east anyway. South in reality. John Paul rings the bells.

  Communion. Very reverent. He must learn it from me.

Both species, I guess. He must learn that from someone else.

 I'm slipping as a sacristan. I put way too many hosts on the paten. The boys take seriously GIRM 85: "It is most desirable that the faithful, just as the Priest himself is bound to do, receive the Lord's Body from hosts consecrated at the same Mass." So to avoid a large stash of hosts in the tabernacle, the boys stayed a while and consumed all of the hosts.


After the final blessing they processed out while singing Immaculate Mary. Joseph took his chalice et al. with him. He picks up on stuff from the Latin Mass.

 I think I'll have them do the same tomorrow. I'm sure it would fulfill our Sunday obligation. 

Swimming Lessons

Our little boy, who somehow or other has become our big boy, is in swimming lessons. Two-a-days. Here are a few ipod pictures.

The class went rafting

John Paul looks on with joy (and some jealousy) .

Mostly joy though.

 Joseph runs away from the teacher (at least I'm not sure why he was by himself playing).

John Paul hangs out with his feet in the hot tub.

The lessons have been a success. Joseph's fear of getting his head wet is slowly washing away.

Laundro-man

I walked into the living room after a little nap with John Paul on the weekend to find Joseph eager to tell me of his newest skill. 

"I folded all the laundry for you, Mom!"

And there it was, folded and sorted in neat little piles in a semi-circle on the rug.

Prior to this, we taught him how to match socks and fold little cloths or towels, but  he did neither regularly nor very well. And here he was folding a whole load of laundry, all by himself, all at his own whim!

I didn't refold anything (minus Dan's shirts and dressy pants), despite a few inside-out shirts. 

He was so proud: "Now  you don't have to fold laundry anymore, Mom!"

And so am I.

This little boy. He's not so little anymore and he's full of surprises. 

One day he'll laboriously design and colour cards and pictures for us, complete pages in his preschool books, and eagerly learn new letters from the alphabet; he'll read stories to John Paul, sort and clean up toys, and set the table for supper; he'll make his own bed, get himself dressed for the day, and wash his little brother up after breakfast. He takes such pride in his work and beams when he's praised.

Yet, the next day he can be a regular little nuisance. He's still a little boy and we're constantly reminding Joseph about playing safely, not beating up his brother, and not breaking down in tears if he doesn't get his way (of course, this usually means he's hungry and/or tired). 

It's exciting and scary to watch him grow up.

But when he goes and folds all the laundry... man, my heart just soars!

They Grow So Fast

It's important to sit back every now and then and soak up life with little children. They get old way too fast. Maybe someday I will look back at this blog and... laugh? About how clueless I was? Regardless, for the time being, in my relatively young and inexperienced time as a parent, here are some recent observations.

Children have an impeccable sense of timing. The other night Becca and I were absolutely drained and exhausted, so we went to bed shortly after 9pm. John Paul, on the other hand, decided instead to stay up for a few more hours in order to cry, scream, yell, run, and all in all cement his reputation as our second favourite son. The next night it was more of the same. Yelling. Screaming. Crying. Pushing buttons that we didn't know existed. Our only consolation was when he tipped over twice during the rosary and bumped his head. God was on our side, clearly.

Oh little children. They are a mystery. So much personality. So much energy. Everything is awesome. Everything is awful. And the next day they're always ready to do it all over again. I kind of respect that. Each and every day is a new day. I'll be at my wits end with John Paul one night, and the next morning he greets me like I'm the greatest thing in the world. Me?! A mystery indeed.

It's tough though. For instance, those family beads ain't what they used to be. Another evening of a failed rosary. John Paul kicked and cried, yelled and laughed. After two fruitless mysteries we decided to finish on our own. Now I remember we had a house cat when I was growing up named Buck (well, when I was living at home during my endless university days). Buck would only show up when we were praying the evening rosary. At first we thought he was a very holy and saintly cat. Why, he was even all black and white like a Dominican. But then we started calling him the devil instead. You see, he would come out during the rosary only to distract us. The devil indeed. We eventually ended up simply calling Buck the liberal Dominican. Now...back to John Paul... I'm not calling John Paul the devil. But... you know... the similarities... the distractions...

So we suspended the rosary. Clearly it was God's will that we didn't pray. Clearly. So we cut our losses for the time being. Immediately the boys invented a game. Joseph spread two blankets on the floor. They then ran back and forth onto each blanket, or "sleigh" as they called them, while making skiing noises. Pretty exciting. It was for them! Back and forth. Each time as equally fun as the last time. Smiles. Laughter. Why do parents take their kids to Disneyland when two blankets on the floor is just as good, if not better? After 15 minutes of non-stop running, and two very sweaty boys, we shut them down in order to put them to bed. We finished our rosaries on our own, in separate beds, next to our sweaty boys.

Yes, sometimes a family rosary becomes a lay with your kids while you put them to sleep rosary. It is a remarkable feeling lying there. Your child in your arms. The life that was so unstoppable, so energetic, just a few minutes prior. It slowly drifts into another world of sleep. And you're left finishing your last decade, with a boy who played probably two dozen or more different roles that day, yet ending the day simply as the little boy in his dad's arms. My little fireman, or knight, or fitness instructor, or hockey player, or skier, or whatever it is you were today and are now probably dreaming about. It is impossible to pray the rosary then and there without thinking about these boys. The fifth decade, Jesus dies on the cross... dying.. suffering.. our crosses... what will these boys' crosses be? Will they handle them as they should? Are we teaching them how to? Don't these roles as fireman, and knight, and so on teach them how? To overcome all challenges? To move on to the next thing? To be resilient? To enjoy life? All I know is that in the morning they will wake up and, with a smile, do it all over again. A new knight. An even better fitness coach. A new sleigh game that involves pillows, swords, weights, and hands covered in jam. It will be awesome. 

Yes it will.

Habemus Papam: The Cutest Pope Ever.

This past weekend was filled with trying to escape Halloween, and then celebrating the real Solemnity of All Saints. It all began with a crazy Friday (a crazy week, actually) at school. Kids somehow believe that Halloween means no working. So the majority of the day is a war with them. Finally, in the last hour they are permitted to have a Halloween party. Long story short, the day is simply horrible. I can't stand it.

So then Saturday, the real Halloween day, we decided to avoid the trick or treat crowd for the majority of the day by taking off to Prince Albert to shop. We arrived back home at around 6pm, thinking we'd have time to quietly get ready for Mass and, if the occasion arose, give out a bit of candy (we only had a very tiny amount available). As we pulled onto our street we were horrified to see a school bus park beside our house. Streams of kids came pouring out of the bus. Our house was to be inundated with trick or treaters! In a panic, we quickly decided to drive around for another 10 minutes until the threat subsided. The town was buzzing with kids. We eventually snuck into our house, locked ourselves in, and very quietly, with little light, got ready for Mass. Phew.

When we got home from Mass we worked on some saints costumes for the All Saints Day party hosted by Grandma in Nipawin.

Announcing... St. George!

Announcing... St. John Paul II!

Is he not the cutest little saint you ever saw!?! At the party the Filipinos could hardly keep their hands off of him. They kept picking him up and saying "Pope! Pope!" There was another little kid who kept following John Paul around and giving him random hugs. Beloved Saint John Paul II is as popular as ever.

Our only regret is that we didn't have little red shoes for him to wear.

Later that day we/me had a surprise DQ icecream cake to get a kick start on my birthday! I almost got to blow out my own candles too. Almost.

And today was, of course, my real birthday. Unfortunately the principal announced it over the intercom so I was serenaded to Happy Birthday by all my classes, as well as given birthday greetings probably a couple hundred times. Oh well. It's nice to be loved, I guess.

More importantly it's the feast of All Souls. We snuck out to the grave yard for prayers. Indeed, pray for the souls in purgatory. It could very well be you needing prayers someday! 

These Boys

Our boys. I tell ya, they are sweet.

I don't always think that way, though. In the middle of the night, when they will not hold still, snore through plugged noses, and keep their parents awake; when John Paul has to be touching me or lying on me just to stay sleeping; when we cancel a Saskatoon trip for three weekends in a row because they get sick with their own almost finished cold all over again.

But, truthfully, they are pretty sweet. 

At four, Joseph is a little independent man. He is able to do so much all by himself: get dressed, get ready to leave the house, buckle his own car-seat, help John Paul get a drink or read him a story. Of course, it doesn't always happen that way, but he takes pride in doing things for himself and for our family. 

He has started stirring the soup (or other meal pot) for me as I dump ingredients in. For a kid who normally isn't totally thrilled with the idea of the soup his mother forces on him multiple times a week, he is so proud of "his cooking" and regularly goes back for seconds. With supervision, he peels carrots, sets the table, and sometimes dry dishes. 

I'm a firm believer in making kids earn their keep from a young age. That, or "cultivating pride in their own independence." Makes my life easier in so many ways, if I can only make it all routine. 

Joseph is totally enamored with the idea of school. Rather, his idea of school. I don't think he truthfully realizes that real school work goes on over there, with intermittent recess breaks and phys ed classes. Blame the fact that his Dad is the phys ed and music teacher. 

For a while, he used to pretend that "his school" was out on our front lawn and he and his imaginary friends attended there each day. But now, we have real school. Complete with teacher Mommy and a spiffy little backpack. 

We've made ourselves rebels in this town by not putting Joseph in preschool. Seriously, I don't know what all the hype is about preschool... and kindergarten. Let kids be kids. No need to prepare them for "real" school with other school.

But Joseph loves to learn and so some days he packs up his backpack with crayons, preschool books, and other supplies and makes his way to the kitchen where he politely greets his teacher (me) and sits to "do homeschool." He insists on calling me Teacher and when he inadvertently calls me Mommy he corrects himself, "Oh, I mean teacher! You're not my mommy yet until I come home from school!" It's really quite delightful! 

And when we don't have time for "homeschool" or don't feel like it, well, we don't do it. Truth be told, most hours in the day are spent playing Lego. It's great!  

At 18 months, John Paul still nurses, still sleeps with his Mommy, is still a Mommy suck, and yet has a mind and will all his own. He is stubborn, oh so stubborn. When we got out new shoes for him when his old ones got too small, he put up a huge, crying stink. He wanted nothing to do with them. So for three weeks they sat in the entrance-way and he wore his old ones until his poor little toe-nails curled back and big bad Mommy forced the new ones on a crying boy. He puts up a stink when he's not allowed to wear his coat, or his coat and sweater (because, you know, it's too warm outside), or his favourite shirt. Like I said, I'm all for independence in kids, but really? I want to pick where you're independent, kid (yes, laugh at me, it's good for me!).

I walked into the living room yesterday to find John Paul alone, armed with two remotes, and lounging against the couch watching TV. "What are you doing?" I asked. "DADDY!" he replied.

John Paul has the most adorable habit right now, which I really must catch on video before it's gone, of nodding his head when he means "yes". Straight up and down, impish smile, chubby cheeks, it's just so cute. He was laughing in the bathroom when he heard Joseph and Daddy laugh today, so I asked him, "Is Daddy funny?" Vigorous nodding. "Is Joseph funny?" Half-hearted nod, then vigorous head shaking. When we told Joseph, he said, "But I am funny!"

Joseph has been asking about having a baby sister. "Mommy, you and Daddy should get married again so you can have another baby!" This is how it works, I suppose. We have seen a lot of little girls or baby girls in the past few weeks and Joseph is smitten. He got to hold our neighbour's baby and didn't want to let her go. Meanwhile, John Paul wasn't impressed when I held the baby and insists "baby" while pointing to himself. 

Yes, both my independent "babies," these two sweet boys.