DCP is on vacation beginning today, and I’m concerned how anything is going to be accomplished during work hours over the next two days. Currently, he’s next door for a play date while I try do get done whatever I can over the next couple of hours. It would make sense, of course, that I take this valuable monkey-free time to write the weekly update. I suppose there are those at work who might disagree, but IDGARA. I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.

While I add new acronyms to my daily speak, Jacques’ vocabulary continues to grow. His big thing recently is “Help!” He wants help with everything. I am just trying hard to append a “please” to his request. I’m pushing “please” and “thank you” as much as I can, although I have a hard time with “thank you” because we are a “merci” household. However, I don’t want to confuse the boy… any more than he is already.

Last weekend we did what we could to keep ourselves busy. We visited both Upper Canada Village and the Science and Technology Museum. I think Jacques loved them both for different reasons. At Upper Canada Village, he was able to run around like a maniac and nary a reprimand was given. At the museum, he got to push buttons to his heart’s content. By the time we got home on Sunday afternoon, the boy was pooped. Ordinarily we play heck trying to get him to take a nap, but he fell asleep IN MY LAP in about 30 seconds flat.

DCP says that Jacques’ screaming fits are really improved, although neither Jean nor I have received much of a reprieve. He still has moments of absolute joy and others where I want to wring his tiny little neck. Often these swings occur within moments of each other. I guess that’s how he manages to continue living and how I continue losing my hair.

**Update** Dina just called a little bit ago to tell me that Jacques ate like a cow at lunch and that he was now fast asleep on her couch listening to the soothing tones of some British dude narrate a show on HGTV. But, the funny part is that at one point this morning, Karah had been put in time out for some toddler offense, and she got up and started walking back to the play room. Jacques walked over, said “No!”, grabbed her hand and led her back to time out. I wonder where he gets that?

**Update #2** I can’t believe I forgot this story! Yesterday, we took the boy out for dinner which is not something we do often because he’s usually a jerk. We decided to try it out anyway. We didn’t go any place fancy, just a Chinese buffet. As we were getting ready to leave the house, Jacques asks me for something. I have no idea what he wants though. It’s not the usual “keys” or “juice” or “hat” or “soother.” I’m lost. I look at Jean like “What the hell does he want?” and Jean says “Do you want your baby?” Jacques emphatically replies “AHHHHHUH!”

The only problem with the baby is that he is nekkid. At one point it had a diaper and a blanket but I have no idea where they may be buried now. Thankfully, we managed to talk the boy into leaving the baby in the car while we went to the restaurant. As we were heading home, Jacques had the baby in his lap and was chatting with him. Then he turned the baby facing forward in his lap, rested his head on the baby’s and fell asleep. Absolute preciousness. But I have to find clothes for that baby because I swear Jacques was looking for the baby’s penis.

(And, for the record, he was very well behaved at the restaurant. So good, in fact, that he was rewarded with his first helping of Jello. He loved it.)

As I type, Jacques is up in his room throwing a gigantic temper tantrum. The door is closed, but I can hear the screams over the blaring television. Remind me again that I love him.

The terrible twos have reared their ugly head yet again, yelling, fit-throwing, screaming, crying. Oh boy. This boy is going to be the death of me.

Oh, he got a haircut this week and was the picture of an angel. I think I’ll hold on to that memory. And continue to sip on my whiskey.

This week’s update isn’t quite as lovey-dovey as the previous couple. Our streak of not wanting to mangle the boy has ended. I think it likely ended last Thursday evening, but I’m gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and say it happened on Friday. He’s become very cranky lately about personal space. Jacques has always been a kid who likes to keep a bit of a distance. However, the last week or so it’s gotten a zillion times worse.

Friday evening we were sitting out back with the neighbors as I tried to unwind after a day-long Photoshop seminar. My head was swimming from too much information to absorb. I was exhausted, and probably a touch cranky. But Jacques put me to shame. If Karah so much as looked in his general direction, he would start crying. Whining about his space being invaded… driving me bonkers. And this continued through most of the weekend. I can not stand whiny people. CAN NOT STAND.
So, the streak is broken, but I suppose every two year old is allowed a bad weekend. He still is happy as a clam and picking up more and more words every day. I even got him to say “One, two” this week. Normally all he’ll say is “two, two, two.” He says “here” and “there” (although here sounds more like ‘hair’) and is matching shapes and colors together. He’s definitely getting better at communicating, though there are many times a day when I’m still unsure of what he’s trying to say.

It’s Father’s day weekend so I want to go on record to say Happy Fathers Day to Jean. You’re the best father, a child at heart and I can’t imagine a better dad for my boys. You have mad skillz.

And to my daddy… you are a fantastic father, a loving and wonderful grandfather. I only wish that we were closer. Hey, anything’s possible. Fingers & toes are crossed.

And to Roy… you won’t read this, but maybe Mom will make you. Thank you for the love & support through the years. I wouldn’t be where I am today if not for you. Thank you.

And to all of you other fathers out there… have a wonderful, wonderful day.

First things first, how ’bout them Red Wings? After making me stay up until 130a on Monday night (or, Tuesday morning) and then losing in triple OT, they redeemed themselves last night. Yay! Another Stanley Cup victory for the Motor City. And my condolences to both Jean and Kelly-Kelly (and BFAW’s husband who shall remain nameless) who are die-hard Pens fans. Their year will come.

In un-hockey related news. I’d like to introduce you to the most lovely toddler I’ve ever reared. Okay, he’s the only one I’ve ever reared, but he’s been so incredibly wonderful the last two weeks. There hasn’t been a single episode which resulted in my wish to go back in time when I wasn’t a parent. He’s been sweet, kind, gentle and loving. Sure, he still has a moment of toddler-ness. Sure, he still calls himself “Cock.” But the little bugger has just been so pleasant. Now excuse me while I go knock on every wooden object I can find in my house.

Last weekend was Karah’s birthday party. Jacques was joined by another of Karah’s friends, Chloe. The three kiddos are very close in age and it was so much fun watching them play together. They got along so well, played nicely (for the most part, until I tried to take away the jack in the box from Jacques) and ran themselves ragged. To his father’s dismay, the boy even dressed up in a tutu that we gave Karah for the special day.

On Sunday, we went to the Experimental Farm to check out some farm animals. There were all kinds of lovelies, though I was partial to the cows. There is something about big, brown cow eyes that make my heart melt. I’ve posted a set of photos at Flickr.

This weekend I have Jacques all to myself as Jean and Francis travel to Montreal for the Formula 1 Canadian Grand Prix. Jacques and I might go to the neighbor’s cottage on Saturday if I can get my stuff together in time. I have some things that need to get done before relaxing, so here’s hoping I get my shiz done.

For now, I must go nibble on a toddler. He’s just so delicious!

I debated on whether or not to share this with the world since my grandmother occasionally reads my updates, but it’s just too golden not to share.

Last week, Jacques and I were chatting and I was encouraging him to say his name. “Can you say ‘Jacques’?” He turned his sweet, chubby face towards me and said “Cock!”

Aww, my beautiful baby boy. Wait! What did you just say?

Oy vey.

Oh, and don’t think you can pull anything over on your spouse with a 2 year old in the room. If either of us tries to play a joke or take the other’s last bite of ice cream, or last sip of water, Jacques instantly perks up and yells “Maman! NO! PAPA’S! Little bugger. I guess that will make all of us a bit more honest.

His vocabulary continues to amaze me. Yesterday he said “Ciao!” and he is learning to formulate sentences. He still has to repeat them several times before I understand what he’s saying, but that doesn’t deter him. I’m honestly concerned that once I start understanding what he says the boy won’t ever shut up. As we settled in to watch the first few minutes of the hockey game last night, Jacques sat down next to me and started jabbering away. Pure nonsense coming out of his mouth, but he was just so cute. He was chatting and giggling about what he was saying. How can you not laugh along with him?

And while I furiously pound on the wood desk where I sit to write this, I am here to say that I haven’t wanted to kill him once this week. He’s certainly had his moments of two year old behavior, fits for no reason and toddler fury. But, for the most part he settles down and changes his attitude after some discipline. One of these days he’ll learn that he’s not the boss of me. Probably around the same time he’ll have to start changing my diapers.

The weather this week has been so crappy. Monday was Victoria Day and I was looking forward to bike rides, walks and general outdoor goodness. However, Mother Nature had other ideas. Like torturing me with 3 boys (for these purposes, we’ll call Jean a boy) who are antsier than a criminal in church. Where on earth did that analogy come from?

Anyway in a rare sunny moment, one of Jacques’ BFF is the neighbor’s cat, Mufasa. Mufie likes to come over and sun himself on the deck and Jacques gets so excited I’m afraid he might wet himself. We have some pillows that we use on the cedar muskoka chairs and Jacques will grab one and lay down next to the cat and lovingly stroke and chat with him. Shortly after the photo at right was taken, Mufasa decided that he wanted to explore beyond Jacques’ invisible boundary line. The boy stood on the edge yelling “Kitty! No! Kitty!” pointing to his line. He worried over that cat for at least an hour, occasionally asking me “Kitty?” Finally the cat returned and peace was restored.

And you should see Jacques and Karah together. I watched Karah for a couple of hours last night and since there was a break in the clouds, I decided to strap them both in the wagon and walk to the grocery. As they got dressed, Jacques walked over to Karah and gave her a hug and a kiss. It’s those moments of tenderness that make me believe that he really is a sweet boy. But, I’m sure that as soon as I turned my back he tackled her. Because that’s how he rolls.

I haven’t sold him off to the highest bidder, nor have I packed him up and shipped him to Emily in France or to either of his willing sets of grandparents in Texas. I have been experiencing blog issues which make posting pictures difficult. I’m to the point where I am ready to scrap this whole thing. It’s getting far too tedious. So, a week late, here is the 108th weekly photo of Jacques.

It was the Canadian Tulip festival and while I got some lovely photos of tulips, I got very few cute ones of Jacques. He was uncooperative. Shocking, isn’t it?

This week’s photo will follow shortly.  I have work to get done first.

I’m just gonna put this out there.

Do you know someone in the market for a toddler? I might have a lead for you. He’s just over 2, portly, and full of sass. The current owners are willing to barter. He isn’t potty trained, but is happy to let you know when he’s pooped. That’s something, right? See the contact me page if you’re interested.

In Jacques news, um. Yeah. Jacques is a living, breathing toddler.

See above.

106

Have you ever had one of those days where your child is driving you bat shit crazy? They wake up on the wrong side of the bed and spend the rest of the day whining, yelling and throwing tantrums until you’re certain you will pull every single hair from your head?

Oh, no? Well, we had one of those days on Saturday. It ended with me in a heap on the floor near his crib crying, and begging the boy go to go sleep. If I had any ideas on how to sedate the boy without causing permanent damage, I would have done it.

Sunday, however, was a new day. He was all rainbows and unicorns traipsing through a dewy meadow. OK, maybe not. But his attitude was much improved and it seemed like a good day.

That was before we realized that Jean had left the sun roof open on Guy. Torrential downpour on Saturday night. Guy was unhappy.

I won’t go into details, but Guy has since recovered from a semi-serious ailment. Jean feels horrible about what he did and I’m enjoying the moments where I tease him endlessly. Yesterday we were out running errands after picking up the boy, and Jean opened the sun roof. I quickly closed it and reminded him that he was grounded from the privilege.

And since that horrible Saturday which turned into a somewhat unpleasant Sunday… the week has been remarkably good. I won’t complain about the weather (even though we had flurries yesterday) as it’s April (now May) in Canada and to think we’d have +20 through September was unreasonable.

Tuesday night Jacques was downright lovable again. So lovely, in fact, I briefly considered cloning him. However, an elephant never forgets and neither does a mom. (At least not in cases where there is bad behavior.)

This post has been very parenthetical; I digress.

Jacques’ love of books continues to grow. And his obsession with doggies, kitties and zambonies has not wained. Heaven forbid all 3 of those things end up in one place; I’m afraid his little heart might explode.

So, the boy lives another week. His parents live to see another gray hair. And so it goes.