Father's Day.

On this third Sunday in June, here's to all the world's wonderful daddies.

Here's to the daddies-to-be who tie our winter boots when our growing baby bumps are getting in the way. Who rush out to buy a full box of Nanaimo bars because we are craving just a little taste of one. Who stand beside us wishing they could do something, anything, to keep us from hurting, and who hold our hands as we bring a perfect, pink baby into the world.

Here's to the daddies who love their babies from the moment they are born. Who look so very perfect lying on the couch with sleeping babes on their chests. Who get out of bed at the first sound of crying and bring hungry babies to their tired mamas for middle-of-the-night feedings. Who look more handsome than ever wearing teeny babies in stretchy wraps, nestled against their chests. Who change countless diapers, rock countless hours in the rocking chair, give countless baths, read countless stories.

Here's to daddies who throw their fearless babies high in the air. Who teach them how to climb. How to ride a bike. How to swing a baseball bat. How to skate. How to score a goal (and how to celebrate it). How to "mark your territory."

Here's to the daddies who take their kids on adventures, big and small. Who dance with them up and down the halls. Who toss them onto a bed full of pillows. Who make them laugh like no one else can.

Here's to the dad who hits you baseballs in the street every night after supper, no matter how tired he might be. Who drives you to all of your baseball games, or hockey games. Who runs into your favourite figure skater on the street and asks him to sign his business card because it's all he has on him and he knows how much you will love it. Who spends hours sitting next to you in bright blue seats, row G, on the aisle, watching countless baseball games, and instilling in you a love for the game that will last forever. Who puts together a beautiful photo book, full of memories and love, that he gives to you the night before your wedding. Who walks you down that big, long aisle, silent and strong.

Here's to the dads who work hard, every single day. Who would do anything to keep us safe and warm and happy. Who put our dreams ahead of their own. Or rather, whose families are their biggest dreams of all.

Here's to the dads who love their babies, and their babies' babies, every minute of every day. What would we do without you?

Happy Father's Day!

Fourteen Months With You.

Dear Caleb,

You are fourteen months old and all you want to do all day long is read books. Up until now, reading to you has typically involved getting through 1-2 pages of the book before you started frantically turning pages and slamming the book shut, moving onto more exciting things. But these days, you have become the cutest little bookworm we ever did see. You find a book, bring it over and hand it to me or daddy, and then reach your arms up and make a desperate little sound that seems to say "Read this to me nowww!" You snuggle right into our laps and sit there, focused and content, as we read you stories that have now become very familiar. Your favourite is probably "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" -- I think we may have broken the record for reading that book the most times in a single day. You also love "I Love You Through and Through" and any book that involves lifting flaps.

What else are you loving these days?
- Running. Because walking just wasn't exciting enough!
- Climbing onto things (and making your mama nervous).
- Being held by yours truly. We have a little separation anxiety thing going on, triggered by the fact that you just cut two new teeth (with more on the way, I think!)
- Using a fork while eating.
- Playing with your stuffed animals.
- Pushing buttons on the DVD player and cable box.
- Playing with remotes and phones.
- Being outside. Playing at the park. Chasing a ball around a field. Going for a ride in your wagon.
- The "How I Met Your Mother" theme song.
- The little cat on the mirror in the car.
- Undoing the velcro on your shoes or sandals.
- Dogs. You get so excited when we see one out for a walk.
- Watching your daddy walk down the street on his way home from the bus stop. So excited, every time!
- Dancing with your daddy, and having him toss you onto the bed.

It is spring time, and I find myself thinking back to last spring, when you were teeny and squishy, and your daddy was home with us for the whole summer. You spent a lot of time in my arms, in the stretchy wrap, or lying on a blanket outside in the shade. And my heart twinges for a second to remember those days, but then you are off running across the room and I am running to catch you before you reach the edge of the stairs. And I remember what a privilege it is to watch you learn and grow and run and play. Watching you explore and discover the world, unafraid and full of wonder -- it is amazing. You are growing into a little boy, and I am so happy to watch it happen.

Besides, you still give all kinds of hugs and kisses and cuddles. And, if you are tired enough, you will still sleep in my arms. You are much heavier now, and your long legs spill out onto the couch beside me, but you look little just the same.

Love you so much, skooker-badoo!

I Love This Team (Part II).

The last time I wrote about loving this team was in June 2007, after our beautiful and heartbreaking run to the Stanley Cup Finals. We came up short, but oh how proud those boys had made us!

After that, things fell apart a little bit. I'm not necessarily talking about their results on the ice, though it was that too. No, it was pieces of that team we loved so dearly leaving, one by one. Redden, Emery, Vermette, Schaefer, Volchenkov, Kelly, Heatley, Eaves, Fisher. I didn't recognize our team anymore. Head coaches were brought in and churned out. We went 'round and 'round in circles. I remember a moment when I declared that Bryan Murray was a terrible GM and had not made a single good move during his reign. Not true, of course, but I really couldn't see the forest through the trees.

And then, this season.

Well, backing up a bit, I think it really started last season. We saw these boys start to come together. We saw a legitimate playoff appearance for the first time in a long time. We saw a Kyle Turris Game 4 OT winner that made us believe. We were the Cardiac Kids, finding ways to come back and scrape out wins when it counted. We headed towards a Game 7 for the first time in the better part of a decade. We came up short, but it felt good to watch this team again.

And then a young hotshot named Erik Karlsson wins the Norris Trophy. We all knew he deserved it, but how many of us actually thought he would get it? In a league where reputation and politics count for a lot, I thought maybe the voters would think he was too young, it was too soon, and throw their votes to someone who had been around longer. It wouldn't have been the first time.

But, he won.

We had the Norris Trophy winner on our team. And, more than that, one of the best players in the entire league. This kid was going places, and hopefully so were we.

Then, this season. The second year of our supposed rebuild. Possibly Alfie's last season (please no!). We were forced to wait through an excruciatingly long lockout only to be pummeled by an excruciating string of injuries, most notably Jason Spezza and Erik Karlsson, both likely out for the whole season, and Craig Anderson, our almighty goaltender. Watching Karlsson go down at the hands (or, rather, blade) of Matt Cooke was heart-wrenching. Besides what it meant for this team, it was so sad to see him forced out of the season, unable to defend his Norris Trophy win and possibly do it all over again.

I remember after being shut out by Toronto the game after Karlsson was hurt, I turned to Tim and said: "Do you get the feeling that we might actually not win another game for the rest of the season?" I was kidding, of course, but the reality suddenly seemed grim.

But these boys -- well, they were pesky. Erik Condra coined the nickname on Twitter and it stuck. This was no longer the Senators team of 2006 -- a teamed stacked with raw talent and incredible offense, but always seemingly lacking the heart and guts that get you through times of adversity. This was no longer the team plagued by never-ending discussions about a "goaltending controversy" -- Andy was The One, (though Lehner and Bishop stood impressively tall during his absence). This was no longer the team that would beat you 11-4 but could not win a one-goal game to save their lives. No, this was something different entirely.

Watching this team play against Montreal in the first round was a thing of beauty. Have we ever been so collectively proud of our boys as we were after game three? Only to be followed by more game four magic courtesy of Kyle Turris. And I can guarantee that we have never, ever taken such pride in our head coach. The Paulrus -- he is something else.

We won a playoff round for the first time since 2007. And we won it handily. No one predicted this kind of success for this team before the season started, and most certainly not after all of the injuries we endured.

Then came the Penguins -- again. On paper, it's almost ridiculous how badly outmatched we were against these guys. But, we had hope. And we got to watch our team play in the second round of the playoffs for the first time in six years. And we got one heck of a brilliant game three effort and one of the best home playoff games in the team's history. With blood dripping from his face, OT hero Colin Greening joins an exclusive club with the likes of Kyle Turris, Matt Carkner, Daniel Alfredsson, Joe Corvo, Mike Fisher, Chris Phillips, Shaun van Allen, Wade Redden, Todd White, Alexei Yashin, and yes -- Bruce Gardiner. We will remember that game, that goal, and that name for many years to come. It sure was fun to watch.

We didn't win. Didn't come close, really. But we had (and have) plenty to cheer about.

This is a group of guys -- of kids, mostly -- who don't know what it means to give up. Who fight hard, right to the end, every game. Who come up with ugly and exciting and last-minute ways to win games. This is the team that made me really love this game again.

This is the team that my sweet 2.5-year-old boy watched before he went to bed, pumping his little fist in the air and yelling "Go Sens go! Al-fie! Al-fie! Al-fie!" This is the team that (for whatever reason) inspired him to put on a pair of sunglasses and call himself Silfverberg while playing basement hockey with his dad, chanting "Ooh ah Silfverberg!" I will never forget how he looked, nestled onto the couch next to his dad, his eyes getting heavy with sleep while they watched the game together. Or how genuinely excited he would get when either team scored a goal, yelling "Alfie scooooored!" His innocent excitement was contagious. This is a game, and it's a really fun, exciting, wonderful one.

Go Sens go!

p.s. Dear Alfie: One more year!

Ten Years With You.

Ten years. One whole decade. Ten years ago I was 18 and you were 20. I was a few weeks away from finishing up high school. You had just finished your second year of university. I wore a silly school uniform every single day. You had a pile of jet black hair on your head. Ten years ago we sat in your basement watching hockey (the best and most heartbreaking Sens playoff run up to that point) and you asked me to be your girlfriend. We probably laugh and cringe now at how cheesy that is, but it was the start of all of this. If you had asked me to sit down and write out what I hoped the next decade of my life would look like, I don't know if I could have painted a better picture. I never could have imagined that 10 years could hold so much laughter, silliness, adventure, love, and dreams come true.

What does ten years look like?
Six countries. Five provinces. Sixteen flights. Two trips to New York City. Dozens of road trips, big and small.

Dozens and dozens of Sens games. Two front row seats for one super amazing World Juniors game. One NHL Draft. One trip to the Stanley Cup Finals. Two airport homecomings. (One bearded man chasing down Wade Redden's car). Three playoff beards. Two Kyle Turris Game 4 OT winners. One engagement photoshoot at Scotiabank Place. One encounter with Daniel Alfredsson. One gas station run-in with Jason Spezza.

One prom. Three softball teams. Three ball hockey road trips. Four concerts. Four cottages. (One unfortunate Scrabble game. And one unfortunate ATV ride.) Four BW Christmas parties. Five Broadway shows (one actually on Broadway). Nine weddings.

One homeless man crashing the proposal. Thirteen months of wedding planning. One beautiful (sunny!) wedding day. Two countries and eight flights on our honeymoon. Two cups of hot cocoa from Brid Sheehy. Two run-ins with cows on the road. One hilarious stopover in a Paris airport. One giant cab ride rip-off. Four 2€ souvlaki wraps. Countless mini chocolate croissants. Two hundred and one uneven, white steps. One Mini Mapket.

Two houses. Two neighbourhoods. Two pregnancies. Sixteen hours of labour. Two perfect baby boys. Approximately 1 billion hours spent discussing baby names. Hundreds of diaper changes & baths & hours spent rocking tiny sleeping babes. One emergency outfit purchased at Baby Gap.

Four days in Paris. A million people crammed into Versailles on a rainy day. One picnic by the Eiffel tower. One little red Pelican hoodie worn for four straight days. Two weeks in Provence. Two trips to McDonald's. Zero fish dinners consumed.

A few grey hairs (mostly yours). A few pairs of shoes (mostly mine).

Three university degrees.

At least twenty jobs.

Three (four?) speeding tickets. One particularly expensive fender bender (sorry!).

One broken bone. (Well, two, technically.)

One year of dance lessons.

One heart box. Gifted twice.

Dozens of paninis in the market. 

Countless hours of Dexter, Weeds, and HIMYM marathons.

One perfected popcorn recipe.

And a million tiny memories that have filled ten whole years of our lives.

Ten years of loving you. The best husband, best father, best person I know.

Ten years with my very best friend.

Here's to the next decade, and the ones after that. xoxo

Thirteen Months With You.

Mr. Caleb Shay,

You are a darling. So happy, so clever, so sweet.

We kicked off this month with your first birthday party. It was a happy day filled with all things yellow and sunshine-y -- a perfect fit for you! You were surrounded by the people you love most, and you had so much fun opening gifts (a.k.a. playing with the tissue paper), digging right into your cake, and getting lots of love and attention from your family & friends, all there to celebrate one whole year with you. It was wonderful.

The very next weekend we celebrated Easter. I didn't really think you would take part in the egg hunt with your brother, but you surprised us all by finding eggs like a pro -- even opening up your brother's big truck to find a special egg hidden inside. Smarty pants! Next year the Easter Bunny will have to come up with some really hard hiding spots, I think.

One month ago you were walking, but now you are really getting around, and getting faster and steadier everyday. I am amazed at how fast those little legs can move! These early weeks of walking are my favourite -- you are still not always 100% steady, and you kind of toddle side to side, looking a bit like a cowboy who has just gotten off his horse after a long ride. So, so cute.

I am happy to report that spring has finally arrived, and you couldn't be happier about it. You are positively fascinated by the world and now that you are free to discover it without the trappings of great big snowsuits and boots and mittens, you are in awe. There is no cuter sight in the whole wide world than you toddling along on your chubby little legs, stopping to point at something that catches your eye (a flag, a rock, a stick). You squat right down to the ground; your eyes fill with wonder and you say "Oohh!" And your enthusiasm is contagious. I find myself marveling at how beautiful and amazing the world can be when you are discovering it for the first time.

We were downtown for supper the other day, and you walked the whole way from the back of the Art Gallery to the car (a very long way for tiny little legs!). You did not want to be picked up and carried. There was just too much to see and too much to discover on your own. You were pointing and squatting and toddling and falling and getting back up again, all with a big smile on your face. Your cheeks were rosy. The setting sun was casting a golden glow on your face, and I just couldn't quite believe how much I love you. These little adventures -- they are magical. I'm so happy to watch you learn and grow.

What else to say about this month?

Well, at 13 months old, you like to:
- Wave and say "hi"
- Blow kisses
- Dance (I cannot handle the cuteness that is your little wiggling body rocking back and forth!)
- Look at books/read stories
- Play in the sand at the park
- Go down the slide all by yourself
- Eat. And eat and eat and eat.
- Play patty cake (Your favourite parts are "roll it" and "mark it with a 'C'" -- you do them both!)
- Say "uh.... oh!" when you drop something
- Share your food with me at suppertime (by putting it right in my mouth)

It has been such a fun month, sweet boy, and I promise that there are many more fun springtime adventures to come! I can't wait to show you more of this big, wide world. I'll teach you about the things we do and see along the way. And, without even trying, you'll teach me more than you could ever know.

So much love. xoxo

Four Easters.

Easter 2010.
I'm wearing a cream skirt and ruffly blue blouse. We go to church that morning and I nearly faint. Not sure why. (Maybe those royal blue heels I'm wearing while nearly five months pregnant?) Tim buys me a muffin afterwards and I feel much better. By late afternoon, as I stand in front of a mirror and lift my blouse, I can see the beginnings of a real, honest-to-goodness baby bump. Spring is here. Life is growing. And it all stretches out before me, dreamy and untouched.

Easter 2011.
A darling boy with dark hair and dark eyes wakes up to his very first Easter basket, white with blue polka-dotted fabric, filled with a tag blankie, board book, bubbles and balls. He is dressed in a plaid shirt and blue sweater, and we spend the afternoon on my parents' back deck. The sun beats down. My nylons come off. It feels like summer, not spring. We find a tiny Mets hat to put on baby's head -- it used to belong to my brother. Baby sits in the exersaucer and smiles, revealing his tiny bottom teeth. The sky is bright pink that night. The world is beautiful.

Easter 2012.
A darling boy with dark hair and dark eyes wakes up to his very first Easter egg hunt. He wears blue fleece pyjamas and blue bunny ears while he scuttles around the family room, collecting bright plastic eggs and placing them in his basket. He doesn't yet know the treats that are hiding inside. That darling boy is now a big brother. A two-week-old baby lies asleep on the couch while all of the excitement plays out around him. Later he is dressed in a grey-and-white striped sleeper and a baby blue hat with bunny ears. His big brother wears a green checkered shirt and khakis, and green argyle socks. We pose for a photo, our family of four. I hold two precious boys on my lap and marvel at how beautiful life can be.

Easter 2013.
Two darling boys -- one dark-haired, one blonde, wake up to an Easter egg hunt. Older brother gathers eggs with purpose, filling his basket and stopping to stuff as many jelly beans as possible into his mouth. Younger brother surprises us all by discovering eggs hidden inside his brother's beloved trucks. One runs around the house; the other toddles on wobbly little legs. Later that day they are both dressed in handsome Easter outfits complete with sweater vests. They spend the day surrounded by family and chocolate and laughter. Older brother hops about singing "Peter Cottontail." Younger brother falls asleep in Grandma's arms, his arms stretched above his head. The snow is finally melting. Spring is finally on its way. And I have two beautiful boys, walking and chattering and making my heart swell.

Four Easters. I remember these bits and pieces from them all -- from a tiny little life quietly growing inside me to two busy boys filling my days with noise and happiness. I wish I could slow it down. Cling to each of these days for a little bit longer. Cradle that baby bump. Kiss those chubby baby cheeks. Hold that warm, tiny newborn against my chest. Re-live that morning with two excited boys hunting down plastic eggs, so innocent and full of wonder, unabashedly believing in magic. Making every holiday (and every day) so wondrous. It's a pair of bunny ears. A woven basket. Shiny eggs filled with jelly beans and Goldfish crackers. An Easter song. And they soak it all up, amazed by the simplest of pleasures. Why can't it always be so?

It goes by too fast -- the refrain of my life. It goes by too fast and I can't make it stop. And so there is the grand, ultimate truth about motherhood: It is heartbreakingly bittersweet.

But then I remember: the only reason it breaks your heart is because it is so, so good. And I will take all of the bitter to get a tiny taste of that sweet.

And today -- well, today I feel nothing but blessed. 

Happy Easter. Happy Spring.

You are my sunshine.

I started thinking about Caleb's first birthday party several months before he actually turned one. I can't help it. I love parties. I love projects. I love any excuse to get artsy and crafty. And nothing helps soften the blow of him growing up and turning - gasp! - one than the thought of planning and hosting a super fun and happy party to celebrate one whole year of this very darling boy.

Since the beginning of his precious little life, Caleb has been a happy boy. A content and easy-going newborn, we rarely heard him cry. And once he learned to smile -- well, there was no stopping him. He lights up the room with his grins and his belly laughs, and he makes us all smile every single day. So what better theme for his party than "You are my sunshine"? Because that's exactly what he is.

Besides, his birthday is the day after the first day of Spring, and there is nothing I crave more at this time of year than sunshine and happy colours.

I dove right in, crafting a ribbon backdrop, pinwheels, photo banner, chevron bunting, and framed sunshine printables (designed by some other very talented ladies) -- all in shades of yellow with pops of orange and blue. Photos from Caleb's birthday photo shoot, a yellow tablecloth, and a yellow balloon banner completed the decor.

For the menu, I tried to stick with things that were yellow or orange, or that somehow reminded me of sunshine: mini mac and cheese bites, mini egg rolls, deviled eggs, popcorn (in cones!), orange and yellow peppers with dip, chips and corn salsa, fruit platter (pineapple, mango, cantaloupe), cheese and mini croissants. We also served lemonade in mason jars with yellow and white striped straws. (Oh how I love those small, simple details!)

I made a special cake for Caleb, iced with buttercream in a yellow ombre pattern. I topped it with pinwheels and a big number "1." The other guests were treated to cherry cheesecake cupcakes topped with yellow icing and sunshine cookie pops. Super adorable and delicious!

My darling Caleb had a smile on his face all afternoon, surrounded by the people who love him most. He opened presents (sort of), scrunching up paper and waving tissue in the air. He checked out all of his new toys and clothes and books. He showed off his new walking skills. He blew out his candle (seriously!) and dove right into his cake. He was showered with love.

I loved this day. I loved seeing my happy boy, and watching our family and friends celebrate one whole year of his precious life. He is very much our sunshine, and this was the perfect party for him: cheerful, fun, sweet, and full of love.

Happy birthday, Caleb Shay! You make us happy when skies are grey. xo