This isn't a book review per se, more a you should read this story just 'cause kind of thing. But I will give some detail around it.
First off, the Beardian are a child friendly group even if they do suffer through some unfortunate mishaps.
They are a group of folk who, not surprisingly, live in the city of Beard on the land of Human. Part one kind of sets the scene for what life is like for the Beardians.
The stories not too long but I warn you that it will become addictive. This is the first of the Beard series. Beard is a very real place as are the Beardians. The Beardians are a group of creatures who believed themselves to be isolated to the city of Beard as part of the world of Human. Their story begins as one of the Beardians wishes he had been one of the few of his kind who had escaped to Knee.
And if you're an illustrator, let me know, I'd love to work with you on turning this into more than text.
Without further adieu...The Beardians.
Tuesday
There's no trouble a child can't find
Every day it gets harder to look after Leah. One day you're thinking oh my god she can commando along the floor and topple tables on top of herself, there's no way looking after this kid could get more difficult.
Then the next day she starts crawling on hands and knees and throws all her toys all about the room and threatening to smash her head on every solid piece of furniture we have in our house.
So at this point we are just assuming that every day will be the new hardest day and that Leah will get into trouble we didn't think was possible.
"Mike, did you put Leah in the sump whole?"
"No, why?"
"'Cause she's swimming laps in it right now."
"You're kidding."
"Nope, looks like she stole my glasses and a straw, McGyvered them into scuba gear and went for a swim."
"Oh god, while we were talking she built a damn in the hole. Looks like the toilets are backing up. How did she learn to build a damn."
"She must have found my Beaver: the noble Canadian animal book I keep in the den."
This would have seemed outlandish to me a few months ago but I now realize the biggest mistake you can make as a parent is to assume there are certain types of trouble a child of any age would be unable to get into.
Note the sly smile
Then the next day she starts crawling on hands and knees and throws all her toys all about the room and threatening to smash her head on every solid piece of furniture we have in our house.
So at this point we are just assuming that every day will be the new hardest day and that Leah will get into trouble we didn't think was possible.
"Mike, did you put Leah in the sump whole?"
"No, why?"
"'Cause she's swimming laps in it right now."
"You're kidding."
"Nope, looks like she stole my glasses and a straw, McGyvered them into scuba gear and went for a swim."
"Oh god, while we were talking she built a damn in the hole. Looks like the toilets are backing up. How did she learn to build a damn."
"She must have found my Beaver: the noble Canadian animal book I keep in the den."
This would have seemed outlandish to me a few months ago but I now realize the biggest mistake you can make as a parent is to assume there are certain types of trouble a child of any age would be unable to get into.
Monday
When things 'you just don't expect' happen
'Our cat, Kit Kat was more than 17 years old. The thing about having a cat live that long is that you expect them to go on living forever. They've made it this far so maybe they're some new breed of cat that live as long as humans.
Sadly for us, this weekend we discovered Kit Kat wasn't a new breed of cat as she passed calmly into the world of all you can play with cigar shaped poo logs.
But to the very end she was anything but a normal cat. She clawed at imaginary bugs on closet doors (or what I imagined to be imaginary bugs). She played with the aforementioned poo logs and nothing else. She let Leah pull at her whiskers. She slept on bath mats. She couldn't resist curling up in a curling bag no matter how full of curling gear it was.
Having lived for more than 17 years she saw a lot of things. Most impressively, she survived being a childhood cat of two high energy children. First Andrea, who likely dressed her up as Barbie (this has now been confirmed as true), and then Leah, who for nine months, stopped whatever she was doing when she heard the yowl of Kitty.
She had many different nicknames, none of which sounded anything like her actual name---Moosh, Mooshtaka, Jaba the Moosh, Hippopotamoosh, and many other -moosh related names.
We're happy for her to have found her way to the nice place in Kitty heaven but we'll miss her like crazy. It's just not the same not having a kitty to trip on when you walk down the stairs.
We'll miss you kitty.
Sadly for us, this weekend we discovered Kit Kat wasn't a new breed of cat as she passed calmly into the world of all you can play with cigar shaped poo logs.
Our pretty Kit Kat
But to the very end she was anything but a normal cat. She clawed at imaginary bugs on closet doors (or what I imagined to be imaginary bugs). She played with the aforementioned poo logs and nothing else. She let Leah pull at her whiskers. She slept on bath mats. She couldn't resist curling up in a curling bag no matter how full of curling gear it was.
Having lived for more than 17 years she saw a lot of things. Most impressively, she survived being a childhood cat of two high energy children. First Andrea, who likely dressed her up as Barbie (this has now been confirmed as true), and then Leah, who for nine months, stopped whatever she was doing when she heard the yowl of Kitty.
She had many different nicknames, none of which sounded anything like her actual name---Moosh, Mooshtaka, Jaba the Moosh, Hippopotamoosh, and many other -moosh related names.
We're happy for her to have found her way to the nice place in Kitty heaven but we'll miss her like crazy. It's just not the same not having a kitty to trip on when you walk down the stairs.
We'll miss you kitty.
Things I'll miss the most---kitty helping prepare the curling bag
Friday
Prepping for a country fair
We're obviously getting old because what we do now (aside from chase mice as I've previously slated) is sit on the couch at night pondering which recipes or homemade crafts Andrea can make and submit to the Metcalfe Fair.
For those of you not in the know, although I suspect the Metcalfe Fair is known worldwide, this is the country fair of country fairs in the Ottawa region. Debate me if you want but you're wrong if you think otherwise.
Still, it's not really something twentysomethings (albeit a little more normal for thirtysomethings like me) to spend nights looking at jam, afghan, and bridal party giftbag contest submission rules.
If you're looking to submit your own, here's a look at some of the prizes.
Andrea has picked out the five she wants to take part in but I have to admit I stopped listening a little bit when she was talking about all the categories so I'm not completely sure which ones. I know one involves homemade soft toys and I know she's good at that (another story) and there's probably a real pie being put together as well.
There is no limit to the categories you can enter. If one day you dropped some food on the floor and it made an interesting shape and you took a picture of it (in either colour or black and white) you can submit your picture, sew it into a quilt and submit it. Our favourite was the 80+ homemade craft category to which people were encouraged to submit: anything you made at home.
I don't want to get into what that could mean but for the next 50 years I'm going to be thinking of all the things I can be making.
So while I'm not going to suggest anyone make a living submitting prizes to The Fair (A $6 first prize is hard to live off) I am suggesting everyone give it a go at one point in their life. I submitted peanut butter cookies once (the smooth peanut butter category) and came away with a 'thanks for coming out' ribbon. And I'm proud of it.
This will surely not be the last post I make about The Fair so check back often for our contest preparation.
For those of you not in the know, although I suspect the Metcalfe Fair is known worldwide, this is the country fair of country fairs in the Ottawa region. Debate me if you want but you're wrong if you think otherwise.
The Derby
The midway
Big scary horses
Still, it's not really something twentysomethings (albeit a little more normal for thirtysomethings like me) to spend nights looking at jam, afghan, and bridal party giftbag contest submission rules.
If you're looking to submit your own, here's a look at some of the prizes.
Andrea has picked out the five she wants to take part in but I have to admit I stopped listening a little bit when she was talking about all the categories so I'm not completely sure which ones. I know one involves homemade soft toys and I know she's good at that (another story) and there's probably a real pie being put together as well.
There is no limit to the categories you can enter. If one day you dropped some food on the floor and it made an interesting shape and you took a picture of it (in either colour or black and white) you can submit your picture, sew it into a quilt and submit it. Our favourite was the 80+ homemade craft category to which people were encouraged to submit: anything you made at home.
I don't want to get into what that could mean but for the next 50 years I'm going to be thinking of all the things I can be making.
So while I'm not going to suggest anyone make a living submitting prizes to The Fair (A $6 first prize is hard to live off) I am suggesting everyone give it a go at one point in their life. I submitted peanut butter cookies once (the smooth peanut butter category) and came away with a 'thanks for coming out' ribbon. And I'm proud of it.
This will surely not be the last post I make about The Fair so check back often for our contest preparation.
Thursday
A duck video that blows my mind
Here's a perfect example of what is right about having a kid. If I were just to sit down and browse around good ole YouTube, settle on duck and the lemonade stand, then watch it for hours on end, finding it funnier and funnier each time, I'd be looked at as a crackpot.
The good thing about being a parent is, you're looked at by friends without children as a crackpot already, so you've got no standards to live up to.
So I gladly watch this clip and make other people watch it and think to myself, "Mike, how did you not think about a duck at a lemonade stand? You could have had yourself 15,000,000 YouTube views. You're childish enough to think of something and annoying enough to get simple things stuck in people's heads. And you love lemonade."
I've always wondered what people must think when they see their video is being watched by ten people, then 100, then 15,000,000. Now I don't know the guy who put this together, but here's the conversation that did not happen when he posted the video.
"Hey honey, remember that duck video I made after those beers I drank during the football game?"
"The one at the post office?"
"No, the other one."
"Oh the one at the garage sale?"
"No, the lemonade stand one."
"With that annoying song?"
"Yeah that one. I'm putting it on YouTube so 15 million people watch it."
"I hadn't thought of that, that's a good idea. Did you edit it so it doesn't look so low quality?"
"No I just left it as is. I ballpark it at 15 million views minimum. I'll do a version where I just have the words to it, no video whatsoever just to be sure."
"Absolutely great idea sweetie. You're a genius."
Now I know this is true because wives don't call husbands geniuses. And because I have no idea if whoever wrote it has a wife.
But I didn't think about it so I'm just going to enjoy it and I think all parents should too. I highly doubt this is the last video I'll share.
The good thing about being a parent is, you're looked at by friends without children as a crackpot already, so you've got no standards to live up to.
So I gladly watch this clip and make other people watch it and think to myself, "Mike, how did you not think about a duck at a lemonade stand? You could have had yourself 15,000,000 YouTube views. You're childish enough to think of something and annoying enough to get simple things stuck in people's heads. And you love lemonade."
I've always wondered what people must think when they see their video is being watched by ten people, then 100, then 15,000,000. Now I don't know the guy who put this together, but here's the conversation that did not happen when he posted the video.
"Hey honey, remember that duck video I made after those beers I drank during the football game?"
"The one at the post office?"
"No, the other one."
"Oh the one at the garage sale?"
"No, the lemonade stand one."
"With that annoying song?"
"Yeah that one. I'm putting it on YouTube so 15 million people watch it."
"I hadn't thought of that, that's a good idea. Did you edit it so it doesn't look so low quality?"
"No I just left it as is. I ballpark it at 15 million views minimum. I'll do a version where I just have the words to it, no video whatsoever just to be sure."
"Absolutely great idea sweetie. You're a genius."
Now I know this is true because wives don't call husbands geniuses. And because I have no idea if whoever wrote it has a wife.
But I didn't think about it so I'm just going to enjoy it and I think all parents should too. I highly doubt this is the last video I'll share.
Wednesday
Toy review---balls of any kind
My love of sports is starting to pay off in a big way in the baby raising department. It seems in watching lots of baseball, basketball, and football, I've got Leah interested in playing with all things round.
She plays with beach balls, she plays with footballs, she plays with little balls that you put in a jungle tree that makes loud noises and makes you want to find a mini bulldozer to deforest it.
I should be, and am, happy that Leah likes to play with such simple things. It amazes me, but doesn't really surprise me, that with all the toys with all the sensory overload doodads, it's a ball that a baby will gravitate to. That or something made of wood.
So basically the toys that have been around forever. Which makes me wonder...
Do toys have brains? And do they use the brains to manipulate children into liking them. This makes sense to me because the older toys have more experience, they're wiser. I think of the new toys having that dumb dog kind of play with me voice.
"Play with me, play with me. Uh huh, uh huh."
The older toys would sound more like Jack Nicholson. Meaning they're either scaring the kid into playing with them, or...well scaring them into playing with them.
"Hey kid, you aren't going to play that stupid piano. I'm telling you you're not. you see that toy over there, it tried to get played with and I smashed it's pace with a building block."
Maybe that's why I still play with toys I played with as a child---baseballs, basketballs, tennis balls, hockey puck balls and curling rock balls.
So here, for you to choose from for your own child are a few suggestion:
She plays with beach balls, she plays with footballs, she plays with little balls that you put in a jungle tree that makes loud noises and makes you want to find a mini bulldozer to deforest it.
I should be, and am, happy that Leah likes to play with such simple things. It amazes me, but doesn't really surprise me, that with all the toys with all the sensory overload doodads, it's a ball that a baby will gravitate to. That or something made of wood.
So basically the toys that have been around forever. Which makes me wonder...
Do toys have brains? And do they use the brains to manipulate children into liking them. This makes sense to me because the older toys have more experience, they're wiser. I think of the new toys having that dumb dog kind of play with me voice.
"Play with me, play with me. Uh huh, uh huh."
The older toys would sound more like Jack Nicholson. Meaning they're either scaring the kid into playing with them, or...well scaring them into playing with them.
"Hey kid, you aren't going to play that stupid piano. I'm telling you you're not. you see that toy over there, it tried to get played with and I smashed it's pace with a building block."
Maybe that's why I still play with toys I played with as a child---baseballs, basketballs, tennis balls, hockey puck balls and curling rock balls.
So here, for you to choose from for your own child are a few suggestion:
(more for dad whose favourite team I'm sure is the mighty Penguins)
Tuesday
Getting ready for parental leave
A while ago it seemed like an awesome and exciting idea to take a couple of months parental leave while Andrea returned to the world of humans older than one year.
How could it not be exciting? Leah loves to cry when I hold her and I don't have any milk in my breasts (although I prefer to call them pectoral muscles).
At the same time, two months seemed like an eternity and no matter how exciting the prospect of being home with my daughter was, it seemed like it was years away.
Two months is now closer to two weeks and excitement is morphing into fear. In fairness, Leah is nowhere near as bad with me as she used to be and I can honestly say that sometimes she even has fun with daddy.
But I'm scared that my trick of making her blow raspberries to get a smile out of her might not work for seven hours in a row for 60 days. And I'm the parenting definition of a one-trick-pony.
So I need to spend these final two weeks doing as much as I can to ready myself. This means:
- don't watch how easy it is for a mother. They're weird creatures who are born to raise kids. Andrea is no different. Father's are the one's who are supposed to 'give them character.'
- learn how to make a face that's not the raspberry face. Could be the crinkle-nose, could be the wide eyed then shut face, really anything other than the raspberry.
- learn how to read in a way that interests a child. I've learned that the reading I normally do in my head isn't that interesting when I say it out loud. I believe I sound more like Buzz Killington than Vincent Price. I need to learn how to talk like a Fairy Princess or a Bridge Troll.
- find a parking space close to mommy's work for the days the above aren't working.
- I'd make a boob reference but something else I'm learning is don't make mommy mad at you if she's about to leave for the day and you desperately need her to look after the baby when she gets back.
Part of the fear is that I'm going to do something wrong and Andrea will come home and I won't be able to hide what I've done.
"Umm, Mike, Leah is holding a knife to the kitty's throat."
"I know, I don't know where she picked that up."
"Dada, pirate," Leah will blurt.
"Did you teach Leah how to be a pirate?"
"I might have tied a rope to the ceiling and swung around with a knife between my teeth calling the cat a dirty scoundrel."
"You might have done that or you did that."
"I did that until I cut my tongue."
I've heard rumours that I'm going to need to be more attentive and this and that but people like to pull my leg and I think I'm going to assume this is one large leg-pulling that is being expertly orchestrated by everyone around me.
I'll just keep on watching movies as Leah plays on her own with her toys. I won't worry that 'she'll get into something she's not supposed to,' because I'll just move everything out of her way before I put her down. And I certainly won't worry that she won't want to sleep most of the day, because of course she will. I'll probably even have time to clean the house a little and maybe slip in some work while I'm at it.
Alright, I'm feeling better about it already.
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