Trick or Treat
Hey, remember these?
They’ve gone the way of these:
But UNICEF is still working hard for children in developing countries.
In fact, October 31st is National Unicef Day in Canada.
And now there’s this:
http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1029319&langPref=en-CA
Yup! Online fundraising for school kids in Canada (like Hazel!) to help other kids in developing countries go to school, to get clean drinking water, and to protect them from disease, starvation and violence.
You know how it works, we have a tutu for every occasion and they need anti-malaria netting.
We’re worried about how to prevent our babies from eating too much candy (probably best to raid their loot bags while they’re sleeping) and they’re worried about whether their babies will make it to their first birthday.
Don’t even get me started on how vulnerable little girls like ours are in some parts of the world.
Today we’re knocking on your electronic door to say, please put a stack of these:
:
in our electronic Unicef box. It’s right here:
http://my.e2rm.com/personalPage.aspx?registrationID=1029319&langPref=en-CA
If you want to give to UNICEF but find putting your money into the internet to be way too spooky! send me an e-mail:
I will spot you five bucks (or whatever) and collect your pledge later, the old fashioned way.
We’re trying to raise one hundred dollars.
XOXOXO
From Mama Flurfel, the Flurfel that is a black cat, and our wee little witchy Flurfel
Happy Halloween! And hats off to you!
She moves! She moves!
I was kind of thinking of the end of August as the end of all that is warm and good and true. But it’s been a nice Fall, hasn’t it?
September in Edmonton
I underestimated you, Fall. You are golden and magnificent.
First Day of School
Here’s our big Flurfel news:
She (see above) is a schoolgirl. Yup. Kindergarten. It’s official. She swore she would hate every minute of it and I worried so about handing my baby off to the big scary machine that is institutionalized learning. I mean, really, how could I not worry? Wasn’t she just born yesterday?
Turns out she loves Kindergarten. And I love seeing her so engaged. And if I’m going to be completely honest, I even love the morning hustle. Getting myself and three kids un-jammied, pottied, fed, de-fooded, clothed, brushed, coated, backpacked, out the door, past the sandbox, past two playparks, and around one whole city block is really something, holy kermole. But the blast of fresh air, all the “good mornings” we exchange along the way, and the being dressed before noon actually makes me feel quite human, for a change.
In other news, she (see below) is crawling.
Now that I am not her sole method of locomotion, Jo is thrilled to seize life by whatever her little heart desires. Instead of having to bellow for everything to be handed to her, she can just crawl right over to this or that, give it a good shake, coat it in drool, toss it over her shoulder and move on to the next thing. She is a busy, busy girl.
For me that means there’s whole swaths of time (like ten minute swaths!) in which all three of my children are occupied. I’ve been able to prepare myself hot beverages and then to sit down and drink them. While they are still hot. It’s kind of mind-blowing.
In other news, he (see below) is a boy now.
This was our baby Oliver at end of August:
He was beginning to remind us a lot of this guy:
I
It wasn’t just the hair but his tendency to swing from things, to communicate with grunts and monosyllables, to hurl heavy objects, and his occasional violent outbursts. I know, he looks harmless enough, but you’re not responsible for changing his loin cloth while he’s wielding a plastic sword.
But with babies, there’s always big changes just around the corner.
Now he’s a boy.
One of the most amazing developments to behold in small children is when they go from talking in single words to complex sentences. It’s called the “language explosion” because their vocabulary increases exponentially and so does their grammar. At the end of August he couldn’t say much else besides “more” and “No!” Now he’s saying things like, “I want a boat ride!” and “Look, I’m a sea turtle!” Of course, nobody but me, his Daddy and Hazel have a clue what he’s saying. He pronounces his name, “Aw-vah-lah!” But still, it’s a remarkable transformation. And now that he’s better able to communicate, he’s much less prone to frustration. Instead of hurling his supper at the kitchen wall, for example, he’ll say, “I’m all done supper. No more supper for Aw-vah-lah.”
Yesterday morning I was upstairs napping with the baby when he saw an opportunity to sneak away from his Daddy, climb the stairs, and to pounce on me. His mission was to seperate me from his baby sister and then to be rescued by me.
“I need Mama!” he cried, waving his blankie behind him like a cape.
“You’re like the opposite of a super-hero,” I said. “You’re an un-super hero. No, you’re a super un-hero.”
Then I giggled and he frowned and he said, “No, Mama. I’m a boy.”
He really, really is.
To recap, this fall Hazel started school, Jo started moving, and we said good-bye to baby Oliver, and hello to a boy!
XOXO
The Flurfels
Thanksgiving
Three Trees in Parkallen
Gratitude. Yep.
Especially for my three babies
who have taught me so much
about living in the moment
and the imperative nature of light-heartedness.
Happy Thanksgiving
xoxoxo
The Flurfels
Farewell Summer
Goodbye music festivals, sunscreen, and rain showers.
Goodbye daisies, mosquitoes and mud.
Goodbye picnics. Oh, picnics! Goodbye.
Goodbye sweaty naps in nothing but a diaper.
Or in less than that….
Goodbye dog days, you were too few.
Goodbye summer holidays. Goodbye backless shoes. Goodbye casual strolls past humming patios.
Goodbye flowers.
Oh, flowers! Goodbye.
Good-bye ice cream cones, sandy sheets, and home-made waterslides.
Goodbye beach!
Goodbye getting ‘er done. If she ain’t done, well, there’s always next summer.
Goodbye marshmallows and bonfires. Goodbye cabin. Goodbye “The Lake.”
See ya later, Mister Canoehead.
Goodbye Oliver’s surfer curls.
Goodbye.
A Photo Project – Time Travel with Photoshop
This is 4 and a half year old Hazel hanging out on Ma-me-o beach with her Grandma Jeanette, also 4 and a half, in 1938.
Yup, Grandma and Granddaughter at the beach. I did this using a photo from 1938, my Canon camera, and Photoshop.
This is the original photo:
It is Jeanette (Hazel’s Grandma) and her sister Joan at Ma-Me-O beach. The photo was hand-painted by Jeanette’s Aunt Helga. Helga was a photo tinting artist.
This has long been one of my favourite photos of Jeanette’s and when we noticed that Hazel and Jeanette were at the same age, we had to give reproducing it a try. So we headed to Ma-Me-O with a tin bucket, my Canon Rebel, and the original photo in a ziplock baggie. I excitedly told everybody I met that we were reproducing a historic photo from 1938! Nobody seemed quite as excited as me, though. Huh.
Here’s Hazel on Ma-Me-O beach in 2010:
You can’t see a row of buildings from the beach anymore like in the original photo. There’s a tree line there instead.
Here’s how I photoshopped Hazel into the original photo:
First I removed Joan from the picture. I know, it seems kind of mean — and she’s totally adorable! Sorry Joan!
I used Photoshop’s Clone Stamp tool to clone bits of the background onto where Joan was. Then I inserted Hazel into the photo.
Hand-painted photos are made by applying tint with a brush to black and white photos, so I converted Hazel into Black and White. Then I used the brush tool to get the same hand-painted look. I picked some tints and, well, painted them onto the photo.
If you’re trying this at home, make sure you set the Layer to “multiply” and turn down the opacity of your brush to about 50%.
I’m a total hack with Photoshop and I just kept hacking at it till I thought it looked right-ish. I had to blend the low-resolution sand from 1938 with the high-resolution sand from 2010. Hazel’s & Jeanette’s eyes are the same colour so I had to lighten her eyes.
Then I stole Joan’s bucket. It was just too beautiful, all hand-painted by Great Aunt Helga, to resist.
Et voila! Aren’t they a pair?
xoxo
Marlene
Ma-Me-O Beach
Last summer I googled “best beach day trip from Edmonton with kids” and received the suggestion “Tulum, Mexico.”
Um. I’ve been there. It’s so lovely. But not so much a day trip.
So we just had to answer that question ourselves by doing an extensive tour of Alberta’s Redneck Riviera with our babies in tow.
And now I feel obligated to tell the people, with all the authority I can muster in this floppy sunhat — the BEST beach day trip from Edmonton with small kids is to Ma-Me-O Beach, Alberta.
Oh Ma-Me-O! Let us sing your praises…
Ma-Me-O is about an hour’s drive southwest of Edmonton.
A lovely drive.
A country drive.
A lovely summertime country drive.
You’ll see cows and horses and hawks and wildflowers and coyotes and wispy clouds and, of course, fields of canola screaming YELLOW!
YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW!
You can leave your portable DVD player at home. It’s the kind of drive that’s fun with kids because it’s not long enough for them to get bored and there’s a lot to see.
Ma-Me-O is on the south side of Pigeon Lake. Head South of Edmonton on Highway 2 and then exit onto Highway 13, following the signs.
Look for the main entrance to the beach. There are change rooms, bathrooms, a water fountain, and ice cream and hotdog stands at peak times there. Park your vehicle on the road. Hoof your stuff to the beach and look for a place to spread your blankie.
Ma-Me-O is a real beach. With real sand. Lots of sand.
You can lie about soaking up the rays…
Or, you can muck about in the water.
The wee ones are pretty fond of mucking about in the water.
The reason Ma-Me-O is awesome for small kids is because the lake is very shallow for a long ways and there are lots of sandbars to play on.
They will happily relocate buckets of sand and water and little sticks for hours while you kick-back and soak up some “D”.
Yes, there is someone within arms reach of the chilluns in these photos. He’s been cropped out, though, because he’s shy to appear on the internets in his itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny-yellow-polka-dot bikini.
You’re welcome.
We suggest leaving just before the weather turns afoul or as the kids begin passing out. I suppose some responsible parents might choose to leave before their children collapse. Do whatever floats your boat, but remember to save enough energy to haul everyone and everything back to the car. The kids will surely have to be dragged away.
Don’t forget your floppy hat.
If you are interested in an alternate route back home or in pie, Papa Flurfel, who is always interested in both alternate routes and pie, suggests driving the 795 back. Then you can stop here:
The Pipestone 795 Café is a very fine place for pie.
If Gus had opposable thumbs, he would give Ma-Me-O two thumbs down for their “No Dogs Allowed” policy. We left him in the backyard. Otherwise he’d a been tortured by the heat and the number of balls and frisbees whizzing about in the water that he wouldn’t be allowed to chase.
The rest of us give Ma-Me-O beach a hearty 5 Flurfel rating.
“Awesome daytrip. Do it.” Mama Flurfel
“Beauty day. Just magical.” Papa Flurfel
“Ma-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-buh!” Baby Flurfel (She means, “Take me to the beach again soon.”)
“Me!” Toddler Flurfel (He means, “What an enriching experience that was!”)
“Good.” Big Sister Flurfel (She means, “Leave me alone, I’m playing with my Littlest Pet Shops. Now is not the time for reflection.”)
You maybe think I am tormenting you with all this beach talk now, during the end parts of August, post-Fringe, while Alberta’s brief summer is so quickly hurling towards fall. But one of our favourite beach days EVER, up there with that day we spent at Tulum, Mexico, was Ma-Me-O on a hot (32 degrees C!) Indian Summer day in mid-September. Oh, sweet Ma-Me-O!
Our beach season is not long, but it is lovely, so go beach while the beaching is good!
Love,
XOXOXO
The Flurfels
Inaugural Blog
Here’s me.
First came love, then came marriage, now I’m pushing a double jogging stroller.
Nice work if you can get it.
I’ve got an itch to write about it. Hence, this blog.
But enough about me.
Here’s us:
These pictures were snapped on our 10th wedding anniversary. We took the kids and the dog for a sunset stroll across the North Saskatchewan River.
We are the Flurfels.
We have three kids and a mutt/mongrel cross. We’re pretty ordinary people. We’re neither rich nor famous nor glamorous. I’m a stay-at-home mom. We live in a yellow house in the suburbs. I dress almost exclusively in black yoga suits which I purchase at the grocery store.
When I was younger, I feared being ordinary was a terrible fate. Now I’m quite keen on it.
Remember these guys? They are rich and famous and glamorous.
They got married on the very same day as us – June 29th, the year 2000. You’d think they’d be happy, what with the beauty and the wealth and such. But I guess it didn’t work out for them. It did work out for us, though.
Here’s Papa Flurfel and Big Sister Flurfel:
He works in an office building making ones and zeros whiz around. But he’d rather be carrying Hazel around on his head. At least that’s what he tells us.
Big Sister graduated from preschool this summer.
She had nine freckles in the springtime, but now she has eleven.
She is pretty committed to truth, justice, and the pursuit of ever higher knowledge.
She loves animals and her baby sister madly. She takes being a big sister quite seriously and is protective and affectionate. With her little brother, though, she thinks it prudent to set boundaries.
After her annual spring leafing-out and growth spurt, Hazel is exhibiting a wee tetch of awwwww-kwardness. She sometimes hollers, “Watch THIS, Mommy!” and then hurls herself into a piece of furniture with vigour. Then, horrified, she screams and looks at me accusingly, like, “How could you let this happen?”
Generally speaking, our Hazelnut doesn’t bottle up her emotions. She lets ‘em rip.
She loves to look up animal facts on Wikipedia, or more accurately, to have some of her people look up animal facts for her on Wikipedia. She has a remarkable memory for them. She often tells us factoids like how male seahorses carry their babies around in a pouch in their belly before they are borned. It’s true! They totally do.
Hazel can get pretty Frank Gehry with the Duplo:
We think she’s amazing.
This is our boy, Oliver:
He looks like Shirley Temple, but he acts like Muhammad Ali. Not the articulate, early-in-his-career Ali, mind you.
Oliver just turned two.
He speaks Toddlerese. He also says some things in English, such as “No, mine!” and “Mommy, I need you!” and “I need more!”
He also often runs around in enthusiastic circles shouting, “Happy day! Happy day! Happy day!”
We like him best when he’s enthusiastic about life and not wielding anything.
If asked what his name is, Oliver will excitedly answer, “Me!”
His fortes include long naps and supreme hugs.
You probably should know that Oliver should NOT be trusted with a garden hose.
This is our baby, Josephine:
She is almost 9 months old.
Her newest skill set includes eating solid foods and sitting up. She’s a bit antsy to get crawling but so far can only move around by commanding someone (with emphatic gestures and sounds) to move her. She is a remarkably assertive person and very social, I think. She doesn’t like to be left out of the action, no siree. She lets us know when she feels left out.
Her things are very chubby, her toes are super delicious, and she makes the cutest little noises. Gosh.
One of her favourite things to do is to dismantle Hazel’s Duplo creations. They’re symbiotic, that way. Like Fraggels and Doozers.
Baby Jo is delightful, we think.
Her pig tails drive us to utter distraction.
XOXO,
The Flurfels
House of Flurfel 
