Santa's elves managed to construct a lovely toy kitchen in time for Christmas morning, complete with real taps, wooden food and metal pots and pans. It could have actually been a little too real, as Bea opened it up, tried the faucet, looked at us with a disappointed face and asked, "where's the water? make the water come on!" Eep. Post sugar-crash recovery she loves it and plays with it lots. Regarding the construction, Santa's elves would like to mention just how important it is to get accurate measurements of the actual shelf you are building around. Apparently confirming measurements from the Ikea website is not good enough and will result in multiple trips back to the hardware store to get plywood re-cut.

Now that Christmas has come and gone, the tinsel is put away and the tree is back on the porch, I am looking forward to the return of the routine for a few short months before everything is turned topsy-turvy again in the springtime.

As for New Year's Resolutions, my resolution for this year is to learn how to parent a newborn and a preschooler at the same time, and to drink more water. Oh, and if I get a chance I'd like to learn how to knit two socks from the toe up at the same time on the same long circular needle. But no ambitious plans to learn how to play guitar or completely reorganize my house. 2009 is going to be about doing what I know and taking it to the next level.

We've just been whacked with a massive snowstorm and cold snap, with about a foot or more of snow falling over the past day or two and temperatures dropping to about -15C. Everybody's pipes are freezing, cars are sliding off the roads, and most people just gave up today and stayed inside. We bought Bea a sled and ventured out in the snow to go sledding at the park. If all the adults who need to drive and commute are miserable about the snowstorm, the giddiness and glee of all the children sliding down the hill made up for it.

I'm in the Christmas-prep home stretch, almost done all the baking and cleaning and knitting and kitchen-construction. The bump is growing, and getting bigger faster this time, but whether that's due to pre-stretched muscles or all the cookies I've been eating is debatable. We had a scan on Thursday night and I succumbed to temptation and asked the tech if she could give us a hint as to the sex of the baby - it looks like a girl! It's kind of interesting knowing it's a girl this time. Somehow I feel more realistic about the whole thing now, and I can imagine scenes with Bea and a little sister and everything seems less hypothetical than before. Not that I really doubted that there would be a real baby at the end of the nine months, but everything I could imagine was always prefixed with a maybe - "maybe it will be a boy and I'll have to sort through those second hand baby boy clothes from Kyla" or "maybe it will be a girl and Bea will have a little sister".

We've finally found a solution to the ongoing spraying problem by getting Louis a large dog crate (aka "the clink"). I felt mildly guilty locking him up at night and when we went out during the day, but now that it's been almost a week with no spraying AT ALL and significantly subzero temperatures and a huge snowfall, I feel so thankful we finally went out and forked over the money for a cage.

I sorted through some more photos today and put a few more up on Flickr, so head on over there if you're interested in seeing just *how* much snow we got here in mild, rainy Vancouver.

In other news, Tom is back, my birthday was low-key and lovely, and I am scheming up an exciting new website idea. New things to come in the spring!

Despite the mechanical breakdowns, I feel pretty good. Not stressed out about Christmas yet, seeing friends and neighbours regularly enough that I don't feel isolated, and finding a peaceful groove with Bea. We've reached a place where we can negotiate agreements together (to some degree) and that makes things so much easier.

I've organized another morning of childcare too, which makes such a dramatic difference to my week. Having four productive daytime hours to write, think about writing projects, read or just enjoy the quiet is fantastic. Not that I don't enjoy being a full-time parent, but I think I enjoy it more when I have time to do other things too.

Comments will be functional again as soon as possible, but probably no sooner than this time next week. Feel free to email me your thoughts instead and I'll post them when the comments are working again.

I feel like I just had a celebrity wave at me from across the street or something.

While I browsed around the store, Bea homed in on the toddler kitchen set that was there for kids to play with while their parents shopped. It was really a perfect little kitchen - all lovely wood, with adorable little wooden spatulas and fried eggs and knives to chop carrots held together with velcro. She happily cooked and chopped for ages, ignoring my numerous reminders that we were leaving the shop in five more minutes, two more minutes, one more minute. After hauling her out of the store under my arm like a screaming, writhing sack of potatoes I went home and did a bit of research on wooden toy kitchen sets.

Here's the one she (and I) fell in love with at the shop: Ma Grande Cuisine. That's right, $236.00. A bit much for a Christmas present, I think. This one seemed a bit more reasonable: Ma Petite Cuisine. Then Tom noticed the dimensions and we figured that $89 for 35cm of wooden kitchen just wasn't good value.

As I was about to give up on the idea of a lovely wooden kitchen set beneath the Christmas tree, Tom stumbled upon some amazing links to DIY toy kitchens that parents have crafted up for their kids from old TV entertainment units, a tablecloth, and best of all, Ikea components. I have a love for Ikea that is kind of embarrassing, but I had to admit that Ikea or not, this little kitchen set could be built cheaply, by us, for less than 50 bucks, and it is sooo sweet and the perfect size for a little kid.

This crafty little kitchen appeals to me on so many levels: my earth-conscious side is delighted that we could find another use for the Ikea table we already have sitting unused in our upstairs hallway, and my thrifty side is happy it won't cost $236.00. My aesthetic sense is delighted with the slick Ikea modern look, and my cancer-phobic side is just happy with the idea of avoiding another hunk of plastic inhabiting our living space. The part of me that loves to make stuff with my hands is happy to have a project, and hopes that by making things myself I'll teach my kids some practical skills, unlike those kids who are graduating from high school wearing velcro shoes.

Now that I'm back and have had a night of interrupted sleep I feel short on patience again. Nothing makes me grumpy faster than trying to get that last hour of the night's sleep while a little person is scratching at the back of my neck with too-long fingernails. Somehow, I feel like I should have figured this all out during my weekend away. Why don't I have the magic formula now? The only thing I can think of to do is cut Bea's fingernails. Maybe the solution isn't any more profound than that - the best we can do is to be pragmatic and accept such life truths as the fact that parenting a two year old requires a massive amount of patience and frequent fingernail clipping.

As much as I love being a full-time (stay at home, unemployed, housewife, etc - choose the least offensive label) mom, after weeks going by in which the longest stretch of time I have to myself is three hours I start to get a little burnt out. Maybe this would be different if I were more extroverted and didn't need solitude to recharge, or maybe it would be worse, but in any case it can be hard to make sure everyone's needs are being met in a family. I've been thinking about taking a night or two out and going here, by myself.

This post sounds like I'm depressed or something, and I'm really not, which kind of makes me doubt myself and question whether or not I really need to spend the money and take time away from other things (like thesis writing) to sit in the woods by myself. I mean, I'm generally happy at home. I just haven't spent longer than 12 hours away from Beatrice since she was born. Two years ago.

In many ways I feel like I'm floating in a small boat in the calm before a storm. Things are easy enough now, but they are going to get a lot more difficult in six months. That's not a bad thing, and I knew what I was signing up for and did so gladly, but a little voice inside my head says, "take a little time out for yourself now, while you can really relax and enjoy it." Sitting in an ancient forest beside the sea sounds just about perfect.

urban knitting: the world's most inoffensive graffiti

Also, if you don't already know, we're expecting another baby in the springtime... the beginning of May, to be exact. :)

Can you imagine a dog poop fairy who comes along the mountain paths at night to collect all the nicely wrapped baggies hanging on branches and sitting on rocks? She would sure be a great convenience to all those urban folk who want to take their dogs walking in the mountains but can't be bothered to carry the poop to the nearest garbage, or at the very least leave it beneath a bush or rock so it will biodegrade.

Today, I haven't much to say except that going to swimming lessons with a 2yr old is hard work. When I got back I lay down on the couch, exhausted, and watched a leaf in the magnolia tree dangle from a thread of spider's silk for what seemed like an eternity. It spiraled around, blowing from right to left and back again, all perfect and golden and timeless.

Sometimes I feel like if I had more time to spend alone I might just sit and look out the window for a long, long time.

In the past week we got over our jetlag, I was attacked by a generic virus that gave me a fever and weird rash and I was also stung by a wasp, and we discovered that we've lost both the cable to connect our camera to the computer to download our photos and Tom's new kite. If we stayed with you during the last part of our travels, perhaps we left these things at your place?

My cell phone also joined the ranks of broken and useless electronics around the world, and I've been trying to decide whether to replace it with a supercool smartphone or another basic phone like the one I had. Part of me wants a shiny new toy, but when I try to imagine myself using it I can't come up with any situations in which I'd really need it. Logging into Facebook during playgroup? Browsing the web from the park while Beatrice is playing? Not really safe or necessary. Maybe it's for the best anyway. I can't imagine that I really need to add a BlackBerry addiction to my current internet compulsion.

But: oooh, they're so shiny and I could internet from anywhere with a wifi!