Family - KINETIC MOTIONS

October 19, 2017

Everyone Needs an Uncle Bill

I love my Uncle Bill. He is one of my biggest fans and has encouraged me to be the best I can be ever since I was a little girl. I also know he will see this post as my Uncle Bill reads my blog every day. He leaves comments, he cheers me on, and really, he is just the best uncle a girl could have. Everyone needs an Uncle Bill.

William Gomberg is the brother of my maternal grandfather, my Zaidy. That makes him my great-uncle. And yes, he is a great uncle. He, along with my Zaidy and their two sisters, grew up in Montreal in the 1920’s and 1930’s. Uncle Bill eventually made his way to New York City. He spent most of his adult life in New York then moved back to Montreal, where he lives today with his incredible wife, Susan.

But today’s blog is not about my Uncle Bill’s life. Today I am writing about my personal relationship with him and the positive and strong influences he has had on my life.

The first memory I have is his big, bushy beard. I don’t like facial hair (that may be for another blog post), and I used to tell him that he couldn’t give me those wet sloppy kisses he always loved to give his nieces and nephews simply because he had a beard. But he couldn’t help hugging and kissing his beloved nieces and nephews and always managed to convince me that his big, bushy beard wasn’t scary at all.

My brother, sister and I always looked forward, as children, to a visit from Uncle Bill. One reason, and I won’t mince words – he always came with a gift or took us out and let us choose a gift. Some of my favourite dolls and stuffed toys, which I have to this day, are from my Uncle Bill. But it was more than the gifts – he spent quality time with us. We felt he really wanted to be with us, talking, playing or reading books.

Uncle Bill taught me how to dance. Back in June 1981, when I was just 4 years old (almost 5!), our whole family travelled to our cousin’s wedding in the United States. Uncle Bill was my date, and though I didn’t like his bushy beard, I danced with him. I stood on his feet, he carried me, and he gave me the kind of special attention every child craves. I admit that I don’t remember much about the wedding (sorry Judy and Ira!) but I do remember my moments there with my Uncle Bill.

Knives. He gave me my first knife, a beautiful Swiss Army knife, when I was 12 years old, for my Bat Mitzvah. Little did I know that it was to be only the first knife of many from him. Did you know that knife sharpening is an art? Did you know just how sharp a blade can be? Spend a few minutes (and bring your knives) to my Uncle Bill, and he will teach you. It will change your life.

Books, newspapers, magazines, and now websites. My Uncle Bill ingests and soaks up knowledge like no one else I know. While today, at age 87, he may have physical challenges, his appetite to read, learn and educate others has not slowed down. It wouldn’t be a normal week if I didn’t receive a few tidbits of knowledge, via many web links, from my Uncle Bill. Do you want to know about the best knives available today? How about the history of the Jews of Lithuania? Or maybe you want to know about left handed baseball players who hit 30 or more home runs in a season? Are you into politics and want to learn more about the current situation in the United States? Ask Uncle Bill. He has a link, or a book, for that.

Just mention an interest or a new hobby to Uncle Bill, and you can see that his wheels are turning. How can he help you embrace your hobby? This summer we visited Uncle Bill in Montreal just after Matthew and I went to Chicago. Matthew sat with Uncle Bill and excitedly shared every detail about his recent experience and his love of baseball. To ensure Matthew is properly educated about some of the baseball greats, a few weeks later packages arrived for Matthew from Uncle Bill. First was a book about Satchel Paige, then another arrived about Jackie Robinson, then one on Ty Cobb.

Matthew was overjoyed to receive a special gift like this. He was amazed that his great-great uncle listened so attentively to him and was thoughtful to send him these books. Few children have a great-great uncle, and even fewer have the opportunity to sit down, face to face and have an insightful conversation with him. At age ten, Uncle Bill has already influenced Matthew’s life.

I could write thousands of words about my Uncle Bill, but I hope all of you understand just how special he is. If you have – or if you had – an uncle like this you understand what I mean.

Uncle Bill, thank you for being who you are and what you are. I know you are reading this whole blog post because I count on you to read every time I post. Keep doing what you do, big, bushy beard and all.

Yep that’s me and Uncle Bill, just a few years ago.

September 19, 2017

It’s High Time for some Holidays

It’s that time of year again. As the evenings grow cooler (or are supposed to) and the leaves start falling from the trees, it means another year on the Jewish calendar is coming to a close. Tomorrow is the final day of the year 5777, and in the evening, we will ring in the new year with family festivities and a whole lot of food. That’s right, it’s High time for some Holidays.

Different religions and nationalities celebrate the New Year at a different time of year. Chinese New Year typically falls between January 21 and February 20, during the coldest part of the winter in Canada. Hindus don’t actually have one common day and instead have at least three different New Year’s days on the calendar. From what I read, “the celebration of the new year has more to do with community, language and region, than with religious affiliation.”

For Judaism, while some feel like the spring, during the month of Nissan, when Passover falls, is the new year, the Holiday in fact happens when summer turns to fall, in the Jewish month of Tishrei. The Holiday that many of you have heard of is called Rosh Hashanah, which directly translated from Hebrew is head (Rosh) of the year (Hashanah). Simply put, it’s Jewish New Years.

There are no street parties, fireworks, or counting down to midnight beside a dropping ball. Rosh Hashanah, like all Jewish Holidays, begins at sundown, and people celebrate in different ways. But one common thread through all celebrations, like so many other Jewish Holidays, is food and family. What would a holiday be without this pairing?

Not to minimize the role that synagogue, prayer and the blowing of the shofar (the traditional ram’s horn) play on this most important Holiday, but today I am focusing mainly on food and family.

David and I both come from large families (David is the youngest of five kids and I’m in the middle of three), all of our siblings are married, each with at least two children. If you put our two immediate families together you have more than enough people to play a baseball game, with extra pitchers in the bullpen and players on the bench. So, when it’s Holidays time, we draw on a large group with whom to celebrate.

Our wider family circle is just too big to celebrate together (and members of the family live all over the world), so we don’t see everyone in one evening. Whether it’s a large group of 25-30 people, with tables lined up across the back of my house, or a more intimate crowd of 10-12 in my dining room, I always look forward to the Holidays.

The emails about menu planning and food combinations start swirling around weeks (sometimes months!) in advance. Who’s making the soup? How many proteins do we need? Are five kinds of dessert enough? Will the children eat any of the food we are preparing? Do we care if the children eat, as they will behave so badly anyway and probably won’t eat anything, no matter what it is….

As the days draw closer to Rosh Hashanah, I suddenly realize that Matthew grew two inches over the summer and his only nice pants look more like capris. Julia’s feet are suddenly two sizes larger and running shoes really don’t go with her beautiful new puffy pink dress. Should Nessa wear tights with her dress, as she most definitely will bum walk all over the floor.

Do I throw disposables on the table and make it easy or do I dress up my dining room table for once and pull out the fine china? Do I dare try to host an elegant evening? Okay, forget that thought – elegant and High Holidays meals don’t go together.

Will I get the annual Rosh Hashanah photo of the kids? I have been successful a few times, but usually someone misbehaves and the resulting picture is too embarrassing to share publicly. I have included just a few here, as really most are not acceptable for public consumption.

Holidays — Matthew’s first Rosh Hashanah, from September 2007

And since the Holidays begins tomorrow, I had better get cooking. To all my readers, whether you celebrate or not, I wish you a happy and healthy New Year. Let the celebrations for 5778 begin!

August 22, 2017August 23, 2017

Home is where the Hart is

I have been teasing this blog post for the last few weeks. I have mentioned the house in Saint Donat a few times in previous posts, and now is the day I will share the great wonders of this special place. I’m talking about the Hart family country home, deep in the Laurentian mountains, in the heart of Quebec.

The Hart family is David’s mother’s family. David’s grandfather, Isador Hart, bought land in the far-off village of Saint Donat in the 1940’s. In 1949 he and his wife, Ada, built a small cabin on the edge of Lake Archambault. They chose a spot where the land juts out and has the most spectacular view of the lake. From this spot, it feels like the mountains are melting into the water below.

The two-bedroom cabin was a tight squeeze for the Hart family of five, which included their three kids, Barbara, Annie and Billy. Over the years, as the family grew, the house was expanded and renovated. Today it is a five-bedroom, three-bathroom sprawling bungalow. The house maintains its 1950’s character, with the original yet functional kitchen, painted wood paneling and assortment of vintage furniture.

The Hart family’s connection to this home is something special. As my mother-in-law, Barbara, recently said, “If I forget thee, O Saint Donat, may my right hand wither.”

David grew up in this home, as did his siblings and cousins. They spent their summers here, swimming in the lake, playing hide and seek and building sand castles on the beach. David often tells me that his best memories of his childhood are from Saint Donat.

I have been coming to Saint Donat for half my life. I have been here when it’s almost empty and quiet and also with twenty other people. When the house is empty, you can hear the loons sing on the lake and the trees rustle in the wind. When the house is full, like it is this week, it can be hard to find a seat on the couch or two minutes in the bathroom. I remember one summer, a few years ago, when the house topped twenty people and we ran out of beds and couches for people to sleep. The living room was so packed with people, on couches, the floor and a cot, that it looked like a homeless shelter.

The traditions are many in the Hart house, and there are too many to include all of them here. People don’t swim here, they throw themselves in the lake. It wouldn’t be a summer without “Steak night in Canada.” A popular evening activity is a rousing game of Boggle. A morning is not complete without a roaring fire. Grandma Hart’s famous eggplant, first made by Ada and now by Billy, is a staple. There are power walks, canoe trips and camping trips. Squad Leader. The deer head. Decorated plates. Ancestor photo. Good things breakfast. Blueberry pie. People magazine.

I often joke that the home has kept so much of its original charm that if you pushed one of the outside walls too hard the whole house would fall over. Okay, it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but like any home that is almost 70 years old, the property probably needs a bit of TLC. Maintaining a family country home for so many years can be a challenge, and planning for each summer is often an anxious experience. But for me and David, once we hit the Laurentian Autoroute and pass our favourite landmarks like the Big Chicken, Banana Bridge and cross on the mountain, our stresses disappear.

For the Hart family, no matter how busy life is, no matter where in the world they live, Saint Donat is their true home. They would move mountains to spend time here and come together as a family. As a thunderstorm brews outside and we gather in the living room beside a roaring fire, today the Hart family is enjoying a typical Saint Donat day. I look forward to so many more.

August 21, 2017August 21, 2017

We were Eclipsed, and it was Great. Best way to experience a Solar Eclipse

The emails began months ago when the Hart family started to discuss summer plans. Uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters and brothers were planning to come together in August for our annual thundering hordes, and August 21 was pinned on the calendar. An eclipse of the sun. A partial eclipse, but still something special.

How do we “see” the eclipse without seeing it? How do we protect our eyes? Can the children participate? The emails swirled, orders were made for special glasses and research done on pinhole cameras. Would we “see” anything? Would the sky be clear or would we get rain? The questions and questions and emails and emails. It was overwhelming.

The Hart family (David’s mother’s family) has come together in the village of Saint Donat northwest of Montreal (more on this in another post). Relatives have traveled from far off places like Israel and Washington state and converged on the family country home.

Over the past 24 hours I have read countless websites about this major event, as I soaked up whatever knowledge I could. By mid-morning today I was still far from an expert, and I don’t think anyone else in the house was either. We all knew that looking directly at the sun was a bad idea and could do damage to the eyes (specifically the retina).

Some people chose to go on a short canoe trip and the bright sun be damned. Others wanted to close the blinds and hide out in the house all day. Most of us decided to strap on the special glasses and try to see the moon move across the path of the sun.

The Montreal area only expected a partial eclipse of about 59-66%, so we knew that the sky would not go dark. We also knew that a patch of cloud or burst of rain could ruin it all. But the day stayed bright and sunny with only a few clouds.

We made our way to the deck at 1:20 pm and carefully tried on the special glasses. It took us a while to fasten them tightly to our eyes, just in case a drop of sun dared touch our retinas. David gasped in fear if anyone looked up, with the glasses on, for too long, and Julia didn’t quite understand what was happening. The rest of us, in good cheer, enjoyed the experience tremendously.

I tried to snap a photo with my phone (with my phone protected by the glasses), and that did not quite work and could only snap a photo in my mind as I glanced to the sky throughout the afternoon. I was in awe of the sight, of Earth’s great moon passing so gracefully across the sun, and blocking its path to us. With all the great inventions of humankind and great discoveries on Earth, there, in front of me, was an astounding natural sight. It is an event that has been happening for billions of years, and we were just spectators. Wow.

Thank you to everyone in the crowded house, all fourteen of you (with me it makes 15!), for preparing, discussing and experiencing this great event with me. We had disagreements today, a lot of silliness and a lot of fun. Maybe we can come together again for the next solar eclipse, scheduled for 2024!

August 19, 2017August 19, 2017

Chicago with my Boy

My son Matthew loves sports. He is crazy for baseball and is a huge fan of the Toronto Blue Jays. He also likes the Chicago Cubs and followed their thrilling playoff run in 2016 when they won the World Series. After the big World Series win Matthew told me that his dream (note he was 9 years old!) was to see the Cubs play at Wrigley Field in Chicago. He joked that it would be just so cool to see the Blue Jays face the Cubs at Wrigley.

Then the 2017 Major League Baseball schedule came out and lo and behold, his beloved Blue Jays were scheduled to play the Cubs, at Wrigley, in Chicago. He had to go. I had to go with him. We booked our flight, our hotel, then secured a pair of tickets to the August 18 game. Matthew’s dream was about to come true.

Fast forward to Friday, August 18, 2017 – today. I already sent David off to the family’s country home in St. Donat with our daughters (more on that in a blog post next week). Matthew and I woke up at 4:30 am to a dark and quiet house and crawled into our awaiting Uber taxi. With only carry-on luggage and Nexus cards in hand, we were at our gate 10 minutes after our arrival at the airport.

Our very full flight was on time and felt like a party. Most of the passengers were just like us, headed to Chicago to cheer on the Jays. There was laughter and chatter and even the flight attendant yelled “Go Jays Go” over the loudspeaker. It was the most festive atmosphere I have ever experienced on a plane.

We landed early this morning in Chicago, at 7:25 am, and made our way to our hotel downtown. We dropped off our luggage, enjoyed a filling breakfast at a local café then set out to explore the Magnificent Mile and surrounding area.

Matthew fell in love with Chicago immediately. The tall buildings, the friendly people and great shopping (for him that meant sports stuff and candy). He secured a Cubs hat and even a t-shirt with Kris Bryant on it – only because he is #17 and that’s what matters, of course. Then we made our way to Wrigley.

On the packed train to Wrigley Ville Matthew was jittery and excited. He looked at me at one point and remarked with a big smile, “I have never been so excited in my life.” As the train approached Addison station and Wrigley field appeared through the window, he was in awe. He was so excited that he could not even speak.

The stadium and the game proved to be everything we had hoped. There is something magical about this ballpark, the Cubs and Cubs fans. The thousands of Jays fans in the stands were as loud as the Cubs fans, and we had so much fun sitting with locals and tourists alike. I have been to a few MLB ballparks, but never have I sat with more friendly and wonderful people than the Cubs and Jays fans we sat with today. They are what made the game so great. We cheered together for both teams, clapping loudly when Pillar made an incredible catch at the centre field wall or when Javier Baez blasted a massive home run late in the game.

Matthew tested out his new Cubs hat and shirt and mixed these with his Blue Jay paraphernalia. He high-fived the pair of Jays fans in the row ahead of us. He shared stats and stories about all the Jays players with everyone around us. I learned the life story of the guy in the row behind us who is retired and now has season tickets to the Cubs. We were like one big happy family.

The Jays lost the game, and they were clearly outplayed. But it didn’t matter. We had a wonderful time at Wrigley. We stayed a while after the game to explore the neighbourhood and celebrate the afternoon with thousands of other fans. Matthew even cheered on the Blue Jays players and coaches as they boarded their bus.

Tonight, we are exhausted but exhilarated. We feasted on some of Chicago’s famous deep-dish pizza for dinner, and we are ready to collapse. Tomorrow is another day in the Windy City. We start our day on the river for an architectural tour of Chicago on the First Lady and will finish off at a Major League Soccer (MLS) game, as the Toronto FC take on the Chicago Fire.

It’s sports and Chicago with my boy. What could be better?

August 14, 2017August 14, 2017

My Family is Complete Again

Yesterday morning, on a beautiful warm and sunny Sunday in the summer, David, Nessa, Julia and I (and our nephew Eliah!) got in the car and drove to the airport. Six weeks had quickly passed and it was time to collect Matthew at the airport. His fourth summer at Camp Kadimah was over and it was time to return home. As I watched his tanned and dirty face light up as he saw his family when he entered the arrivals area I knew my family was complete again.

Three months into blogging people often ask me if I have found my groove, where I plan to take this blog or if I plan to tackle more controversial topics. They also ask me if this space is personal or if I am open to sharing thoughts or topics that are more private.

So far, the majority of my posts are light and consist mainly of my musings. For the most part I write about what I see and experience every day. But sometimes I write about a topic of which I am passionate, such as the role of women in society or childcare.

The post I take most to heart is the one I published on May 26, the day Nessa turned one. This delicious little baby, who is now 14 months old, is our miracle. The day she was born I knew my family was complete.

When Matthew flew off to camp last summer, and again this summer, I felt a void in my house. When he wasn’t home my family was not complete. We are a strong family of five. I learned over the past fourteen months that each of us contribute something different and special to this dynamic.

Many couples either choose to not have children or for various health-related reasons cannot have children. I realize these people are in very different categories, but at the end of the day they are childless. For all the accomplishments in my life I am most proud of my children. They are rowdy, messy, often dirty and expensive. But they are also loving, intelligent, sweet and give the best hugs. My life would be nothing without my family.

In my May 26 post, I wrote about my struggles with infertility and my great desire to have a third child. I know that there are many women out there who are dreaming and wishing for just one child. That one child would be everything to these women and would complete their family. My message to you, is don’t give up.

I will never say that the dream is an easy one to achieve, but if you want to complete your family with a child then my advice to you is to keep trying. Every time I look at each of my three children I am reminded of how much they mean to me and how my family and my life are complete because of them.

So, now Matthew is home, and the sliced apples, strawberries, iPad and sports marathon have returned. The house is a bit louder and life more hectic with three kids in the house again. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

August 7, 2017August 7, 2017

High Park-ing it this Weekend as a Tourist in My Own City

400 acres in the city, with recreational facilities, natural landscapes and picturesque walking trails. It’s accessible by subway and close to shops, restaurants and in the heart of a beautiful city neighbourhood. It is maintained by the City and enjoyed by locals and tourists alike 365 days a year. I’m not talking about Central Park in New York (which is actually 843 acres) or Hyde Park in London (which is only 350 acres) – I’m talking about High Park, which can be found just west of the downtown core in my city, Toronto.

We stayed in the city this past long weekend and again hosted a pile of family. On Sunday afternoon, when most family had moved on to their next destination, we decided that Julia needed to get out and have a good run. Where to go on a gorgeous day in the summer, that is free and family-friendly, in our own city? High Park!

With ongoing renovations on the Collingwood country house, I am continuing my spring-summer-fall series of being a tourist in my own city. I will admit that instead of getting out and discovering the many hidden gems of my city every weekend we often laze around and just lounge in our backyard (which I will admit is an indulgence I love). The summer is not over yet, though how many of us feel that as we pass August 1^st that the best of the summer has passed? I know that I still have weeks ahead to discover and rediscover some of the best spots in Toronto.

Back to High Park. I have visited this wondrous place a few times and have yet to explore many of its attractions. 160 acres of land were donated by John George Howard to the City of Toronto back in 1876. While Howard lived in his home, called Colborne Lodge, until his death in 1890 (he and his wife are buried near that home too), his land was turned into a park for all city residents to enjoy. More pieces were added over the years to create the current 400-acre area that is known to this day as High Park.

We only arrived at the park late afternoon and decided to focus on walking trails on the east side, with a final destination at the famed playground.

I knew that the High Park Zoo was sure to please both the one and seven-year-old. This is a teeny tiny zoo, along a pedestrian-only pathway. There are some interesting and friendly animals in this zoo, such as yaks, bison, llamas and of course the infamous capybara. If you are looking to visit a zoo with many exotic animals with acres and acres of paddocks and cages then this is not the zoo for you. If you want to learn a few things about a few animals on a stroll through the park then this is a must-see!

The highlight of the day for my kids was definitely the Jamie Bell Adventure Playground. This playground was the dream of local resident, High Park neighbour and community builder Jamie Bell whose vision was realized when this playground opened in 1998. This natural playground, built to look like a castle, is a dreamland for children. It is busy on a long weekend, but all the parents and children were in such good spirits to be at this park on a beautiful day that the crowded scene did not seem to bother anyone.

My husband, David, does not like to walk in a straight line or ever take a direct path to his destination. He suggested we follow some of the nature trails on our way back to our car, and seeing that the park was busy with people and cars I followed his lead. We took a few wrong turns and tripped over a couple of tree roots, but it was a worth it. We walked through the off-leash dog area, which pleased my girls. At one point Julia saw three Chihuahuas, her favourite dog breed, and was thrilled to skip alongside them down the path.

We covered only a few of the 400 acres of High Park. I have yet to see the famous Sakura trees and their cherry blossoms in the spring or walk along the western shore of Grenadier Pond to see its ducks and geese. The french fries at concession stand #2, along Colborne Lodge Drive, are tasty, but that’s the only food I have consumed there. High Park is vast, with so many areas I really must explore.

So where to next as I continue my journey to be a tourist in my own city. I am open to suggestions. Comment here, post me an idea on Facebook or Tweet me @AliciaRichler.

August 3, 2017August 4, 2017

Where Did the Evening Go?

Have you ever asked yourself that question? You start the day fresh, with so many ideas and plans of what you will accomplish at work and at home. That brief will be completed and handed in to the boss, dinner will be cooked and on the table at 6:30 pm and all the laundry will be washed and folded. Oh, and you will go through that growing stack of paper on the table in the hall. At the office, you put out fires all day and the brief is left half-written. You pick up dinner on your way home and throw it on the table at 7:00. One load of laundry is left in the washer and the stack of paper has grown again. It’s 11:00 pm, you are exhausted and ask yourself, where did the evening go?

Are the days getting shorter or is my life just getting busier? With three young children and a new career and professional life developing I know I have big dreams. I know I can’t have it all, but at least I can try to accomplish many of the tasks on my list. It seems so easy every morning when I have energy and a cup of coffee in me to dream about everything I want to get done that day, that week and that month. By the end of the day, most days, I ask myself, where did the evening go?

Children really have a great talent of destroying an evening. That’s right I said it. My children are the loves of my life, but wow, I can’t get anything done when they are around. The baby, as cute as she is, monopolizes me and my time when I am home with her. By 5:00 pm, like a typical 14-month-old, Nessa is whiny and crabby and claws at my ankles like a pesky dog. Her seven-year-old sister, Julia, refuses to go to bed lately, claiming there is no bedtime during summer vacation. My husband has been getting home from work late often, so dinner is only cleaned up after 8:00 pm.

By 9:00 pm dinner is usually cleaned up, the baby is usually asleep in her crib and there are only a few toys left on the family room floor. Julia is still running around the house screaming she is not tired and I may have remembered to put a load in the laundry.

When we hit 10:00 pm sometimes Julia has fallen over unconscious on a chair or the couch and I tidy up around her. Now it’s time to get lunches ready for the next day, send the daily email or letter to camp so that Matthew doesn’t think I don’t love him and switch over the laundry (if I remember that I put a load in in the first place).

At 11:00 pm my brain has fallen asleep but I think my body is still in motion. Maybe I will have a snack or take a shower. Maybe I will tidy Julia’s supremely messy room as she is still asleep on the living room chair. Then the baby wakes up and she is screaming and telling me I am a terrible mother for leaving her in her crib in that dark horrible room.

Where did the evening go? That’s where my evening went. Forget preparing for the next day’s blog post or going through that large stack of paper on the table, reading the next chapter of my book, catching up on old episodes of House Hunters on HGTV or cleaning the fridge.

And the next morning, as I wake up fresh and ready for the day I ask myself as I think about the day before, where did the evening go? And I tell myself that that won’t happen today because today is a new day and I will accomplish everything I set out to do. I will keep thinking that way because one day I will come through on my promise and one evening I will prepare the next day’s blog post, go through that large stack of paper on the table, read the next chapter of my book, catch up on old episodes of House Hunters and clean the fridge. When will that day happen?

July 31, 2017

Filling the House with Family

How many members of your family – or your spouse’s family – have you crammed into your home in one day, one evening or one weekend? The most relatives I have ever hosted for dinner was 32, and Holiday meals at my house average 25 people. I have hosted parties for family or friends with dozens of people too. But how many of these relatives have stayed at your house overnight?

Each year, throughout the summer, my husband, David, and I host a ton of close family who are visiting from overseas. So, when I say we “host” I mean we cram in various family members for days at a time into our house. David’s family lives all over the world, from faraway places like Israel and New Zealand to various towns in Ontario like Peterborough and London. Their main destination is the family’s beloved country home in Saint-Donat, Quebec (details on that house coming in a future post). But they also enjoy some big-city fun, BBQ steak and a visit to our home while they are in Canada.

Once in a while we will host a few relatives, but usually when one plans a visit they line up behind him or her and come along too. In the summer of 2014, just after we moved into our current home, I believe we crammed 12 or 13 people into the house for four days. I had people sleeping on couches, a futon, a couple of beds and even the floor. There were toys, clothes and scraps of food everywhere. My fridge overflowed with food and emptied every few hours, and we gave our stove and oven a good workout. There was screaming and whispering and tears and laughter.

This week was the start of our annual summer hosting of David’s family, and this weekend we were a rowdy group of 8 people in the house. We made full use of our spacious home, with people sleeping on the futon, a couch, beds and even the floor. I cooked from all the food groups, starting with a huge steak and chicken BBQ dinner on Friday night, and the festivities came to a crescendo Sunday night with my first-ever attempt at fish and chips.

Family will continue to arrive and depart Canada in the coming weeks, and most of them will make a stop at our house. Next weekend David’s sisters are joining us, then a few days later his brother arrives. Each guest is different, and as is the case with all of us (including me, David and our children!), everyone has their quirks. Some are cleaner and tidier than others, some are loud while others are quiet, but one thing is clear – they all like to eat!

Now don’t get me wrong – I enjoy hosting family, and I love to cook for a crowd. In particular, I like to cook for a crowd who appreciates food and like to eat. David and I look forward to the summer visits from various relatives, and we carefully plan our menus, sleeping arrangements and activities. But of course, it’s a lot of work, especially when our house is crammed with people for days.

This weekend’s relatives have moved on to other destinations and for a few days the house is quiet with only me, David and our girls at home. We will open our home again this coming weekend to family, find various places for them to sleep and fill the fridge with wondrous delights. Then we will come up for air, jump back in for another weekend, until it’s our turn to make our way to Saint-Donat and join the throngs of family along the shores of Lake Archembault.

July is almost over and as usual summer is flying by too fast. It’s nice to know that we can always count on visits from family to enrich the season. We feel blessed to have a large family who actually want to spend time together year after year, and we look forward to hosting them for years to come.

July 14, 2017August 20, 2018

Everyone Should be Making Music Together

How many children’s songs do you know? Did you know that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Baa Baa Black Sheep and ABC are the same tune, written by Mozart? What songs do you remember from childhood? If you have children, do you sing to them or expose them to music?

Most adults can typically name only four or five children’s songs that they know well and admit that not only were they not exposed to music in childhood but that there is little of it in their home today. I believe that human beings are naturally musical but that musicality needs to be nurtured.

One of the simplest ways to cultivate the love of music in a child is to sing to them at home or play a tune when the child is an infant. Research has shown that even in utero a baby can hear and respond to music. A newborn baby, at least my newborn babies, sleep well with calming classical compositions in the background or the gentle voice of his or her mother, father or siblings.

After a short time, many babies graduate to music classes. Children’s music classes are popular throughout North America. It has actually become quite a business. I have been taking my kids to these classes for over ten years. Some are better than others and all are a great way to get a new mother out of the house and give her a great activity with her baby.

Whether the music class is a short session with a bunch of well-known children’s songs or a more in-depth course in music, singing and voice training, I feel everyone should try to expose their child to at least one session. The City of Toronto Public Library offers free (that’s right FREE) drop-in 30-minute “Move-and-Groove” classes for children aged 0-6. My one-year-old goes to that one all the time.

All three of my kids have benefitted most from a great program called “Making Music Together.” I won’t go into its history but you can read about it HERE. As the website states, the program is about “songs, chants, movement & instruments in a relaxed, fun, interactive environment.” Because of this program my children have all expressed their musicality in their own special way.

Walking into a Music Together class is quite an experience, though that may be the case for most baby and children’s music classes. The caregivers and children sit around in a circle and over a 45-minute period sing, dance and play instruments. Note that I say caregivers AND children. Each week, as I sit around this circle with my baby I chuckle to myself as I watch grown men and women, many with Masters degrees, MD’s or other professional designations, bark like dogs, tap little wooden sticks on their heads and skip around the room.

We spend years growing up, working hard to become mature adults, then at our children’s music class all pressures of adulthood are released. We can sing and dance and be free. It’s not just the children who benefit from music but the adults too. Lately I sing all day, all be it songs entitled Wiggle, See the Pony Galloping and Shake those ‘Simmons Down. Music energizes me and makes me feel good. I know it does the same for my children. Try singing one day, even to yourself. It’s worth it.