Noah and I are practising tandem eye opening this week. He’s always been an early riser. I have been too the last few years. His wake up flag runs up the pole anywhere between 10 to and 10 after 6h00. I’m usually up at 5h00, sometimes 4h00 but this week it’s been mostly around Noah o’clock.

I love the almost stillness, the birdsong fresh on morning’s lilting breeze. Today is monotone grey with a low ceiling. The sun is shining, just not here, not now. If we could get a peek above the the stacking cloud cover at maybe 3 or 4 thousand feet we’d know that the sun hadn’t really forsaken us.

Noah-David and I float up the stairs in a relative bubble of quiet. This is partly possible because he’s drawn snug to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around his little torso and waist. Just surfacing from sleep he’s warm and soft to touch, full of the sweetness of new possibilities.

We leave Maman and Nellie-Rose side-by-side in the cool curtained basement a curled apostrophe and a loving cupped crescent. They will sleep for another couple of hours with any luck. They both need it as Nellie’s restless night moves nudge and push at Mélanie making the deep replenishing zzzzzzs as elusive as the perfect day.

By 6h20 Noah and I are dressed, buckled into the Sentra and halfway to downtown as we scarf down a banana. Not much activity in early morning Sorel. We don’t see more than a handful of people in Carré Royal - the main square - and the streets leading off of it. But there are squirrels. The one that we come upon puts on a good show of being unfazed by our presence. As we approached it had been digging with its forearms in fresh dirt. Our arrival sent it off to the lower reaches of a tree trunk where Noah’s pursuit had it spiralling around and around like a barber pole’s endless stripes just out of reach of childish laughter and pitter-pattering feet.

We came across 2 still water fountains no jets shooting in the air, no streams plummeting back to earth just quiet unbroken mirror surfaces. Noah poked his head over the lip of the second fountain to see what was on the bottom and a surprise whoosh of water sent him jumping back about 6 inches. He was as shocked by this turn of events as he had been focused looking through the water’s smooth surface. Seems there is an automatic on switch timed for 7h00 at the town fountains. I’ll need to remember that for future outings. Noah probably won’t be quite so quick to peer over the edge.

One dépanneur is open. A man with a fishing rod over his shoulder unlocks a chain link gate and walks through to the mouth of the Richelieu River to make that first cast of the day. At 7h00 there’s an employee waiting to hand over some keys to the morning shift at Presse Café but nobody shows to open. We pass back at 7h30 and the girl is still outside now joined by a friend, a workmate - still not open. I’m curious about the hours because they have wireless internet. I’m hoping we can all pop in some day for a coffee, a cake and a surf.

We did see a boat this morning pulled high and dry out of the Richelieu. These are some of the things that Noah finds funny and as he recounts it, c’est fou. Boats are for water, not for the land. We discover the Sorel Tim’s and wrap things up there sharing a plain toasted bagel as we drive back to rue Hébert.

Nellie-Rose and Maman have just woken up but aren’t totally out of bed. We’re lucky because that means that there is still some time for those start of the day serendipity moments. We fall back almost weightless on the welcoming bed to laugh and laze and giggle…..

Noah-David was like a whirligig in a summer storm - perpetual movement, arms flying, body spinning round and round like a whistling top. Our boy was a bundle of stories that just had to be told. Sound effects, gesticulations, hurried breaths punctuated a 20 minute non-stop saga encapsulating the life and times of Noah-David Cordeau Smith over the previous 24 hours or so.

Tuesday night’s trip to Ste. Pie figured prominently. It was a family gathering to celebrate la Saint-Jean. “Kaboom”, said Noah - “green, red, orange, yellow!” He liked the fireworks well enough but they were a little loud. Once inside a car he was more comfortable and thought the cascading colours were like hands bursting open in the night sky.

Earlier that evening he and the Ste. Pie dog discovered each other. All indications are that it was love at first sight. It’s a tiny dog that loves to yip, run, dodge, dart and play - the same basic modus operandi that powers toddlers. Some walking took place. Even though he had the leash in his hands, we’re not entirely sure if Noah was walking the dog, or if Nemo was walking Noah. They also played some hide and seek with Noah, little hands cupped over eyes, counting to 10 and beyond. It seems that Nemo’s barking was the perfect beacon to lead a giggling little boy to a propellor tail rendez-vous each and every time.

There was a dramatic weather recap too with a recounting of rain, thunder, lightening and rainbows. He’s an engaging storyteller who wants his listeners to understand where he’s been, what he’s experienced and the role he’s played in the unfolding events.

Nellie-Rose is becoming a conversationalist running her own salon so to speak. She’s not very fussy about the fcompany she invites - seems any extended family member will do. Her new refrain is, “ay-ya-ya, ya-ya, ya-ya, ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya”. She introduces subtleties of varied tempo and increasing and decreasing volume to keep us all on the ball. When encouraged - and I love to encourage her because it’s just so much fun to watch and listen to her as she builds up steam - she can sustain a 10 minute call and answer exchange a broad, toothless smile taking up nearly her entire little face.

She’s definitely on the talking trail with us now. Her lit up face, her bright dancing eyes and that sunshine smile are all clearly calling out, “I’m talking with you now, I’m talking, telling stories for you.” The fact that we can’t understand her is just a minor glitch that’s sure to be cleared up in the coming months.

It was the Teddy - Noah reunion yesterday too. There was general happiness, hugs and Teddy been thrown in the air and most of the time ably caught in Noah’s arms. A few hours after the reunion, Noah passed by Teddy lying on a bed downstairs. He glanced over crooning “Teddy” in a sweet voice and then hopped onto the mattress pulling Teddy into his arms for a roll, a squeeze and a caress. The spontaneous release of affection was cute and endearing.

I also brought with me a Kim Possible helicopter picked up years ago from some fast food joint. It used to be Alexa’s and with a little soap and water it looked, and smelled, almost like new even after having spent years in the basement. Noah has a thing for helicopters and this one has been even a bigger hit than anticipated. It’s going to be bed with him and has been almost constantly in his hands since yesterday afternoon. It’s really got something going for it - 2 moving parts that make noise. Dropping form the undercarriage there`s an emergency rope with a grappling hook. When this rope is pulledout all the way, it starts to get pulled back up in to the body of the helicopter by the forece of the rotating blades. At 50 I find the simplicity and design pretty awesome. That rope has already been pulled in excess of a couple of hundred times in the last 24 hours and it’s still humming along.

More to tell about bike rides, horses, spitting, playgrounds and living out of a suitcase in future posts.

A recent study by Statistics Canada - Father’s use of paid parental leave - published in the June 23rd edition of The Daily got Globe and Mail reporter Rebecca Dube on the look out for some parental leave papas. After coming across the 180 Days of Magic blog she got in touch with me late yesterday afternoon in time to file her story, The daddy shift, which appears in today’s Life section of the paper.

It was a pleasure speaking with Rebecca. Her article provides some interesting insights on what’s happening in Québec and the slow transition that’s taking place in the rest of the country.

Arrived in Montréal early this morning. Now with la belle Mélanie - an adult’s night out and great festivities in store for la fête nationale at parc Maisonneuve.

A demain - until tomorrow, Dad gets to see Noah and Nellie. Noah gets reunited with Teddy.

Alexa’s at prom tonight and 2 days from now she’ll walk across the stage as part of the first graduating class from Citadel High in Halifax. It’s been a great couple of weeks for her, a bit of cramming for finals, spotty attendance in class to finish those last assignments and of course hanging with friends planning for the bal des finissants.

This afternoon their group of 8 couples along with 5 other high schools strutted their stuff in the Public Gardens. I’ve never seen it so crowded though it must be similar every mid-June. This time I noticed - it was our time and the parents were out in strength to see their sons and daughters, to wish them well, and to reflect on those days years ago when they were on the brink of release, on the edge of a new adventure.

Cameras were de rigueur and thousands of frames were taken. There were the expected poses - groups, couples, combos with parents and then the unexpected, unrehearsed candid shots that captured anticipation, the unstudied joy of moving on. Some are off to university, some to work, some to travel - all to make that on my own path thing.

Last week there was a vernissage for the grade XII Art class - what a display of seeing, of interpreting our world. There was nothing like it where I went to high school, no opportunity to encourage, to validate this kind of creativity. Alexa’s canvass that she had worked on for weeks was in the streetfront window of Eye Level Gallery and I saw it again as I drove by tonight. I see her in our backyard spray painting with Noah-David beside her wondering what is this, wondering what fun……

I’ll pick up 2 couples at 3h30 tonight. It’s a safe grad and no one escapes without a drive. It’s been a contentious topic of conversation amongst the grads for several weeks questioning why they had to be subjected to this babysitter mentality. I never really showed my cards but I’m happy the school has embarked on this policy. It should mean all kids safe, all kids sound, no tragedies, no grieving parents. I remember grieving parents from my time - children killed in rocketing drunk car accidents.

It’s been a great couple of weeks for Alexa and I, nothing special or spectacular just hanging and being - a wonderful veggie nachos night, several great films and a couple of laugh-filled episodes of That’s 70s Show - a favourite for both of us.

I’m going to miss my girl as she leaves the cocoon. We’ve had our wranglings - to be sure but as I put my head down to the pillow to rest, to dream I see her as a little girl and me as a dad trying to do my best. It looks like it’s ok……..

Tomorrow I go to Montreal to love ma belle Mélanie dancing, dancing, dancing as we whisper the night away. We’ll be celebrating la Saint-Jean with bright eyes and love sweet love. The next day it will be a hug, a love, a tickle , a smile, a laugh, a how could I have been without you with mon beau Noah-David and ma belle Nellie-Rose.

More from le pays bleu……

The wonderful and talented Nellie-Rose has not been getting much marquee time in 180 Days of Magic. I’ll be looking to turn this situation around and share some more about our little lovely. First off, let me tell you that she’s been more than a handful - at times maybe 4 or 5 handfuls when there haven’t been that many to go around.

For the first 4 1/2 months of her life our wee Nellie-Rose was wracked, convulsed and contorted with the colic. She was a colic queen without ever wanting to be one. Just now remembering, it gives me a sense of dread, tension shooting through the air, patience rapidly eaten away to be left with a huge helping of impotence.

Caught in the middle of the colic chronicles there just seemed to be nothing we could do to ease Nellie’s pain or bolster our endurance. There was no magic bullet - not rocking, hugging, cuddling, walking, cooing, jiggling, cocooning, caressing. To make matters worse, I didn’t have the touch. Whenever I tried to console our little girl the writhing picked up tempo, the banshee cry upped an octave and she stiffened like a plank of wood. Mélanie could calm her on occasion, momentarily bringing respite but the weight was primarily on her and it was a lot to take.

Nellie’s contortions and gyrations scrambled our nerves. I cannot imagine what all this did to her.

This was our reality every evening for months - usually 3 times a night starting at about 19h00 and winding up at about 23h00. It was hard to endure, difficult to maintain perspective. It didn’t have much impact on Noah-David. He just continued about his business. For me it was the most stressful experience I’ve had with kids and I had it easy given that I was out of the house all day long - I got a break.

We’re so thankful that the demon colic is behind us. On its cessation, almost overnight but spread over about a week of diminishing pain, a whole new world opened up. We were able to play, to see the blossoming personality, to relax into a new kind of caring and loving. I can’t recall the number of times that I said to family, friends and colleagues that it was as if we had a new child. Nellie-Rose became much more engaged with us, her surroundings and her inquisitive nature endeared her to us.

Since the colic retreated Nellie has shown her love of the tactile - she wants to touch everything. Instead of wails of despair she talks incessantly, intent on getting her point across. She is playful, laughing and smiling, eyes seeing all the fun her brother creates. These really are new beginnings. Since I left work in early May we’ve become much more connected. I love to have her in my arms, to change her, dress her and tickle her with cuddles until there is no tomorrow.

These past days that we’ve been apart she’s looked at me in a puzzled way on Skype, both of us flattened video images. She has picked up though at the sound of my voice and for my part I melt when I see her. I’ll be so happy to have the little Nellie bundle in my arms, on my belly, in my lap that for a moment my world will stop and just be.

More news of the amazing Nellie-Rose in future posts - stay tuned.

Note - I don’t want to blow the colic experience out of proportion. I know that there are other much more serious infant maladies. I just want to say thanks to Mélanie and all the other mothers of colicky children who continue to care for their ailing kids while ensuring that those sometimes thin strands of sanity don’t unravel. As for Nellie-Rose and the other infants, bravo you’ve weathered a rough start to the world and come through as champions.

Newfoundlanders always have a fine sense of humour. Take a peek at this perspective on colic from The Rock.

Leaving on another high note:

Pinkies plus eight

i kiss exquisite toes
lingering wriggles on my lips
ten perfectly sugared piggies
dancing on their tips

i taste delicious toes
watering morsels in my mouth
ten fragrant smiling petals
blossoming down south

i dream laughing toes
tickling twinkles in my eyes
ten warm happy babies
for our nellie-rose surprise

He’s back from San Diego an incredible journey for a young bear cub. Triumphant might be a bit of a stretch as our errant Teddy arrived in cardboard packaging with one corner caved in. Two weeks cross-continent by ground transportation. It must have been a harrowing trip. Our heroic Teddy alone in the dark and literally all boxed up brought to our door by Canada Post.

I couldn’t get Ted to talk about his re-entry to Canada. He didn’t have any papers. I don’t know if he was searched, or detained at the border. His lips are sealed about what I can only guess was a traumatic experience. We’re thrilled that he’s back where he belongs - well almost. His best buddy Noah-David is 1,000 plus kilometres away. If there’s no change of plans, they won’t meet up for hugs and cuddles until next Wednesday.

Sad to say that the Noah - Ted long distance reunion didn’t really go according to plan. Maybe I should have known better. I told Mélanie about his arrival earlier in the day on a phone call. I asked her not to share the news with Noah when he woke from his nap. I wanted to be the hero and show off Teddy on a video call.

I flashed Teddy on the screen very early into our Skype call. Instead of, “papa, papa” in ecstatic tones, there was an immediate meltdown, anguished sobs and inconsolable, free flowing tears. Try as we might, we couldn’t turn the situation around and instead ended the call. Mélanie was able to comfort our Noah-David and this morning when we spoke he talked about Teddy in a confident matter of fact voice. Eight sleeps until he sees Teddy and papa…..

It didn’t take Teddy long to get back into the swing of things. With Noah temporarily out of the picture he had no supervision (I was too busy at the keyboard, or on the phone regaling people with the news that he was back in town). Not surprisingly he got up to a few shenanigans.

First off was the rather unsubtle remonstrance about how he got home. I still don’t know how he did it but he managed to stuff himself into the mailbox pretty much thumbing, well I guess pawing, his nose at me. The message was as clear as a pristine stream - why had I chosen such an unceremonious means of getting him back to Halifax? If the plane was good enough for the trip out to San Diego, why wasn’t it the transportation of choice to get him home?

Next he got himself stuck halfway up a tree in the backyard. Being a domestic bear he didn’t have the necessary skills to get himself back down. Shortly after his rescue he commandeered one of Noah’s cars for a spin. That nearly ended in disaster. Luckily for all of us I came out just in the nick of time to prevent him from careening off the deck into an ignominious wreck in the flower bed.

He seemed to be taking a page from Yogi Bear’s mischievous suite of tricks, or maybe trying to emulate the adventurous Paddington from the darkest jungles of Peru. I’m hoping that after today’s escapades he’ll lean more to the philosophic Winnie as a role model and see the value in close friends and simple pleasures.

These bears have created quite a stamp on the popular imagination - from plush, stuffed buddies to starring roles in cartoons - let’s not forget Little Bear and his nuclear family. And then there are the ubiquitous teddy bear picnics held in cities, town and villages across North America and teddies’ connection with a famous American President.

They are fine friends for little boys and girls. We’re so happy that Ted has come home. I’m looking forward to delivering him into adoring arms next week in Sorel, Québec. We’re glad that teddy’s accidental loss didn’t wind up with him going to the wild side.

A google search on teddy bear racks up 4.6 million hits. Seems like teddy bears are here to stay.

Many thanks to Dave at Point Loma Hostelling International in San Diego for getting Teddy back home to us.

Nearly 15 years ago I wrote a Father’s Day piece for our local paper, The Chronicle Herald. It was a difficult time of my life and the reflections on being a Dad and being a son helped me to weather a sometimes rocky road. Back then I was a single papa doing it alone with the support of my immediate family and a few close friends. Their help was invaluable.

A decade and more later the rocky road has many fewer bumps and I live with Mélanie the woman I love and our 2 children - Noah-David and Nellie-Rose. Alexa, my second oldest daughter lives with us half-time and on this Father’s Day my folks, her uncle, aunt and cousins will celebrate her graduation from high school. The years have passed very quickly.

I’m going to excerpt that article here because it still rings true and I think captures a soupçon of that distilled essence that is being a parent, loving and being loved by our children. The words still dance joyfully for me.

Our routine and rhythms are well established (I wrote about Alexa and I): play times, stories, cooking projects, crafts, day care, tantrums, tears and laughter.

It is this unbridled sense of wonder which is their unconscious gift to me. I try to emulate this as best I can in my stumbling adult manner but they are the masters in this field. Their streams of consciousness flow like playful rapids, swirling, rising, falling and I can only marvel at the creativity unleashed. Take time to grab each precious moment, savour its fragrance, bask in its glow.

My 2 oldest daughters still have their poet’s eyes. Alexa’s sketch book is full of beauty that she creates and her photos have that indefinable seeing quality about them - subject matter, composition, light. Makyla was an actor for a time in high school most notably as Daphne in Queer as Folk. I was very proud of her rootedness, her ability to keep the experience in perspective. Now her poeting focuses on animals. As a vet assistant she loves and cares for animals in distress. If I had any pets I know I’d like her to be looking after them in times of trouble.

Now we have and cherish the 2 Ns - big brother Noah and little sister Nellie. The dawnings and duskings are still incredible, moreso even as I didn’t expect just a few short years ago to live this gift again. And here we are with new discoveries and growth every day, with language redefined, in French and English this time, and with bright expectant eyes embarking new adventures.

I don’t need anything for Father’s Day. I’m all gifted up, abundant in riches. These moments with the children fill my memories. They give me pause to offer thanks. Though the growing with our children is not less precious, their time as wee ones holds a special place in my heart - these are the days of endless wowing, of being and becoming, of simplicity’s compelling magic.

My kids weren’t with me the Father’s Day I wrote The Chronicle Herald piece. This year Alexa is here. Kyla is in her Toronto Tdot. Noah-David, Nellie-Rose and Mélanie are in Sorel. Our kids and Mé will get to celebrate with her dad, Raymond, a fine man who is just about to retire from an active career as a phys ed teacher for primary students. He is one of the one’s who give a damn and cares for the kids under his tutelage. Tonight in Sorel there is a charity walk to benefit a cancer foundation and Noah’s and Nellie’s grand-maman Nicole will be amongst the walkers. Before they set out, organizers will release a host of butterflies to fly free in the warm blue sky, beating rainbow sundrop wings on a flight of hope into the night.

As for my Dad, Big Bob, he and my Mom Helen are still forces to be reckoned with. We hung out today down at a local café and did a little reminiscing about teddy bears, rocking horses and other kid stuff. Long live the kids in all of us…..

The photos in order of appearance are of - Makyla, Alexa, Noah-David and our wonderful Nellie-Rose.

Can’t get Alice’s tune out of my head. That mid-70s anthem just rocked high school kids waiting for the magic day of release and long adventurous summers to embrace. The old golfing shock rocker is Halifax bound again in the fall. Don’t have a copy of School’s Out so I had to make do with a few other Alice classics this afternoon as I prepped for domestic blissing to get our
on-the-market house ready for another viewing.

The cleaning binge presented lots of opportunity to feel the absence of Mélanie and the sprogs – like that wasn’t already happening. There was laundry to put away, beds to make, toys to tidy, books to shelve but no tiny eyes there to drink in favourite stories.

It was good to see the gang earlier in the day on skype. There was Noah-David sitting on the piano bench at his grandparents’ giving me the lowdown on selected moments of his adventure in Québec. There was the now de rigueur spirited rendition of Sur le pont d’Avignon this time with Yamaska subbing in. This is our lad’s number 1 tune and he’s owning it, introducing the new places he comes across and making magic memories.

His school sortie with grandpapa kinda went awry or awe-ree as I used to pronounce it. As soon as he caught sight of a clown it was over, time to leave, to put distance between him and that scary unknown. Chalk up one for the clowns. What is their terrifying hold over the wee ones? We’re going to have to try to overcome, immunize, and inoculate against this fear if we’re to consider a Cirque de Soleil show…..

School is out in a matter of days for my 18-year-old daughter Alexa and her pals. They’re just about ready to burst, to get to the promming, graduating and the leaping into the great post-high school thing.

We hung out yesterday, some quality moving into adulthood teen time - shopping for food at the grocery store and at home watching Into the Wild. It’s a bit of a harrowing tale of uncompromising tenacity – running fast, running far, running away and then falling without intent, falling forever into the light. Great music by Eddie Vedder. I had tears in my eyes, moisture on my cheeks. As Mélanie notes I’m a real sucker for the Hollywood machine with Scottish epics high in my vulnerability zone – Braveheart anyone?

Noah-David told me about his arc-en-ciel with all the red, orange, yellow, green and blue flying out of lightening thunder sky to sparkle sunshine prism colours across his eyes. He got a new toy of plastic vegetables and is now a salad making machine. He’s got the energy to be a chef because from his vantage point everyone - Noah, Nellie and maman slept well through the night.

I can’t believe how quiet it is, how unfull of pattering feet and noiseless of little Nellie’s pre-word language conversation. I imagine you all here with tumbling voices, rolling smiles and rocking heel-to-toe races - just waiting to be together again.

TIRED - not really, more like exhausted, zapped, wild-eyed, mort debout. Since Monday night at 21h30 AST I’ve done the boomerang Halifax-Edmunston-Halifax trip. Pounding the macadam by car west and north and then by bus south and east. Just collapsed inside my door Tuesday at 19h00. It was a touch of self-imposed sleep deprivation for a good cause.

The objective - get Mé and the sproglets to Sorel to surprise her parents and make sure that Mé has someone - me. me, me - to drive halfway so she’ll be awake and alert for the trials and tribulations of the 20 when she takes the wheel. It worked, everyone’s safe and at their final destination. They turned off the ignition in Sorel at 12h30 AST

Outward bound Noah-David asked 15 minutes into the journey - “rendu“? Turns out that we didn’t have to worry about a constant echoing refrain of “nearly there yet” as he asked only once more. The kids were golden sleeping much of the caffeine-fueled 2 province marathon.

We arrived this morning at 6h05 in the trusty Nissan Sentra charger. After topping up the steed I gave the kids a squeeze and smooched my Mélanie of Québec before hopping a cab the 5 or 6 blocks to the Acadian Lines bus terminal. It had just opened at 6h00. No passengers when I arrived, just staff.

Mé, Nellie-Rose and our main boy Noah-David tracked back to the Trans-Canada to ride the grey morning light west, west, west. Cool in Edmunston but cracking summer heat and heavy wet pushed the lovely 3 to Québec while less than seasonable temps swept me east through the rolling Appalachians, across lowlands, marshes and valleys all the way back to Halifax.

I was worried all the time on the bus hoping that everything would be fine. It’s no joke being the only adult cruise controlling at 100 plus for hundreds of kilometres with 2 babies out of reach but well within earshot.

No need to worry. Noah-David sang heartily his many variations of Le pont d’Avignon which includes the bridges of Halifax, Quebec, le monde entier and many other venues fanciful and real. When he wasn’t singing, he was a conversationalist pointing out front end loaders and other matters of import for the toddler set. Nellie-Rose has just started protracted and intense vocalizing within the last couple of days so she too was able to join in on the discussion.

For Mélanie it was one of the best days she had with the kids. Nellie is now proving her mettle in the travel friendly category. After this trip and San Diego she is pretty much a confirmed habitué. Noah has been back and forth a half-dozen times to Québec, done a jaunt to Florida with maman and was a great trans-Atlantic traveller on a Scotland trip when he just turned 1. He’s got his traveling chops, the bona fides, the seal of approval.

Tomorrow Noah-David is going to school with Granpapa Raymond. It’s a special day for the kids - end of year - with acrobats, jugglers and no end of fun, The next day he goes with la tante TiTi. Her school is having a special visit with firemen. He’s really hit the jackpot and what’s more he’ll be visiting la tante Danielle and her horses. And let’s not forget the little one. Granpapa Raymond and Granmaman Nicole have been reunited with the new, improved Neliie-Rose. More on this in a later post.

We chatted tonight on the phone and tomorrow we’ll skype and see. Tonight I’m too tired to miss them. Tomorrow the house will be so empty.

Une bonne idée - a good idea - appeared on the scene within the last 3 weeks. It’s an expression that has become quite au courant in our household. Noah-David has generated sufficient bonnes idées within the last couple of weeks to single-handedly fuel several editions of the Nobel prizes.

Frequently, the good ideas being churned out of our son’s playful idea factory are qualified by one, or multiple “verys”. This is quite useful in helping to determine Noah’s doggedness and tenacity as a young creator in pursuing said bonnes ideés. Like elsewhere in life ideas come and go but usually the very, very, very, very good ones are here to stay.

These good ideas speak to a pick up in tempo in Noah’s cognitive abilities. Language acquisition is accelerating again much as I wrote about last August in Frog’s Out of the Box. Now the building blocks are small sentences and the architecture is becoming simultaneously more solid and complex, exploring and creating more frequently in the conceptual world.

The good ideas come in 2 broad and sometimes linked categories. The first consists of those ideas that require maman, or papa to play with, or set up play for, Noah-David - bubbles for instance are always a good idea. The second category is ideas as a bridging mechanism - a means to move from an undesirable situation to one that is more palatable. Examples would include “good ideas” that would be instrumental in delaying nap or bedtime or getting dismissed from the dinner table without having finished the meal. These ideas generally present an alternate, substitute activity and often are not quite as brilliant as our young Einstein may have thought.

June 7 - First Five Good Ideas (posted as they’re presented to us)

1. At 9h30 this morning the good idea was to have papa and maman drive papa’s 17-year-old daughter to work but beforehand to take out his dumptruck and some other favourite toys. He would stay behind to look after Nellie. This was an alternative to him accompanying papa for the drive.

2. Just before lunch Noah-David got a little pee spot on the front of his pants. Instead of clothes change his good idea was to lie on the home office’s carpeted floor in a pool of sunshine to dry the wet spot and then head outside again to play.

3. Early evening out in the backyard the good idea is, a ball for Noah, a ball for me - we sit up on the upper deck and roll the balls down the ramp to the lower deck. The ball that goes the farthest wins.

4. Just a bit later than the previous good idea. This time we hide and scare maman and Nellie-Rose when they come back from the groceries. We make our hideout crouched down behind one end of the front porch and lazily watch the world go by on the street. A good idea indeed but we were unable to maintain the element of surprise as it kind of leaked out in a constant, barely muffled belly jiggle giggle as soon as maman shut the car door.

The ultimate affirmation from Noah indicating we have a meeting of the minds is when he looks up at me with his beautiful, brown eyes and says in either a confidential, or an excited tone, depending on the occasion - “papa, c’est une très bonne idée“. I affirm Noah a lot in his presentation of good ideas just as my parents did with me. Good ideas are an exciting development for our lad and although their frequency may vary over the years, it’s great to know they’re here to stay.