Last days and runaways

Juniper posing with Linden and Daisy the Doll on her last day of school

This past week simultaneously marked Juniper's last week of Kindergarten (!), and Linden's day care provider's vacation week.  It was, therefore, a wee bit hectic.

The "dress and skirt" combo is one of Juniper's signature favourites

Spending a full-on week with Linden, while trying to maintain this whole "no more naps" thing taught me a few important tidbits.

1) It is important (*vitally* important) to get Linden out of the house as soon as possible in the morning, and to do something active.  This works out best if we choose something where we are both active.  Sometimes this means taking him with me to the gym (he runs around the daycare while I work out), but even more fun is going on a bike ride/run.  I get a major workout trying to keep up with Linden, and he has a ball flying around on his bike.  Two or three times we got Clark to drive to work, and then we made the focus of our exercise a trip to go get the car.  As an added bonus, there is some crazy construction going on right beside Clark's building these days, complete with every sort of truck and digger and crane imaginable, and a whole lot of dynamite blasting.  Does it get more exciting than that?

Walking the tracks mid-biking adventure

2.  It is important (*even MORE vitally important*) to plan for some at-home "quiet time" when Linden would normally nap.  I have tried to push these boundaries more than once, with the thought that if we are skipping nap, I might as well take advantage of not being constricted by strict time lines.  This has resulted in a number of gaffs - some loud and unpleasant crankiness in stores, Linden falling asleep on the way home from somewhere, etc.  Last week, however, I saw the full extent of the afternoon twilight zone.  I decided we'd head to the library to sign up for our Ontario library cards.  We were there for awhile, read a bunch of books, and all was going well.  When it came time to do all the signing up for stuff, however, Linden started getting restless.  The librarian gave him some books to look at.  That worked for awhile, until he noticed some DVDs, and began opening cases and twirling them around.  "No, Linden!" I admonished, but the librarian said "no, no - don't worry - he can't hurt anything.  Let him explore! "  Literally 10 seconds later, I looked over, and he was gone.  "well he can't have gotten very far", the librarian laughed.  Oh, so very wrong.  I happened to glance out the window, and there was a flash of orange shirt running at top speed up a grassy hill.  Linden had escaped through a side door (which should have, incidentally, set off an alarm), and managed to bolt far enough away that by the time I got outside, I could barely see him.  Terrifying?  Um, yes.  We will be safely at home from now on, I think.

A few bug bites, and Linden looks like he was on the wrong side of a fist fight

 And finally, I will end with the bird house saga.  Shortly after Clark hung his father's day birdhouse on the fence, it became clear that there was one particularly gluttonous black squirrel helping himself to all the seed, and spilling half of it on the ground.  Clearly, something needed to be done.  So we all trooped off to the hardware store, and came back with a couple of 2x4s and some aluminum flashing.  Clark and Linden then rigged up this little beauty of a contraption:

The new and improved bird feeder - and if you look closely, a BIRD!

More than just making the bird house shiny and space-aged, it has also proved incredibly effective so far at keeping this squirrel at bay.  It has also, as you shall see, provided endless entertainment.

And finally,  another little video montage from the week.  One of our rainy day nature (ie, puddle) walk, and another of Juniper composing a piece. We were all down in the basement one afternoon - I was sewing, Linden was playing with his trains, and Juniper, all on her own, got a pen and paper, and sat down to compose a piece at the piano.  No prompting from me, and no help, either.  She reminds me a *little* of me at that age.