stories told

I remember being told that kids get really interesting after they begin talking. I did not believe it, though. I enjoyed every stage of Kaspar’s growth. But now, when I’m faced with a six month old and a two/almost three year old, I’m beginning to see what they were talking about. It’s much more fascinating to follow the daily events of an almost three year old then those of a six month old baby. After all, how much can I talk about her drooling, teething, sucking on her toes and so on? Kaspar on the other hand is full of surprises and NEVER ending chatter.

The other day I opened my email to find a handful of fire truck pictures for Kaspar from his grandparents. He climbed into my lap and we did not stop looking at them until the laptop finally ran out of juice and even then I had to deal with heartfelt tears. Kaspar has the wildest imagination. One or two pictures of his liking are often enough to spark questions that in return will begin an entire story in his little head. And the questions he asks are not of the easy sort. I often find myself speechless, looking for a good answer and while I wait trying to figure out a good reply, he just continues with the same question... repeating it over and over again, as thought to help me understand it better or something. It’s a strange quirk. But I think that most kids his age like to repeat questions. I know that some of my friends have complained about the “why? Why? Why?” period in their toddlers’ lives. Kaspar has not taken to the simple “why?” question. His ‘why?’s are much more complicated. Take for instance the fire truck pictures. He asks sort of like this: “If this really is a parade, and I think you’re wrong mommy, then there should have been a Santa Claus or some elves somewhere or at the very least balloons. They don’t make parades without balloons or elves. I know! I’ve been to parades. Remember? Remember? Remember?” And even though I try to tell him that I know he’s been to the Santa Claus parade his “Remember?” keeps coming until I do remember, yes, St. Patrick’s day parade or as he likes to call it the parade with the green elves and clowns. But before I finish a sentence he’s already flying : “So, if it’s not a parade then why would all the fire trucks be on grandpa’s street? Maybe there was a fire in the next building? Or maybe there was one in their building? Maybe even a small fire in their apartment.....?” And you can just tell that the drama is beginning to build, regardless of my answers to his questions, he’s already begun his story. His eyes are shining; he speaks a little faster, a little hurried. He leans in to the computer a little and continues: “Maybe, MAYBE... grandma left some matches on the counter (he has just learned about match safety, because here a lot of people have gas stoves that have to be lit with a match!) and some little boy came into the kitchen and took the matches and all of a sudden one match lit up and then one more and OH BOY, I think that boy is going to get into trouble! Isn’t he? Isn’t he? Isn’t he? Isn’t he? Isn’t he?” Eventually his story took us back to the firemen having to drive up grandma’s street and save the burning kitchen and grandma being very thankful... and the firemen having to wash their dirty trucks... etc. etc.

It’s interesting, though, that he is very aware of it being a fictional story. If I was to ask a day later what the story was about the trucks and grandma’s place, he’d more than likely just look at me perplexed and confused. He seems to create these stories in the moment and leave them just as fast behind. And all of them start with a very, very exaggerated “MAYBE...” I love listening to him tell the stories and sometime even help him along by carefully interjecting a little detail or two that take him in a new direction. It’s amazing with how much detail a three year old child is able to tell a story! They’re sometimes way better then the published stories in children’s books. If he continues like this then by the time Stella is ready for bedtime stories I won’t have to tell them myself. I’ll have a way better storyteller in the house... Ha!

not so very sick

Well, Saturday sale was not meant to be for me. Even though I was feeling much better, Stella came down with fever on Thursday night and I ended up staying home with her on Friday as well as today just to make sure the fever is over and done with. Like most baby fevers it came and went over the course of about 8-12 hours and I’m clueless as to what caused it. Since she has not had any of mine or Kaspar’s symptoms, I’m guessing that she might have had something as insignificant as teething fever. Who knows? She has been teething during the course of the last week, that’s for sure. We travel with 5-10 shirts and/or bibs everywhere we go. It does not take much more than 15 minutes for the entire front of her shirt, from neck to waist to be soaked through. Maybe she’s caught a cold because of it. Ha! What does it matter, really? I’m just glad that she’s better and Kaspar is on the mend, as well, and I’m getting better if ever so slowly, too. Thanks for all the good energy!

I was talking to a Toronto pal yesterday and we were comparing notes on laryngitis infections, common colds, flu and remedies of all sorts ... and ... it made me realize once again how much of what we do is influenced by the way we’ve been brought up and the way we are used to solving problems. Do I sound profound? Ha! Not really where I meant to go. However, our conversation sparked an interesting train of thought... bare with me for a moment...

Most people go to see a doctor as soon as they get sick and most doctors will prescribe a medication of some sorts to heal the ailment, whatever it may be. Most of the medications in their list of contents have things that are completely foreign to us, at times even unpronounceable chemicals and drugs that we have never heard of. Yet, we wholeheartedly trust that this medication will make us better, because the doctor said so. Or maybe it’s because we paid a plump sum of money for the drug at the pharmacy? Whatever the reason, but generally we’ll trust the drug. Ok, you might argue that this is a simplified version of the truth, but you can relate to it as truth generally speaking, right?

On the other hand, if I told you to put a hot (well, let me correct myself, very warm – so that you don’t burn yourself!) baked onion on your ear for about four hours to heal an awful earache, you’d probably roll your eyes and not really want to take me seriously. Most people don’t. Yet, I’ve grown up on healing wisdom like that. I’ve used it and know that it works, at times even better then the drugs. I don’t know why it works, but it works. Perhaps the reason why we have not found a cure for cancer or aids is strictly based on money? Sounds like some crazy conspiracy theory? No! But think about it ... If people invested the millions of dollars that are being invested in research of drugs and chemicals, instead in researching commonly known herbs, fruits and vegetables that are known to have healing properties, then maybe we’d know why a baked onion can heal an earache faster than any drug will. Maybe we’d also know a lot more about the healing properties of that onion, ginger, lemon etc. But why would a company invest money in something like that? They cannot make big bucks selling onions. Of course not! So, I figure it’s only logical to give every home remedy a try before going for the hard core drugs, because an onion is not just a part of your daily vitamin C intake. That’s only scratching the surface of it. Medicine has its place, no doubt about it. But first we should all take the onion seriously!

Hanging out with some older folk in my family, talking about their memories of times past and seeing my grandparents homestead again has made me, once again, want to write down all these little wisdoms that come from within, that come from a time when we were simpler yet wiser as a human kind.

Maybe one day I’ll post a handful of my family’s recipes for well being on the blog. Or publish a book. Or just keep them in a dusty box under my desk and take a peak once in a while when fighting another nasty bout of laryngitis. In either case I’m glad to have my little box of treasures!