Daily Bike Rides Part 1 - Our New Trike

We've recently started a routine of going on a family/community bike ride about 5 times a week.  Part of what mad this possible was the fact that my youngest brother bought himself an adult tricycle; he's never much liked 2-wheeled bikes, and he finally found a bike shop nearby that sells these trikes.  Now, most of us can go for our bike ride.

He loves his new trike and usually leads the pack, going down the trail well ahead of the rest of us, sometimes doubling back, other times taking a break at some of the scenic areas along the way.  We're glad that he can join us, and glad to see him so happy!

My brother on his trike

More to come about our daily bike rides.

Toilet Training a 6-Month-Old

I would’ve never imagined that a six-month-old could begin toilet training, until, on the advice of my mom, my wife and I started toilet training our baby who is was just over 5 months old at the time.  It works like this:

• Whenever you check the diaper, and it’s dry, you hold the baby over the toilet.  With any luck, he’ll go pee.
• If you check the baby’s diaper after a long nap or just any long period, it’s wet, but you suspect it’s been wet for a while, you hold him over the diaper to go pee.

Surprisingly, it was successful!  Even more surprisingly, we’ve had the following results:

• The baby has started waiting to go pee until he’s over the toilet! Not every time, of course, but about 4 times a day.
• Sometimes, he “tells” us by making a worried face, wining and waving his arms (again, this is only sometimes.)
• Two or three times now, he’s woken up to “tell” us he has to go pee; one night he started wining, so I warmed up the bottle, but he didn’t want it.  I checked his diaper, it was dry.  So took him to go pee, and he went back to sleep immediately.  All he wanted was to go pee.
• He almost always makes his bowel movements on the toilet (I’d say 90% of the time.)  He’ll “tell” us by making a scrunched up face, looking at my wife and grunting.  He always waits until we have him over the toilet.  Only once, when we were in a car and couldn’t get him to a toilet, he started crying and finally went in his diaper.

It seems that our baby at this age already understands that having a wet or dirty diaper is uncomfortable, and prefers to avoid it.  He knows how to communicate distinct needs to some extent.  I think it also helps that we praise him a lot for it; he always gets a proud smile on his face looking at us, clearly waiting for his praise.

Back to the Fields – Picking Garlic Scrapes

I've always wondered what it is like for families coming from other countries that do temporary field work on top of their regular jobs to help get ahead in their new home; many Mexican immigrants, among others, have experienced this.  Here in Ontario, many "Mexican Mennonites" who have arrived from Mexico over the past decade participate in this kind of activity, bringing their whole family out to the fields.
Two days ago, my wife and I decided to try it out for ourselves (we don't bring the kids along.)  The job we found, through our neighbours, was picking the tops off garlic plants; after I finish my day's work on the computer, we drive out and start the field work.
The hardest part about this job is bending over.  You half to walk along the rows of garlic, snapping off the tops.  The second hardest part is that the juice from the plant burns, especially if it gets between your nails.  Today, the only pain I feel is in my thumb nails; or perhaps it's just that the pain is so sharp that I don't feel the rest of it.
Both evenings we've been there, we go with neighbours, and see other families show up.  The kids run along the rows breaking off the tops almost as fast as I do; it's easier in a way since they don't have to bend over.  Apparently some families, eager to earn money, started taking their kids during the day, instead of sending them to school.  The farmer realized what was happening and started sending families away if they showed up with kids during school hours.  (The work is come-and-go as you please - you just have to ask him where to work when you show up, and report what you've done when you leave.)  I'm really happy that he made that decision.  It's good to see that at least one person values education over quick cash.  He pays decently as well.
This isn't the first time I've done work like this, but it's the first time seeing families work like this together. My parents always told me about it (they had to do it when they arrived from Mexico as kids.)  It's a new experience.  For me it's not quite the same since it's not out the same pure necessity that the other families have.  But at least I can see it, feel it, and do it, first hand.

Learning to Ride a Bike – A Father’s Day Gift

This Father’s Day was very special for me since I had the joy of helping my son to ride a bike for the first time.  A while back, I put up a post about the day my son first rode a tricycle, which was in Mexico (My son learns to pedal a trike!).  Now, this next step of learning to ride a two-wheeled bike was here in Canada.

My goal for the day was to have him try to ride the bike without training wheels at least once (with help of course.)  This was too ambitious, and my son simply didn’t want to.  But by the end of the day he was confidently riding the bike with training wheels, moving ahead at a good speed and using the back-pedal brakes.  I’m proud of him.

Ontario’s Cottage Country

 

(Written May 21) I believe that today the first time I’ve been back to Southern Ontario’s cottage country since I first went to Mexico 4 and a half years ago.  It’s as beautiful as I remember it!  The winding roads, the forests of rugged pines, and tall spruce, the hills and stony cliffs, and, of course, the many beautiful, small lakes.

As I sit here on a deck overlooking one of these lakes watching the lights of the cottages turn on as the sun sets over the trees, and shores become dark, I realize I still love this part of Ontario, just as many other Ontarians do.  There’s only a few sounds; the water lapping against the small, wooden boat dock, the chirping of a bird now and then, and even the call of the loon.

It’s a part of the world that I miss, and I hope to bring my wife and children some time soon.

Renovation, the Canadian Way

My brother, myself and my dad, hanging drywall

In Mexico, drywall, wooden beams and insulation have nothing to do with house construction or renovation.  Here's a picture of my father, my brother and me working to hang drywall on a ceiling of a room that we're renovating.  My wife, who took the picture was fascinated by all of this stuff, and by seeing me with a drill in my hands doing renovation work; I'm not the do-it-yourself sort when it comes to home renovations, whether the Canadian style or Mexican style, so the rare chance to see me do this stuff was a delight for her.

Growing Up in Story Book

When my wife first got to know me, to her I looked like Tom Sawyer – or at least the way she imagined Tom Sawyer.  I think she imagined me as a boy, running around in a picturesque little town, barefoot wearing denim overalls and messy, curly red hair - like in story book.

Visiting, and now living, in Canada has only confirmed her imagination.  Seeing the Mennonites’ horses and buggies, rustic bicycles with large baskets leaning up against old, red-brick store buildings (without locks) and the little red-haired, freckled children (to her, we all look like we have red or blond hair) run around in the large, open, fence-less grassy spaces of our village has made her more convinced than ever that I grew up in a story book.  I didn’t grow in the village where we live now, but my hometown (Elmira) is still small, and to her still looks like it’s from a story book.

When I tell her that this is just normal life in these towns (until the kids become teens), and those who live here find nothing romantic about it, it again reinforces her suspicions; only those who grew up in a story book wouldn’t find it romantic - just like her grandparents, aunts and uncles find nothing romantic about growing up in an adobe house with a mud floor in Mexico’s isolated hills.  As you can tell from my blog posts (see “Grandpa”), I also think that their life was charming.

I haven’t yet been able to convince my wife that I wasn’t Tom Sawyer at some point during my childhood.