Turning Two

Today is Liam’s second birthday.

Here’s a brief account of his birth, which I wrote for his baby book:

On Friday, September 3^rd, Daddy and I were watching a movie at the Baker’s when I started to have regular contractions. We went back to Mamma & Papa’s after the movie and went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I got up and paced downstairs, keeping track of the frequency and duration of each contraction. Sometime after midnight, I decided it was time to go to the hospital. I got Daddy up and we drove to the Montfort. It was a very uncomfortable drive!

When we arrived at the hospital, the nurse told us I could not be admitted, because I was only dilated to 1cm. We didn’t want to go all the way back to Embrun, so we snuck into Great-Grandma’s house while she was sleeping. In the morning, she was surprised to see visitors in her house!

I only slept from about 5-7am on Saturday morning, so I was very tired that day. The contractions had kept me up all night, but slowed down during the day. Nana & Papa and some other members of Daddy’s family were in town and we had plans to go out for dinner with them that evening. Nothing seemed to have progressed, so we met them at their hotel as planned, and walked together to a nearby Italian restaurant for a lovely meal. My contractions started up again around 5pm, and by the time dinner was over, things seemed to be in full swing. I had to stop talking and focus on my breathing during each one, which made me hopeful that this was the real thing! We said goodbye to everyone right after dessert and went back to Great-Grandma’s where I could be more comfortable while we waited for you. We watched Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, and when it ended, I decided it was time to make another trip to the hospital.

To my great disappointment, I still couldn’t be admitted! I had labored for so long and nothing had changed! The nurse gave me some medicine to help me sleep, and Daddy took me back to Great-Grandma’s, tired and tearful. I did manage to sleep for a few hours, but was awoken again by contractions. I decided to draw a bath, and spent several hours in Great-Grandma’s tub.

On Sunday morning, I called Mamma & Papa and asked them to come to Great-Grandma’s to be with us. They came after church and made a nice breakfast, but I couldn’t eat anything. I was still in the tub at that point, but decided that if I didn’t get out then, you might just be born right there! So I mustered all my strength and courage, and Daddy and I made our third trip to the hospital, just after noon. This time we stayed.

By the time we got to our hospital room, I was at 4cm. I was so tired and the contractions so painful that I decided to have an epidural. The anesthesiologist happened to be available right then, so I was quickly made more comfortable. When the pain went away I was able to get some much-needed rest.

I slept on and off for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Nana & Papa came in for a short visit, and Daddy stayed by my bedside to keep me company. Sometime in the evening, I started to feel pain again. The anesthesiologist came back to give me a boost of medicine, but the pain stayed.

Finally, it was time for you to come. I pushed and pushed, hoping that you would come out quickly! When your head came out, the doctor saw that your umbilical cord was around your neck, so he cut it right away. A couple more pushes and you came sailing out, at 12:52am on Monday, September 6^th. It happened so fast that it seemed to me you had flown right up into the doctor’s arms! You were immediately taken by the nurses, who had to check your lungs. Daddy and I waited and waited to hear you cry, holding our breath until we heard your voice. Then a nurse brought you to me and I saw your precious little face for the very first time. I felt so much love for you!

You had to go to another room then, so that the nurses could monitor your breathing, but they soon brought you back so that I could feed you. You latched on well – I was so proud of you! When you had eaten, they took you again, and finally brought you back to me around 5am on Monday morning. Daddy and I were so happy to see you and excited to finally start getting to know this beautiful little boy God had given us.

Day 1

As I await the birth of our second child, I can’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia at the close of these two years of belonging only to Liam. He will no longer be an only child, absorbing all the love and attention his Mommy and Daddy have to offer. Part of me worries that I’ll miss him – that my focus on the new baby will mean overlooking the wonderful little things about my first-born that now hold me spellbound… I’m sure that once James is born, I will realize how silly this concern is. Of course I’ll have enough love for both of them! Love is expansive, and grows to meet the need. No doubt these feelings will pass as soon as I hold my new baby in my arms and realize that my heart has grown more than I could have imagined. I suppose, then, the best way to channel what I’m feeling at the moment is to cherish these last few days of Liam’s only-childhood and give thanks for the boy who first made me a mother. 

4 months

12 months

20 months

23 months

Liam's Birthday Party

Photos courtesy of Jenna Gernon

Liam’s birthday is on September 6^th, but we chose to celebrate early this year, given his little brother’s imminent arrival. We threw a party on Saturday, September 1^st, attended by grandparents, great-grandparents, aunt, uncles, cousins, godparents, old friends and new friends. The party was our first opportunity to host such a large group in our new home (about 25 people), and both Brendan and I considered it to be a great success. It was fun to have a house full of people – to look around at various moments throughout the afternoon and see one smiling face after another. Liam seemed to enjoy himself too. He was revved up by the company of other kids, but not to the point of acting crazy or having a fit. A few times I noticed him pull away from all the activity to push his little cars along the edge of the sofa, as he does when he’s home alone with me. I took this to be an indication that although he enjoys being sociable, he needs a few moments of quiet every once in a while to regroup.

My favourite moment of the party was watching my boy beam as we sang Happy Birthday and brought him cupcakes. I didn’t expect him to realize we were singing to him, but he did. He stood on a chair at the table, smiling broadly, eyes alight with anticipation of dessert. I also enjoyed opening gifts with him and seeing the other kids swarm the tissue filled bags, eager to show Liam the things they were giving him. Once the gifts were open upstairs, we brought everyone down to the basement, where our gift to Liam – a train table – was set up. Brendan had covered the table with a sheet and once Liam came down, we unveiled it in front of him. He immediately knew what to do – the idea of the gift came from our many trips to Mrs. Tiggy Winkle’s to play with the train table there. The other kids didn’t skip a beat – within seconds they were all crowded around the table playing with the trains and trucks.    

The house was quiet again before 9pm, and with Liam sound asleep and Brendan out to see a friend’s band, I had some time to myself before going to bed. I took the opportunity to jot down a few notes about Liam in his notebook and start a new one for James. These two years have gone by so quickly, and now my baby is about to become a big brother… I can’t wait to see him begin this new chapter of his life!  

Resistance Training

Liam is growing a will. And with judgment and maturity acquired over nearly two whole years of life, he now wishes to assert himself. Enter Toddling Tyrant.

Yesterday he made it his mission to oppose me at every turn. He began the day by waking up at 5:30 with his grouch face on. Later in the morning, I thought he might like to go to the park, but he wanted to drive his ride-on trucks through the neighbour’s garden instead. When we finally did set out for the park, he wanted to change course before we got there and walk towards the busiest street in town. I insisted on the park and he ran around whining.

As I sat on a swing watching Liam wrestle with his bad mood, it occurred to me that motherhood is something like resistance training. The surest way to build muscle is to exercise it against some kind of resistance – our bodies become stronger when faced with an opposing force. Listening to my two-year-old whine, I couldn’t help but feel tired of being opposed. Then I realized that motherhood constantly pits a woman against an opposing force… or two, or many… Toddler wills become child wills, which evolve into teenage wills (the most pernicious of all!) – and as a child grows, he tests the substance of his individuality against his parents, resulting in opposition. I couldn’t help but sigh at the thought of this. I imagined myself a few years down the road with a house full of kids, throwing myself on my bed and lamenting, “Why can’t they just do what I say?!” But just as resistance training is good for muscles, I think it’s also good for the soul. If patience and generosity always came easily, would I really grow into a truly patient and generous person? I have to sweat it out in the gym of parenthood to bulk up my virtues. Someone who is effortlessly virtuous is kind of like those skinny-fat people – the ones who don’t put on weight, so they look reasonable fit, but they’re actually kind of soft and flabby. I want to have a robust character, not a skinny-fat one. And so the resistance is good for me, even though it’s hard. It’s good for Liam too, to be faced with opposition from me – we strengthen each other, soften each other’s rough edges, and learn how to live harmoniously by sometimes doing battle.

Fortunately for me, last night Brendan and I had planned a date. I gleefully drove Liam to his Auntie Liz and Uncle Chris’, where he behaved like an angel (my mom had warned me that kids often save their worst behaviour for their parents – aren’t we lucky?!). B and I enjoyed a great evening together, and as we drove back to pick up our boy, I found myself looking forward to scooping his sleepy little self into my arms. He may spend a large portion of his growing up life opposing me, but I’m willing to undergo the training so that I can always be strong enough to love him anyway.  

Displaying his persistent will to go outside...

If Mom won't help me with my shoes, I'll put them on myself!

Visitors from Abroad

Among the many great gifts we received from our Marshall Adventures Abroad (as this blog was originally titled), the friendships we forged along the way remain preeminent. Last summer, we had the good fortune of meeting up with Ian and Elanor, an American couple who were our neighbours in Scotland and who happened to be visiting family in Maine while we were on holiday in New Brunswick. We spent a couple of days together, picking up where we left off in Scotland, as though no time had passed in the narrative of our friendship.

This summer, another friendship begun in Scotland saw its continuation on this side of the pond. Chris, a former classmate of Brendan’s, along with his girlfriend Alexandra, came to stay with us. Chris is Italian and Alex is Swiss-American. They were vacationing together in Vermont with the American side of her family, and decided to take a short trip up north to visit us. It was great to see Chris again and to meet Alex. Chris remarked when he arrived that people who make friends abroad often say, “You should come visit my home!” but it rarely happens – we were fortunate to fall outside that norm.

Our guests arrived last Saturday afternoon and left for New York City on Monday morning. It was a quick but memorable visit, complete with a tour of downtown Ottawa, good conversation, great meals, and of course, scotch, which Chris had brought from Stirling for Brendan. We parted ways having very much enjoyed our weekend, and hoping to find ourselves again under the same roof somewhere down the road.  

In the Peace Tower, Parliament Hill

Granny's 80th Birthday

My dad’s mom turned 80 on August 8^th. To celebrate the occasion, the Cogan clan gathered at Jennifer (my dad’s sister) and José’s house in Montreal. We were all there, save three cousins (two of whom were in other parts of the country and one overseas), which is a special occurrence in a large family. We congregated in Montreal on the afternoon of Saturday, August 18^th and shared a fantastic meal, orchestrated principally by Granny’s two daughters, Jennifer and Brenna. After dinner we gathered in the living room and my dad, the family orator, delivered a simple but meaningful tribute to his mom. To honour her, he compiled a list of titles which represented her many qualities and talents, including devoted wife and mother, thoughtful neighbour, seamstress, swim instructor, ringer of the dinner time cowbell, etc. The list stirred up memories in all of us – things we associate with Granny without even realizing it. The atmosphere of appreciation in the room reminded me of how important a mother really is to all members of her family. She binds them together, and her qualities, character, talents, and values make an impact on all of them. Granny did not (and still doesn’t) set out to impress people with her qualities and attributes – she simply did what she thought was best for her family, and what she felt would contribute to everyone’s happiness – but they make an impressive list nonetheless! In her quiet but firm way, she worked together with Grandad to build a solid foundation for her family, pouring herself into her five children, molding them into people of character. I hope that looking around the room that evening, she felt satisfied with the fruit her efforts have born. I sense that Granny genuinely doesn’t realize how important her role has been in her family, but I hope that she was able to perceive, as we acknowledged, confirmed and added to my dad’s list, just how much we love and appreciate her.

Left to right: Chris, Jennifer, Sean, Brenna, Tim
Ian, Mary

After the toast, Jennifer presented Granny with a gift from the family (a beautiful peridot pendant and earrings) and laughter rang out loud and long over a certain Google search undertaken by Brenna about tradition surrounding the August birthstone (those of us who were present will remember well ;). We then enjoyed a delicious red velvet birthday cake and stayed up late talking and laughing. Our hosts had invited us all to spend the night in their spacious home, so we gradually trickled off to bed, until even the most enthusiastic conversationalists (i.e. my husband) decided it was time to retire.

The next day began bright and early for those of us with babies (and for my mom, who has a habit of waking up obscenely early), so we took the little ones outside to avoid waking up the rest of the family. As more and more people emerged from their bedrooms, breakfast was laid out and the previous night’s activity of eating carried on seamlessly. A family photo was taken after breakfast, and then we Marshall’s said our goodbyes. Most of the others stayed for another few hours, and more food was brought out. Hunger is forbidden at family functions!!!

Granny & Grandad's Clan
(photos courtesy of Joel)

A few days later, Granny sent us all a message expressing her gratitude for the event. I’m glad she enjoyed herself so much. It was a great weekend all around, and a pleasure to celebrate someone who means so much to all of us. 

The Cottage

For as long as I can remember, Cumberland Point has been part of the landscape of my childhood. My grandparents acquired the little red farmhouse on Cumberland Point Road when my mom was a child and the family lived in Fredericton. It was already over a hundred years old at the time, and was sold to them by Burtis MacLean, who had purchased it from Archie Reese, who was born there. My parents bought it just before Grandpa passed away, to keep it in the family.

Year after year, we would arrive at the cottage road-worn but happy, to be greeted by hugs and kisses from Grandma and Grandpa Bourassa. We would wake up every morning to the smell of coffee and a bowl of Grandpa’s porridge, then curl up on the Nest to thumb through an old Reader’s Digest for the hundredth time (RD’s from 1995 can still be found on the bookshelf above the Nest). Sometime mid-morning we would make our way to the beach, often staying there all day. Grandpa always had projects on the go, with which my dad helped, and Grandma and Mom looked after meals, which were copious, but we kids spent our days playing. I was always happy when Grandma and Grandpa would come down to the beach, Grandma in her swimsuit and sunglasses and Grandpa in his trunks and unbuttoned Hawaiian t-shirt. I liked knowing that they were taking some time to relax and enjoy the afternoon sun. Sometimes we would have lunch on the beach – I remember one meal during which Baby Leah discovered that sand could be a yummy topping for crackers!

After dinner we would often light a bonfire by the beach, roast marshmallows, and sing songs we learned from Grandma and Grandpa, huddling closer and closer to the fire as the night got cooler. On other nights, we would sit around the table, playing cards and eating popcorn. Sometimes I would lie awake in bed listening to the comforting sound of rain on the tin roof, but most often I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Deep and restorative sleep was a given at the cottage.

Things happen much the same way now as they did then. Grandpa passed away in 2007, and Grandma hasn’t been to the cottage since their last trip together, but I always think of them when I’m there – as I suspect we all do. I can still see nearly eighty-year-old Grandpa on the roof of his shed, working intently, my dad alongside him praying he wouldn’t fall. My dad now follows in Grandpa’s footsteps, seeming to enjoy his holiday all the more when there are jobs to be done.

One of this year's jobs

There are always lots of people at the cottage. Our family alone makes for a good-sized group, and we are often joined by friends, either spending their holidays there or just passing through. This year Liam and I were there with my parents and three brothers, as well as Leah and Chris. Brendan had to go back to work after our time with his family, and the Genest’s had their holiday before ours, but everyone is hoping that next summer will find us all there at once. There’s something about being at the cottage together that strengthens family bonds – perhaps it’s all the time we spend playing and talking and enjoying each other’s company, away from the things that demand attention in our respective homes. The cottage houses many fond memories for all of us and being back every summer reminds us of shared laughs and meaningful moments.

This year's Clampet picture, before B left (taken by Dad)

The first of many rounds of Settlers of Catan

The Nest

Pat learning to water ski

For me, the best part of being at the cottage this year was seeing Liam enjoy the place I grew up loving. After having gotten used to the beach in Aylmer and at Bay du Vin, he felt immediately at home on Grand Lake. He also enjoyed swimming with his special new floatie (which I would highly recommend to any parents of toddlers!). He seemed very confident in the water and swam all the way out to the raft with me several times. When he wasn’t on the beach, he was playing up at the cottage, running around with his auntie and uncles and lapping up floods of affection. 

I’m so glad that summers at Cumberland Point will begin to populate the memories of my children, marking milestones and defining life’s chapters, as they have for me. 

Cousins

Miss Eloise is a tall and willowy two-year-old with beautiful doe eyes that drink in the world in great gulps. They are luminous, vividly displaying her precocious nature. 

Last summer she wasn’t sure about the bald headed intruder who came to distract the attention of her Mom and Nana. At Christmas, she seemed much more interested in Baby, and enjoyed riding with him in her new red wagon. Her parents tell us she talked about him for months afterwards. Although she knew many other babies, “Baby” had found a special place in her heart. This year Lee-mam and Eloise have become friends. Yesterday they played with trains and blocks and Buster (Eloise’s dog, whom Liam calls Freya, naturally). Eloise showed Liam how she dances in her living room and taught him how to kick down block castles. “Make a castle!” she said. So I did. When it was done, she gracefully thrust her dainty little foot into it. “Eloise kick it down!” she exclaimed triumphantly. Liam laughed. Later that evening, at David & Peggy’s, Peggy made a block castle for Liam. As soon as it was standing, out came the foot, down came the castle!

That's a hug, not a headlock. 

Eloise's camera smile

One of my favourite parts of watching Liam and Eloise together is seeing their dads get right into the mix. Both Brendan and Owen are exceedingly proud of their children and have leapt into fatherhood with great gusto. Brendan becomes like a kid himself around his little guy, mirroring Liam’s delight in games like Jumping on the Bed, Dancing on the Couch, or Running Like a Wild Thing All Through the House (all these games have a certain Daddy-esque quality with which Mommy sometimes feels compelled to interfere – but usually tries to restrain herself. As long as no one is getting hurt, I guess it’s ok!) Owen is equally exuberant in his interaction with Eloise. He is the definition of a Fun Dad, and I suspect that his little girl has just as much of a soft spot in her heart for Daddy as there is in his for her. Watching the four of them laughing and rolling around on the attic bed yesterday made me look forward to meeting the new cousins who will be joining the family in the coming years. It’s exciting to think of how these little people will shape our lives, teach us new roles, and make us into better versions of ourselves.