Monday, June 14, 2004


I took Helena to the pediatrician for her regular check-up on Friday. For those of you keeping track: 13 kg, 85 cm, makes Helena a big little girl. She's healthy, but drinks too much milk.

A little girl in the waiting room took a toy out of Helena's hands and walked away. The girl's mother was around the corner. I didn't do a thing, and I feel awful about it. I'd hate for my daughter to grow up to be a pushover.

The pediatrician's office is on a stretch of St Laurent that for some reason was closed to traffic. Restaurants and bars spilled out into the street. Our walk home was a real zigzag. Some idiot was walking his young cat on a leash down St Denis. A major part of Mont Royal was also closed to traffic. The mood in the streets is very festive, seemingly for no other reason than that summer is here. God I love this neighbourhood.

Our playground is a friendly place, where lots of toddlers experiment with other toddlers' toys. The other day, a little girl asked to use Helena's pail and shovel, which were sitting unused. I said no, as we were planning on leaving in a minute, and instead pointed out the ownerless pile of communal equipment. The little girl picked up Helena's stuff anyway. This pissed me off no end. The girl's mother intervened, but I was galled that my "no" should be ignored.

I guess I have a lot of awkward social negotiations ahead of me yet.

I spent Saturday in bed, thanks to the better (worse, really) part of a bottle of a wine I drank the night before. For one brief moment, I wished we had a house in the suburbs, with a yard we could let Helena loose in where we could watch her from the door. Thankfully, the moment passed.

Election placards around here are being literally defaced — heads removed in triangle cutouts. We live in Gilles Duceppe's riding, one of those seats so strongly held as to make you feel for a moment that your vote won't make a difference.

Helena continues to make a difference, everywhere she goes. New words this last week, lifting our hearts: "tink you," belly-button (which comes out garbled in various configurations but has an undisputed reference point), and "home."

1 comment:

Miriam Jones said...

I also find interacting with other children very awkward when there is any kind of discipline involved. Luckily most children at this age are never far from a parent.

It is such a touchy issue. Even our best friends -- the people we plan to make our son's guardian if we ever get moving on making our wills (I know, I know) -- are reluctant to offer Alex any correction, or if they do, they apologize to us. And we are the same with their kids. Not that I would change that; I think in this case it is better to be too careful, than the other way around.

Congrats on Helena's clean bill of health. Alex apparently drinks too much milk, too. But how can I stop him? It feels wrong to offer him sweet juice instead. And now the little bum is going to the fridge himself and wrestling out the milk jug.