go jump in a lake

{this is hard to beat}

When I left work on Friday I thought I was heading into a weekend of thunderstorms and drizzle. Not so, apparently. I'm definitely not complaining! Today was a perfect day to head inland and swim in a lake. My friend recently described herself as an "ocean person" and I tend to categorize myself the same way. Given the choice, I would much rather head to one of our gorgeous local beaches than visit a little old lake. (It isn't fair comparing lakes to the Atlantic ocean is it? It is like comparing a really nice backyard garden to a national park or something.)

There are some notable exceptions to my general "ocean trumps lakes" rule. If the forecasted temperature for the day is in the low-to mid-twenties a lake beats the ocean every time. It is always at least three or four (some times ten) degrees colder by the ocean, which can make for pretty nippy beach time! I have sat on beaches huddled together with my family enough times to know better.

Grand Lake, in Oakfield provincial park, is one of our favourite places to visit in the summer. We have been going since Violet was a baby. There is a huge grassy hill where kids can play and parents can serve sand free lunches (major bonus for borderline OCD mums everywhere). Here are a couple of my favourite pictures from our visit. Way better than sitting on a beach in a hoodie!

xo

Em

{checking out the scene}

{verdict: the scene is awesome}

{this is my man repellant bathing suit**}

{bubbles in the grass}

{brave girl, there is a lot less to be scared of in a lake}

** I am not being self deprecating. Apparently "man repelling" is a when you dress for yourself/ because you think something is stylish as opposed to dressing for a man. This bathing suit is not one of Jeff's favourites. I have a few other items in my closet that I really like, but that always get the thumbs down from my sweet husband (a maxi dress that has been described as "too little house on the Prairie", for instance). Who is up for a girls night where we all wear our most "man repellant"  outfit? What a stylish group we would be!

Check out more on man repelling here: http://www.refinery29.com/the-man-repeller

lebanese festival

In Halifax? No weekend plans?

Get yourself to the Lebanese festival. Make sure you bring your date. If you both eat copious amounts of garlic it doesn't matter right?

Festivals always make me feel like I live in a bigger city than I do, which I really like. I feel the same way when we have to wait to be seated at a restaurant. I know it sounds silly, but I really love it! Maybe it is the small town girl in me. I get a little giddy in a big crowd. I like feeling part of something big.

The hustle and bustle of the festival is great, but let's be honest the food is the real show stopper. Jeff, Vi and I shared a veggie and meat platter -- holy hannah! If you are in Halifax this weekend and in want of some delicious, reasonable priced food head to Cunard and Windsor St. So dang good.

Now get going, there is Za'atar to eat!

xo

Em

{we walked to the Festival - Vi hasn't been in a stroller for at least a year}

{I think she is too big for it}

{lebanese food of the vegetarian variety}

{meat on sticks}

{white men can't jump, but they can lift toddlers really high up in the air}

{cliffhanger} 

{does this not capture what childhood should be like?}

what a relief

I read an article in The New Yorker this week called "Spoiled Rotten: Why do kids rule the roost". Before I continue I want to say that I realize how pretentious that sounds. If it makes you feel better, I have The New Yorker on facebook. I am a very low-brow New Yorker reader.

Anyway, the article explains that (North) American parents try to do so much for their kids that it renders them (the kids that is) incapable of being independent. It was a good read, but the reason I want to share it with you is because of a single sentence. The author of the article interviewed a psychologist who specializes in treating young adults. Here is what she had to say, "Never before have parents been so (mistakenly) convinced that their every move has a ripple effect into their child’s future success". 

Don't re-read what you just read. I meant what I said. I love that sentence. It makes me feel so much better.

Let me explain. Though I am sure on some level I am convinced that my parenting decisions are correlated with Violet's future success I am way more worried about the opposite. I worry continuously (at least continually)  about every parenting misstep I make and how it will negatively affect Violet. 

Take soccer for example. Violet hates it. I obviously don't let her say hate, but it is written all over her face. She cries, she goes boneless, she buries her head in my legs. She told Jeff and I that all the grown ups make her nervous and that she loves soccer in our yard, but she doesn't want to be on her team anymore. My heart tells me we should wait until next year. I don't think she is ready to play a team sport and there is probably little to be gained by torturing her, not to mention Jeff and I, on a weekly basis. But then doubt creeps into my head. If we stop going to soccer are we teaching Violet to be a quitter? Will we be saying to her, "when the going gets tough, just head home"? I don't want to teach her that, but I also don't want her to feel like she has to pretend to like something to make other people, especially her parents, happy. 

Having read the sentence I quoted above I actually feel a little bit better about the whole force Violet to do something she clearly hates vs. teaching her to be a quitter conundrum: it may not matter what we choose. We aren't that important. 

What a relief! 

Violet's future happiness is likely not contingent on our making the right decision about under four soccer. In fact, even if we made the right decision it may not have the desired effect. If I am completely honest I'm not even sure I know what the desired effect is. 

Who knows what we will do about soccer, but at least now I feel a little less pressure. If we let Violet quit soccer she isn't destined to be a beauty school drop out, and if we make her stick with it she may not graduate summa cum laude. Parents are super important, no doubt about it, but thankfully "our every move [doesn't have] a ripple effect into [our] child's future success". Life isn't that straightforward and this time I am grateful for that.

xo

Em

ps -- the hilarious (but only very tangentially related to the content of this post) comic you see above can be found here: http://newyorker.tumblr.com/post/25422731735/cartoon-of-the-day-click-through-to-enter-this

the best strawberry shortcake ever

I just noticed that there is a lot of red, white and blue going on in that picture. I swear it is a coincidence that I am sharing this recipe on the Forth of July. Strawberries are only in season for a short while, and you all know my penchant for stripy blue bowls.

Is that enough apologizing to convince you I am a proud Canadian?

Have you ever used hardboiled eggs in baking before? I haven't, but James Beard, father of American gourmet cooking, (I am obsessed with the US of A today) uses them in his recipe for biscuits. The biscuit recipe is fairly standard (flour, sugar, soda, butter and heavy cream) or at least I thought so until I noticed that it called for boiled egg yolks. I won't lie, it was a little extra work, first boiling the eggs then pushing them through the sieve, but the batter really came together perfectly. I did a quick internet search and noticed that hard boiled eggs are standard in many German and Austrian baked goods. Who knew? Violet ate her weight in egg whites while I painstakingly rubbed egg yolks through teeny metal holes. We know how to have a good time around here.

I have ceramic tile countertops which are the absolute worst for rolling out dough (unless you like eating grout) and so I rolled these out on a large wooden cutting board. I use roll in the loosest sense of the word because really all you do is smoosh the dough down with your hands. My only regret is not letting them bake just a little longer. (I had a very hungry helper who needed to eat and then be bathed before I headed out to meet friends.)

If you are looking for an easy, elegant and maybe even retro dessert don't forget about little old strawberry shortcake. She isn't fanciest, but everyone loves her -- sounds Canadian despite the red, white and blue!

xo

Em

Check out the recipe here: http://food52.com/blog/3564_james_beards_strawberry_shortcakes

Check out a funny article about Canadians' envy of Americans here: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/lets-celebrate-july-4th-by-admitting-americans-have-stuff-that-we-want/article4385643/

one

{first Winter walk}

Since I am almost half way through my 29th year I am very cognizant of my "to do before I am thirty" list. Organizing my photos is something I have been dreading. With over 9000 files spanning four years, to say the task is daunting is an understatement. I am, however, determined to get through it so I am chipping away at it little by little. Tonight I chose the photos I want to print from Violet's first year with us. There are almost 100. Since I know putting all of those pictures on this blog would be overkill (how could anyone not want to see a picture of the first time Violet tried solid food?), I decided to share just the favourite of my favourites.

It was really hard to narrow the field but here are my favourite pictures from Violet's first year of life.

I hope you enjoy them!

xo

Em

{first day}

{first days at home}

{first time in PEI/ heaven on earth}

{first hike with Nana and Papa}

{first visit to Sandwich Point}

{first day at Susie's}

{first, but hopefully not last, time dressing like a Spice Girl}

{Papa's first India visit}

{first hairband}

{first road trip}

{it isn't perfect, but this is our first family picture so I love it}

long weekend photo dump

{playground casual}

We managed to do almost all of my favourite summer things this weekend. We went to the beach every day, we had BBQs, we ate copious amounts of sandy red liquorice (that was just me), and we even got to listen to a newly released version of Graceland -- just when you didn't think it could get any better!

I find it really hard to take good pictures in the bright sun (any tips?), but here are a few of my favourites. They each remind me that summer really is the best of the seasons.

xo

Em

{best friend skipping}

{Lunenburg -ing}

{Summerville dining}

{S'more eating}

{S'more rinsing} 

{heaven gazing} 

{rain dancing/ father-daughter memory making}

knots

{Annapolis Valley berries & fresh whipped cream}

Today someone asked me where I see myself in two years career wise. It felt like a punch to the gut.  My instinct to manage my image immediately took over. What should I say? What would someone who knew exactly what she wanted to be doing in two years say? I should have a well thought out answer for this I told myself. I paused, then stumbled, and finally mentioned something about wanting to work in a creative environment.  That is the best answer I could muster? A creative environment? What does that even mean? My answer was not articulate, which is the worst because I really have thought about this question a lot. The problem is I don't really have an answer.

If someone asked me what I don't want to be doing in two years I would have a better answer. I could wax poetic about what I do not want to be doing for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I feel almost burdened by the amount of choices I have in terms of a career. (I don't use twitter but the hashtag #firstworldproblems springs to mind as I re-read my own prose.) Don't get me wrong, employers are not knocking down my door, but I do believe that in the medium term I could get additional training and pursue any number of career options. I don't want any more options! I just want to do one thing I really love. I just don't know exactly what that would look like.

Is it bad that sometimes I secretly wish someone would tell me "This is what you are good at Emily, this is what you should do for a living. You'll love it, I just know it"? Then I could respond, "do you really think so?". To which they would reply, "I know so, Emily. I know so".

But that is not the way she goes is it?

Instead I will sit here, with fresh strawberries in a bowl, trying really hard to focus on the simple, sweet things in my life, while a knot tightens in my stomach as I think about what I want to be when I grow up.

It is a way harder question to answer when you already are a grown up.

Way way harder.

xo

Em