I call it fake, because Canadian Thanksgiving feels fake to me. It's way too early. There's no football on TV. And it's on a Monday.
But my husband is Canadian. I am actually Canadian (I say half). And it is a real holiday.
A 4-day holiday weekend this year because Friday was a PA day. There's nothing better than a PA day with 3 little boys...except when you forgot it's a PA day. Yay!
Thursday is the only weekday the big boys don't have something after school. So we hopped on our scooters down to Bloor Street because I wanted to hit the Farmer's Market. Except the Farmer's Market is on Wednesdays. Yay!
I was bummed because Steve and I are trying our hardest to be vegans. Not for ethical-ness or weight loss, but just general body-working-and-feeling-better. Which is happening. So I'm on the wagon.
I was craving an heirloom tomato. Not like I crave a greasy burger or all cheese. But as much as one can crave a vegetable. I am doing well with the 90/10 rule, meaning cream in my morning coffee and maybe a random cheese cube off a kid's plate to get me through the day.
Then this happened.
Nuno is our Portuguese contractor. He is an amazing contractor (I highly recommend him) and a great person. Even more great because of cheese.
So this was dinner on Friday night. It was gone in 27 seconds. Sorry, veganism.
But the sun rose the next day and we had to run these kids out.
I can't do the pose for pictures with my kids. The chances that one in three will do this is too high. And it's always the same kid.
This was the 2nd time we went to the Crawford Lake Conservation area along the Bruce Trail. It's the only "stroller friendly" trail which is perfect for a 2.5 year old who refuses to ride in a stroller.
We only had to trade off carrying him back to the car for the last 1/2 hour. Which was after we followed a trail that wasn't marked on the map and I thought we were going to die overnight in the forest while the hawks were circling above us. The dying part didn't happen, but the hawks did and that was enough for me.
Getting to the holiday part. Steve went in early to the office to get some work done. I slept in due to food coma from yesterday's spread with Canadian family. I woke to this.
I heard all of it being set up. This newly open concept house has no secrets. But to see it was amazing. Who are these little people and what have you done with my real children?
I kept George's mantra, "I big boy!" going and asked the eldest to take out the green bin, the recycling and the garbage. He did it. But got green bin juice on him. After I told him he had to clean it off or he might die, I found this.
That is a wet bath mat in front of a running shower. With just-stepped-out-of underwear on the floor. He is 7-1/2. Really?
Slow it. All. Down.
Happy Fake Holiday!