Category Archives: Potpourri

Nurturing a love of gardening in kids

I have never been much of a gardener. And when I use the term “gardener,” I mean it in the traditional, vegetable sense — someone who grows things like cucumbers and lettuce for consumption. Though we grew a zucchini to gold-ribbon-winning size during our first summer of marriage, the tomatoes and carrots and strawberries we have attempted to nurture in subsequent years have failed to thrive.

Fortunately, we have fared much better planting annuals into containers, and raising children to help with this yearly task.

A pot of dirt itches for little hands.

I’ll admit when they were younger I was loathe to involve the kids in anything involving dirt and water. It was a huge, messy, Jackson Pollock-inspired brown splat-down on the patio after the petunias found a home. But now that Avery can submerge a marigold into soil without prematurely dead-heading it, and Bennett can use a small watering can to water mostly plants (with only the occasional drenching of Crocs and concrete), it’s almost a pleasant experience.

Gardening gloves at least keep the dirt out from under fingernails.

Not only are you beautifying the yard, you’re teaching your children about caring for something. And if they help plant the flowers, you’ll get buy-in — they’ll help water them and dead-head them too.

The best part about planting is watering the end result.

Still, you need to supervise this whole process, or you may end up with all 24 marigolds in one tiny pot, or your son might unceremoniously “plant” a four-pack of snap dragons inside the potting soil bag, or the hose will likely stay on and dribble water onto the wood chips for 30 minutes. (To put these hijinks out of your mind, I highly recommend planting a container with mint. One word: mojitos.)

I’ve been doing the annual flower plant with kids now for six seasons and suggest the following tips to keep them engaged (and you sane):

  • Let them water. So your two-year-old waters the lawn and the rocks. As long as he’s not dumping the can over your head, it’s all good.
  • Let them get their hands dirty. Plan ahead and dress the kids in play clothes and have them wear gardening gloves. They will love it and you won’t worry about them ruining an outfit or catching some weird soil bacteria.
  • Along those lines: banish the mess from your mind. There will be A LOT of loose soil that becomes mud on the patio or deck. Chill. Mix another mojito. You can sweep up the dirt after it dries.

Now, doesn’t that look nice? Do your kids help you “garden”? Do you prefer the process or the end result?

Our gallery wall

My friend and professional photographer Jess Harcombe Fleming took some great candid and posed pictures of our family at Pearce Estate Park and in Fish Creek Provincial Park over two days last fall. Ever since she delivered the prints to our house I’ve been meaning to frame them for a gallery wall.

I finally had an opportunity this weekend. Blake and the kids cleared out to Red Deer and I began crossing things off the never-ending to-do list, including this daunting project.

I’ve always wanted to showcase our best family pictures on a gallery wall. I think I need to add some more in different sizes, from different times and places.

Now, my apologies in advance to my husband. Building a gallery wall is niggly and exacting work, and so there are now many little unsuccessful nail hole attempts hiding behind each photograph. But no one can see them and the end result is a nice start, don’t you think?

The view going up the stairs. Wait a minute … who’s that kid at the top??

I was all set to call it an evening, when this framed photo at the top of the stairs caught my eye:

Sorry boy from Peru, we are going to take you down now.

No, we did not adopt a kid from Peru. This picture was taken years ago near Cuzco and since we had to pay someone for the privelege of capturing the boy on film, he ended up framed and mounted on our wall. Sorry, muchacho, your days as art are over.

Do you have a gallery wall? Is it themed (family, travel) or random?

Fine dining in Banff, with children

Should children be present at a dinner that involves horseradish-crusted lamb shank and white tablecloths? My gut tells me no on this one, and yet, there we were at a fancy round table inside the Terrace Dining Room at the Banff Park Lodge, contemplating whether to order seared scallops with crepes or sablefish a la shrimp. Avery and Bennett, being kids, just wanted French fries.

Bennettt: “Mommy, I won’t eat my fries unless I like the presentation! Now, where’s that tablecloth so I can wipe the ketchup off my face?”

Normally I would leave the kids at home for this type of meal, but we were in Banff for the Rocky Mountain Wine & Food festival, and fancy dinner for the family was on the itinerary. The waitress brought paper and crayons, and Bennett promptly scribbled orange and blue onto the tablecloth (look really hard in the above snap and you’ll be able to see it). After colouring for approximately 30 seconds he asked Blake, “Daddy, where’s iPhone?”

After a palate-cleansing granita, Avery gets back to more interesting pursuits.

In situations like these, it pays to have an iPhone. Better to let the kids zone out playing Angry Birds than repeatedly ask, “When is our food going to come?” or, more to the point, “Where is French fries?” Valid questions, Avery and Bennett (appetizers really do prolong the dining experience when kids are along. And not in a good way). Inexplicably, when the waitress asked me whether I wanted the kids’ meals to come out early or with our entrees, I decided we should all eat together. Parenting fail.

The best part of the dinner was when our server finally brought out the children’s orders. Truly, I have never seen fries served in a separate white porcelain bowl, nor steamed veggies arranged just so, with dipping sauce in a little metal tin. The artistry of their dishes was lost on my kids, who immediately smeared ketchup all over their plates and faces. I cringed inwardly and took a silent moment to appraise my own entree:

Lamb shank on a bed of risotto. Yum.

The dinner was a success, but I’m not sure we’ll be making a reservation for four at Rouge anytime soon — I don’t think they serve fries.

Do you take your little kids out for fancy meals? Success or failure?