Dylan, the Recovering Binkie-aholic

Dad, comforting Dylan by napping in the room (and risking getting malaria).
Dylan kicked Wilbur, the pig, out of his bed.

Dylan is a recovering binky-aholic. Here is his story.

About 100 days ago, on Christmas Eve, Dylan got into his pajamas and crawled under his covers. He had visions of sugar plums dancing in his head. He knew Santa would come if he fell asleep, so he kissed Mum and Dad good night, said ‘bonne nuit’ to Laird, and then…. for the last time in his life…. put his binky in his mouth.

What followed was a sound sleep, and a tearful 5 am start to Christmas Day, when he realised that Santa – that hulking, bearded man in the red suit – had taken away all of his binkies.

Every morning, around 5 am, Dylan often stirs as the Call to Prayer echoes throughout our neighborhood.  On this particular Christmas morning, Dylan stirred and looked for his beloved binkie to lull him back to sleep.  Mom and Dad were very strict about his beloved binkie; he was only allowed to use the pacifier at nap-time and bed-time in his bed.

'Biiiiiiiiiiinnnnkkkkiiiieeeeeee', we heard on the monitor.  Mom ran in quickly and consoled him.  Dylan was trying to be so brave and not cry as we reminded him of why Santa had taken his binkies.

The story we told was that Santa needed to redistribute the binkies to babies all around the world, and that, in exchange, he left behind a beautiful baby pig for Dylan to hug in his bed. (Laird, who had given up his binkies willingly a year-and-a-half earlier, got a fuzzy rabbit for supporting Dylan in this trying time.)  We thought it was a lovely way to embrace the season of giving.

At 5 am, Mom and Dad consoled Dylan repeatedly.  His lip quivered and his eyes were full of tears that he refused to let fall.  He was trying to be strong but he was in such pain inside.

'Dylan', Mom whispered, 'it's okay to cry if you feel sad.  Let it out my angel.'  As soon as Mom said that, Dylan let the tears free.  He sobbed for a good 15 minutes while laying on Mama's chest.  Mom and Dad too, shed tears along with him, as we both second guessed our decision to take his binkies away.

Dylan loved his pig, but he had trouble grasping the fact that his binkies were gone forever. It seemed so final. He also loved Santa, but had trouble understanding why he would take all his binkies and make him feel bad.

“Santa gives us presents at Christmas when we are good, but he also teaches us how to give. Your binkies are making millions of babies happy, all around the world,” Mum and Dad reminded Dylan.

It all hit home again at nap time. Dylan crawled under his covers. He hugged his pig, but had no binky. His face was the picture of sadness, but he held it together. He looked at Dad and said, “I want to give back the pig to Santa and have my binkies,” his voice cracking, the corners of his mouth turning down. His chin quivered.

Dad felt like his heart was being crushed. “It will be okay, Dylan. Your pig will take care of you. Your binkies are gone, but they are making babies happy, all around the world.” Dylan rolled over and then quietly, unable to hold it back, started to cry.

This was the low point. Dad napped in the room on the floor with Laird and Dylan, which made Dylan feel a little bit better. He eventually fell asleep. Mum and Dad worried that night that they had made a mistake – that they had ruined Dylan’s image of Santa and scarred him for life. Maybe they should have waited another month. And what’s the big problem with binkies anyway, if they make your child happy?

But the next day, it was less painful, and by New Year's, just 6 days and nights later, Dylan had stopped asking about his binkies. He still loved Santa, and he loved his pig. And hopefully, he seemed to feel good that millions of babies were happy, all over the world. More and more, Dylan seems to enjoy giving things to people, like rocks, or tiny pieces of his food.

A few days ago, while hanging out on the beach, Dylan asked Mum “What’s that thing, Momma?” He was pointing at a binky, planted firmly in the mouth of a little girl.

Kelly the Market Woman

On the stairs at the main entrance.

When Gustave Eiffel designed Dakar’s ornate Marche Kermel in the mid 1800s, he probably never imagined that, more than 150 years later, a beautiful young lady from Maine would make it her No. 1 grocery shopping venue.

Surrounded by traffic-jammed alleyways and child beggars packed with hawkers that speak little French behind rows of vegetable, fruit, fish and meat stalls, the lofty circular building in the centre of Dakar’s buzzing downtown area would intimidate most expats.

But not Kelly.

She arrives nearly every week, often wearing a brightly coloured African shirt, and always carrying her huge grass woven basket to fill with whatever’s in season.  

“Salamu Aleikum,” Kelly says – Arabic for God be with you – as she crosses beneath the high arching threshold and into the melee.  “Nangadef?” she adds – Wolof for how are you? Responses flood back from the market workers who, after three and a half years, now know Kelly well and seem to admire her.

“Ana wa keur?” they say – How is the family? “Et les jumeaux?” they say – How are the twins?Three languages so far, none of them English, and Kelly is in her element – a South Portlander in Senegal’s oldest and most storied urban markets.  Built in 1860 during the French colonial period, Kermel burnt to the ground in 1993. It considered such an important landmark – mingling colonial history, gorgeous architecture, and local color, - that it was rebuilt in 1997 in strict adherence to its initial structure and decoration.

On special weeks, Laird and Dylan accompany Kelly to the market. They tromp through puddles in their firemen and frog boots, often receiving many gifts from vendors. Laird and Dylan - who are called 'Ouseinou' and 'Assane' in Senegal according to the tradition that governs the naming of twins - are admired and adored. Like all twins, they are considered a special Gift from God. Senegalese believe that if a mother has three sets of twins, she wins a free pass to heaven when she dies. Just 2 more sets to go! Strangers tend to stop Laird and Dylan in the market, shake their hands, and touch their own hearts. After the greeting, they put a gift of fruit in their hands. Laird and Dylan leave the market with bellies full of tangerines, clementines, apples, and bananas.

In her early days in Kermel, Kelly had to haggle. In Senegal, negotiation is a method of getting to know someone. A person who caves easily has a weak character, and can expect to get little respect. One who can remain polite while whittling down the price with reasonable counter-offers and arguments, sprinkled with kind words of respect, is warmly appreciated. Kelly inherited a mastery for winning bargains – probably from her father – and has earned a record of halving prices almost effortlessly. (She once got a high-five from a street vendor who sold her a bag slightly over cost after four days of on-and-off discussions).

Now, though, the haggling is not required. Kelly is loved at Kermel and gets the local price for anything she wants, although she always leaves a 'cadeux' in their hand.

                           


                                                            

Kelly in action.

Enjoying a gift of oranges.

Fresh fish, caught this morning.

Go Habs Go!

Go Habs Go!

Laird and Dylan had a special Sunday date with Dad, as Mom needed to stay home and work on report cards.

Here they are, sporting their Canadian Hockey shirts in celebration of their newly awarded citizenship  at the African Renassaince Monument.

After the trek, they enjoyed crepes for lunch at their favorite seaside creperie, and ended the day at Abdou's Cabane du Surfeur.

Dylan braving the 30 knot winds at the top of the monument, while also sporting his new hairdo.

Abdou and the boys.

O Canada!

It's official: Richard received a phone call at his office today from the Canadian embassy granting Laird and Dylan dual citizenship from Canada.

It certainly wasn't easy getting this paperwork processed from Africa (and to be honest, it was quite pricey).  But Dad was patient, eager, and excited to get the boys their citizenship as this would open up many more doors for our bilingual darlings.

Dad is picking up the official documents tomorrow, along with 2 Canadian passport applications.

O Canada!

                                                             Our home and native land!

True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,

The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,

O Canada, 

we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!

O Canada, 

we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, 

we stand on guard for thee.

Bon Hiver Quebec City

The Valdmanis Family

What began 10 years ago as a romantic Valentine's Day getaway, has turned into a dream come true family vacation.

A decade ago, Richard and I escaped on Valentine's Day to Quebec City in the dead of winter.  Little did we know at the time, this special weekend would be the beginning of an annual trip, which would eventually be shared with our angels - 'nos fleurs d'amour' - Laird and Dylan.  Our romantic February 14th getaway, just so happened to coincide with Quebec City's Winter Carnival - a glorious celebration of winter.

This was our 7th trip to the historic city, as living in Africa and abiding by a teacher's calendar year vacation schedule made it impossible to go during the last 3 years.

We stayed at our usual hotel, this time upgrading to a perfect suite to accommodate our family size.  We enjoyed the below zero temperatures for hours and hours...skating, sledding, and simply walking around the historic city.  We enjoyed hot chocolate to warm up, Kilkenney at our favorite pubs, and warming up at the outdoor fire at the ice bar.

Laird and Dylan blasted their Winter Carnival Trumpets throughout the village, and even slept with their beloved new instruments after promising to not blow the horn indoors.  (See pic below).

It wasn't like the old trips. It was better. It was a reminder of the romance that brought Richard and I together, and a celebration of the little miracles - Laird, Dylan, our family - that our love created.

Dylan and Laird, having a giggle on the ice rink.

Rico and Suave, at the Montreal Queen Elizabeth Hotel.

Sweet Dylan and his pursed lip.  (He does this when he's happy, and it makes my heart melt every time.)

Dadda and his dream come true.

We found the Bonhomme  d'hiver at the Chateau Frontenac! 

King Laird and King Dylan blowing the trumpets at the Ice Bar!

Warming up by the fire.

Dylan, fast asleep, with his new trumpet.

Merry Christmas!

Laird and Dylan have been going to French preschool everyday since September.  They love going to school and adore their teachers.  It's hard to believe that their French is far stronger than their English right now.  Mom and a few friends are the only source of English here in Senegal.  In fact, Laird helps translate when Mom needs a helping hand speaking French!

Here is a video from their Christmas Party.  It was a beautiful and festive evening full of song, dance, food, a guest comedian performance, and even a visit from Santa.

Laird and Dylan,
Mom and Dad burst into tears while you were performing.  (Note the jiggly camera footage.)  We are so proud of you, and the wonderful little men you are becoming.  Everyday is such a gift.  Dylan, you love to check in with how we are all feeling.  Dylan will say, 'Mom, are you happy?  Dad are you happy?  Laird, are you happy?"  My sweet son, we are more than happy.  We are over the moon.  Everyday I wonder if my heart will burst because it is so full of love.  Merry 2nd Christmas Laird and Dylan.  We love you so much.  Love, Mom and Dad

Oldies but Goodies

When we were robbed, we lost almost all photos and video footage from Laird and Dylan's birth until they were 6 months old.  The laptop, camera, and video camera were all stolen, and because I did not yet have an external hard drive, my system of 'backing up' was to never delete anything.  I couldn't imagine I would lose all 3 devices at the same time!

Luckily, friends and family have shared their photos with us, as well as what we had posted on the blog  and facebook. (Thank goodness for cyberspace!)

We replaced our video camera last year and found some long lost footage saved on the hard drive last week.

Oldies but goodies, for sure.

Laird 1 1/2 years old dancing away in Maine, July 2011.  Laird has always loved to dance!

Just before the boys 1 1/2 year old birthday celebration...stumbling around with their special hats!

Laird and Dylan rocking out in their playroom, September 2011.

And Cable Hats too...

It's a good thing I made this a bit big; I'm not sure the boys will get to wear them this year as temps in Maine have been soaring. At least they are finished... and used up some scrap yarn too. I don't know why it's incredibly rewarding to use up scrap yarn...

Spring Sweaters for Maine!

Bring on the cold!

We are counting the days until our Spring trip to Maine. We have all been through some bouts of 'homesickness'; 7 months is too long to go without seeing family and friends!

I realized last month that we may actually see some snow in Maine. I whipped up these two sweaters for the boys and am quite happy with how they turned out. The pattern is called 'Caelum' and can be found on Ravelry.

Seriously, I cannot believe they stood together for this pic!

Beautiful Dylan.

Happy Laird!

Lairdy Pants.

Speaking of Ravelry...

I have been knitting seriously for about 8 years now. Self-taught via youtube and knitting videos. This is the first time I have ever uploaded pics and pattern to Ravlery. Very proud. Check it out if you are a member!

Happy 2nd Birthday!

Dear Laird and Dylan,

On this day, two years ago, you were born.

I laid flat for 90 days in a hospital room, anticipating, praying, talking to, and loving you everyday. We fought an incredible battle together, and WON.

Your Dad flew 3 round trip flights from Africa, anticipating your arrival. And despite the physical distance during those 90 days, your Dad called everyday and spoke to you...while mom held the phone to her tummy.

You were born quite early, but were strong and brave.

Since the day you were born, life has never been the same for us. We love you more than anything in this world. You have taught us so much in such a short amount of time; our hearts are so full of love that I often wonder if it may burst at times. Everyday, we laugh until tears come, or cry because we are so happy with you...

At two years old, you both love to sing and dance. You love going for long walks and exploring the outside world. You love to ride you trikes. You both speak French and English, and are starting to say French words to Dad, and English words to Mom. You are *mostly* potty trained. Your favorite place to be is the beach. Your best friends are each other, and you still fall asleep every night talking to one another, while sucking on your beloved blue dogs. Your favorite book is 'Forever Young' by Bob Dylan as you love to sing along with the lyrics and point out all of the pictures you recognize in 2 languages. Your favorite foods are anything that is a fruit, curries, and spaghetti and meatballs. Your favorite words are 'back-hoe', 'big big truck', 'bateau', 'mouton', and 'NOOOO'!

Laird and Dylan, you are my two beautiful, strong, courageous, hilarious, and loving sons. You are our miracles.

Happy 2nd Birthday my dear angels.

Love,

Mom and Dad

Santa!

The boys saw their first live Santa Claus here in Dakar.

At a local supermarket, there was Senegalese, Wolof speaking St Nick the week before Christmas.

Both boys were quite brave, however, Laird broke down with fear after a few seconds of putting on a brave face.

Dylan staring bravely while Laird broke down.

Laird turned his back and would not look at Santa again.

Better luck next year.

Samba's Beach

It is only a 5 minute walk to a local beach from our house (or 45 minutes if you walk with the boys). There are 2 names for this beach: Les Prieres (The Prayers) or Marabou Wall Beach.

In our house, we call the beach 'Samba's Beach'.

We have been going to this beach since we moved into our house...almost two years. During these two years, we have seen the beach improve in terms of cleanliness and access. Last year, 2 different groups of men took over the beach, providing drinks, parasols, and matts for a nominal fee. They also began to clean the beach, remove trash, and create stairways for easy access down the steep cliffs.

The Samba Brothers run the right side of the beach. They are Bi-fals, a local tribe here, know for their 'rasta-like' appearance. They do not pray 5 times a day like other muslims, they can eat pork, they can smoke and drink if they wish, and they do not fast during Ramadan. They are particularly known for their singing, drumming, and chanting as they carry the word of Allah across the lands.

The Sambas are at the beach everyday. I believe they live there, although, I am not certain. They clean the beach in the morning, set up parasols, serve cold drinks, and then sing and drum throughout the rest of the day. The Samba's are gentle, happy, and always smiling.

The boys ADORE the Sambas.... And I have no doubt, the Samba's adore the boys. They teach the boys drumming, Wolof, and walk with them up and down the beach. The last few days we have gone, the boys did not want to sit with Mom on the beach as they preferred to drum with the Sambas.

Samba and friends at the drum circle.

Ummmm....Dylan doesn't look happy at all.

The boys trying to follow along to Samba's clapping.

Beach walk with Samba

Snuggling a Lobster and Blue Dog Under the Stars...

A long overdue, but special entry...

On our way to the island in the Valdmanis boat.

Laird and Dylan camped on Richmond Island in mid-July, braving the three-mile boat ride from the Spurwink River with their parents to visit one of Maine's most storied and magical spots. It was one of the highlights of our trip to Maine this summer.

We got there early enough to swim and frolick, eat wild raspberries, and search for seashells. We spotted the rams in the meadow, and counted fishing boats steaming by offshore. After hours of fun, our main concern was that they wouldn't take kindly to getting zipped up in a tent at 7pm, when the sun was still comfortably off the horizon.

But our fears were ill-placed. They were tired and out like lights within minutes, Laird sucking on his blue dog, and Dylan snuggling his lobster as the lapping of waves lulled them into dreamland.

Laird, asleep sucking his beloved Blue Dog.

Dylan snuggling his Lobster under the stars.

That gave Mom and Dad time to enjoy the sunset and later the stars, with frosty beers in front of the beach fire. Richmond is one of the most lovely places on earth -- the indians had clam bakes there hundreds of years ago, the explorer Jacques Cartier admired it in his journal on his way to the St. Lawrence seaway, and more recently, Tim and Lindy Nudd fell in love there by the light of a campfire.

Its nice that Laird and Dylan, at only 18 months, have found it too.

Sand, sand, and more sand.

Mom and Laird

Teaching the boys about the fire pit. Laird kept saying 'Hot. Hot'.

And what a wonderful way to start the day...an early morning breakfast as the sun rises above the sea, surrounded by Canadian Geese.