A Day in the Life ...

Soggy Saturday Morning and posting about hawt

2009-07-11T11:51:00.018-04:00

There you go, SEO types, what a perfect title.

Well, people don't read blogs on Saturdays anyway.

First of all, thanks to all my beloved bloggy peeps for your words of encouragement. I actually spruced up my C.V., attached it to my e:mail and hit "send" to my friend the Head Hunter (let's call him, H.H; I know the term these days is "recruiter" but, the girlie's been watching Madagascar 2 about 25 times non-stop in the last couple of days, and that resounding tribal beat, you know... and besides, I'm old, so we'll use H.H.)

As I was saying in my previous post, about my lack of walking-in-heels-prowess... I met with H.H. this past week. I think I'd mentioned that I've "known" him for over 10 years, actually contacted him wayyyyyy back when I was trying to break into the field. He didn't have any jobs for me then, but he had some great advice. And after I did eventually get into industry, I would chat with him from time to time about hiring etc. But I've never met him face to face. And never really thought about what he might look like.

I remember in my last job, I was working with our HR manager and she asked me if I had ever met H.H. And I said, no, I hadn't. She suggested I should, because uh, he was pretty good looking. He was actually a gymnast when he was younger. I was surprised, we laughed about it a bit, because whenever I've talked with him the image in my mind has been of a science geeky type, as his voice is a little squeaky. I don't know how else to describe it.

Since I've been home with the kids, he's followed up with me from time to time. And I've contemplated finally meeting him, just for coffee etc, as suggested by my husband. After all, it's always good to keep your foot at least partway through the door, and this fellow's quite connected. If I ever want to launch back in, this is a good guy to know.

I got to his office, parked in the concrete jungle and couldn't figure out which entrance was the right one...hence my poor toesies, as I did a bit more walking than I had intended. Finally finding the building and floor, I popped into the washroom, as I always do before meeting, just to check on the face shine, for any last minute stuff between the teeth etc... I wasn't really nervous because it wasn't an interview. Just a chat to find out about an opportunity, and to finally meet in person. Still, it felt weird to be in a corporate environment again.

I walked out into the hall, just as this fellow was stepping out of the men's washroom, and he looked at me and said, "Karen?" just as I uttered "H.H.?".... while sucking in my breath and totally not believing how incredibly fine he was, and OMG, he was wearing a great casual outfit, blue long sleeve fitted -tee with khaki pants, and yes, he looks like he was indeed a gymnast... stop salivating, Karen!

All kidding (well, not entirely) aside, we had a great meeting, talking about my career, what I wanted in my work life, what opportunities he had... the usual stuff. I was there for over an hour, but had to leave to get the kids. Yes, the kids, yeah, them ;). Yes, married with kids. Well, both of us, very happily at that.

We'll see where this all goes (the job thing, I mean) but it felt good to be talking about work again, my accomplishments, and not so much about being a Mom. I love being a Mom, but there's the other part of me that's taken a back seat. I said as much to him, that I don't want all the years of education, training, experience, my skill set and the career that I built to be wasted after working so hard for it. And I remain conflicted.

I got home and here's my little e:mail exchange with the husband:

Me: "BTW, met with H.H. today. He's quite hawt. Hurry home."

Hubs: "See-i toLd you it would be worthwhile mtg him."

Me: "You know, if we weren't already married, I'd sooooo have an internet affair with you ;). "

We're demented, I know.

Happy weekend!

Are you smarter than a kindergartener?

2009-07-09T12:01:00.001-04:00

I'd forgotten that a four year old has the capacity to talk non-stop. From the time that the girlie wakes up in the morning, until her head hits the pillow at bedtime, the verbal onslaught is relentless.

The boy was certainly chatty enough at this age; but the girlie takes it to a whole new level. When the L-boy used to verbalize each and every thought that happened to pop into his head, he would still be content even that we let him unravel a soliloquy, with the occasional head nod, or "yes", "really?", "well, that's very special"... to acknowledge that at least our subconscious was still following him. After all, who can respond to each and every single question that comes out of a kindergartener's mouth?

Well, in the world according to the girl, her parents are supposed to. If we just nod an "um-hmmm", she'll yell, "Hey, you weren't listening to me! Listen to my words!"

But there are some glimpses of brilliance hidden amongst the verbal diarrhea. And I'm not just saying that because I'm her mother.

The other day she asked us,"Mommy and Daddy, where was I before I was born?"

Now we initially thought this was an open invitation to launch into the sex talk, but at 4, we thought it a bit premature. We were at a loss, and then before we uttered anything, she pretty much answered it for herself. She was talking spiritually. As in, "Was I with the other babies in heaven, waiting to be born? Like where Gong-Gong is?" Wow. Silent mutual stares of "help" between the parents seemed to have saved the day.

And then yesterday, I inadvertently (well, because it was right on the road being run over by the half a dozen cars in front of me ) ran over an already flattened road pizza formerly known as skunk. As we drove over it, and I sucked in my breath (wishing I knew how to kiss my teeth), bracing myself for the stink that would now envelope the van, my girlie asked what was the matter.

So I told her that I had run over a skunk, and that I wished I had been able to avoid the poor thing. But that it was already dead when I ran over it.

And she asked me this:

"Mommy, why don't they just make sidewalks for animals? Then they can walk on their own sidewalk in a line, and people will know not to run over them. And maybe they can put up a sign to show drivers that there are skunks and other animals on that sidewalk."

Good point. Never mind about the details of having to train the animals to stay on their side of the road. But the sign is a grand idea - look at this:

(image from stock.exchange)

At least skunks have legs.

And my son's response when I told him I ran over a skunk? He checked out the tires to see if there were any skunk guts adorning them. No such luck. Boys.

But the best one yet?

As I ran the kids out of the house this morning to drop them to their camps, decked out in my "interview" suit to meet the headhunter (more on that later), the girl looked at me and said,

"Oh, I like your outfit mommy. I like your necklace. You look like you are going to talk at the front of a meeting. You know, the lady who talks to all the people when they come to a meeting, you look like her!"

"Well, Mommy did do something like that before I had you and stayed home. Do you think that might be what you want to be when you grow up, sweetie?"

"You had to stay home to take care of me and Goh-Goh, right Mommy? So we don't get hurt (guilting already!!), right? I can be that lady when I grow up, but only when you're a Grandma."

And then she took one look at my shoes and said, "Oh, but be very careful Mommy. You don't know how to wear heels."

And she was brilliantly right.

My feet are KILLING me.

Wordless Wednesday - Sweet

2009-07-08T00:11:00.002-04:00

Type A much?

2009-07-07T08:01:00.010-04:00

I contemplated accompanying hubs on his most recent trip for business. I initially jumped all over it because he actually asked if I wanted to go (the opportunity doesn't come that often because of all the work he's got to do, and he's not always comfortable with the optics. But I take my lead from him).

But with BlogHer coming up, and our family vacay ... and the fact that I didn't think the kids would appreciate spending the week doing workbooks at Grandma's (she runs a really tight curriculum, especially during summer holidays)... I thought better of it.

And the hubs is apparently relieved with my decision too.

I got the following message this morning, letting me know that after having to switch planes he finally got there:

"Arrived safely-waiting in a ridiculously long customs line.....its times like these I am glad you aren't here :) not bc I don't love you but I don't miss a play by play account on the delay..."

Know me much?

Friday Fragments - A Pictorial

2009-07-03T16:29:00.027-04:00

Total Friday randomness...

You know how we have our bed to ourselves now? Well, I forgot about this guy:

No, unfortunately it isn't some fancy marital aid.

I don't know if I ever told you, but I think our bedroom ceiling fan is haunted. Every summer, it gets a little warm in our bedroom, which sits over the garage. So we installed a ceiling fan, one complete with a light and three spinning speeds. It's wonderful what a little air circulation will do.

After about a year or so, it started to do some funny stuff. Like all of a sudden crank up from level one to hyper level three speed. Or if the light was off, it would turn on. Or the whole thing would shut off. All completely on its own. At first it used to freak us out.

We thought it might be the batteries in the remote. But we've changed them, and it doesn't make a difference. Some weird phantom just loves to mess with us just as we're trying to get to REM stage. So what do we do? We sleep with the remote...and whosoever happens to be awake when the light goes on at 3 AM, or the blades of the fan fly at speeds that threaten to decapitate us while we're in dreamland; well, that person has to hit the appropriate button. I think we're destined to keep those LOSER T's permanently...

*****

Welcome to our fridge:

I forgot that I put Ms. Little Pony in there for the girlie; hubs apparently saw it the other day when he went to get a beer, but didn't comment. Gee, this Dad thing must be old hat to him now.

Just so you know, this is our treatment for Little Pony vitiligo. Pony turns white when you hold it, so it must go back to deep freeze to get its pink on. Girlie is turning into an ingenious vet these days.

*****

MOOOOOOOOOOO...

Yes, I splurged and got blog cards for the upcoming BlogHer-thing-a-ma-bop...and while I was at it I also got myself a totally frivolous Betseyville bag for a steal at Winners. The animal print is as garish or as stylish as can be, depending on who you talk to.

It's a computer case, but looks like a typical carry-on, so people don't necessarily think you're carrying your laptop in there and won't steal it. Except now I've just told the internet. Great. Well, I'm in the market for a new one anyway.

Now I just need some comfortable but sexy shoes. Oxymoron, I know. Seriously, no Fashion Fridays in a long, long time means there's a void to fill.

*****

Oh, and my hairstylist is back from mat. leave. Whoopeee!!!

For better fragments, visit the home of Mrs. 4444 when you get a chance.

So now what do we do?

2009-07-02T16:58:00.011-04:00

My kids get away with a lot. They're good kids, but they know how to work the system.

Take my daughter, for example. She's four AND A HALF now, she's quick to point out. And she just graduated from junior kindergarten. In September she'll be a "senior".

But get this; she has her own room, complete with her own pretty bed...which she hasn't slept in since she was three.

Where has she been sleeping, pray tell?

Why, in her Mom and Dad's room, on the couch next to their bed. Mommy and Daddy need T-shirts with "LOSERS" blazoned across them.

How did this happen? Well, she used to go to bed pronto right a 8 PM, we'd tuck her in with her stuffed guys, give her a kiss good night, and she'd be good. No drama for the night.

But she started getting up in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with us. And then before we knew it, she was spending most of the night in bed with us... so our new rule was, get in the couch, if you're coming into our room.

Then somehow we ended up being too tired, and she weaseled her way into getting tucked into the couch right away, bypassing the whole bedroom ritual entirely. (I suspect it was the hubs that allowed this to happen on a night while I was out. Yeah, I blame him for everything, and this is no exception. No willpower against girls who have certain grown men wrapped around their cutie little fingers). And to be honest, there's something just too sweet about hearing your little girl's gentle breathing next to you.

It just became habit.

But this was ridiculous. It's just bad news to lose the sanctity of your own bedroom. It can't be good for a marriage. Bad enough that kids invade your entire consciousness, let alone your sub and then total unconsciousness.

She promised, though, that she would go back to her room, eventually. Before she was ten at least. Well, that argument didn't fly, so she deferred it to her sleepover with her baby cousin, which was two weekends ago. She slept in her room, with her cousin in the playpen beside her. Not a single hitch.

It was beautiful.

But guess what? She went right back to our couch the next day. Grrrrr. And I have little energy to fight.

So here comes my little hero.

"G, if I sleep next to you on the air mattress in your room, will you stay in your bed?."

"Yay, it will be like a sleepover. Yay Goh-Goh, I will, I will sleep there all the night if you're next to me!" she shouted with glee. Literally jumping up and down and clapping.

Her last words to me as she faded into sleep this past Monday were,

"Mommy, if Goh-Goh sleeps here with me forever, then it's okay, I'll sleep in my own bed."

And she did.

And she has every night now, since Monday.

With her big brother by her side.

I asked my boy on Tuesday if he wanted to go back to his room. He replied,

"Uh, no, not just yet. It's comforting hearing her next to me sleeping. It's okay Mommy. I'll let you know when I'm ready to go back."

Where did we get this kid?

And so his Mommy thanks him. And his Daddy too.

Because of him, we've got our bedroom back.

Not that we've got the energy to do anything with this new scenario, but it's the principle right?

"Wordless" Wednesday - Happy Canada Day

2009-07-01T08:31:00.011-04:00

Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians!

Celebrate!

(photos from StockExchg)

The most important job

2009-06-29T15:31:00.018-04:00

It was only supposed to be for a couple of years. After all, it had been a long, almost ten year journey to become parents of two. Staying at home with them during the early precious baby years, when I could also cherish quality time with my preschooler boy. It was a no brainer.

Then she was a toddler, with so many things to do, so many programs to experience. With her Mommy.

'Maybe when she's in school', I said to myself.

Now she's in school. And that "couple" of years? Has morphed into over four.

*****

The man's travel for work has picked up again. The last time he came home, he was so happy to see us, and he made a point of giving me an extra bit of TLC (along with the Lady Godivas) by telling me that I'm the one doing the most important job. I'm the parent at home with the kids. He's just bringing home the money.

I appreciated that. I really did. And he's doing a lot more than just that.

So I'm torn.

You see, I've always been a career gal. Even when I was a young girl, I envisioned working full time, outside of the home after I had my family. It was the model I grew up in; it was what I aspired to. Not just a job, but a career, with a path and succession planning. I did it after I had my son. I never even contemplated being a stay-at-home mom. Not until I became pregnant with the girl, and the company situation presented itself. It just made sense NOT to work. The career, in the whole scheme of things, was not as important. And truth be told, there's not much I can complain about this whole at home gig.

I have this colleague, though, who I'll call "headhunter". Who's good at what he does. In fact, he's great. I've used his services over the years and have found great people from him. He keeps tabs on me, he calls me up regularly to get a pulse of where my head is at, if and when I'm planning to hit the career trail again. And up until now, it's been easy to say, "not quite yet; I'm still looking for that work-life balance..." I have been lucky too, that I've had a few work projects over the last couple of years.

But the headhunter has done it now. He's presented me with an interesting opportunity. Close to home, perhaps not as fast-paced as what I'd had before. Something that might be worth investigating, if only to brush up my resume and practice my interview skills.

So my head is spinning. I should just go for the experience, right? There's no pressure, it's not like I'm absolutely needing this job. The scenarios are already flying around in my mind, though, all the "what if's". What if the interview goes well and it's something I might want to jump back into? What if it's such an amazing company and culture that I can't turn away. What if they DON'T want to hire me, what about that?

And what about my kids and their care? They're not ready for me to go back. Would we need a nanny? Am I actually ready to go back; but what if I don't and I wait too long? What about wanting to do my own thing, drumming up more of my own business so I can avoid the daily grind? The appeal of a regular paycheque, of again using my brain, education and experience is there. But then the reality of having to deal with management headaches and potential travel also needs to be factored into the equation. Do I even want to go there?

Hubs thinks I should look into it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He's fine with whatever I want to do.

My head just hurts. This is supposed to be summer vacation isn't it? Why isn't it fun yet?

*****

And here is a pretty song, just because I like it...

Friday Fragments - Pop Culture edition

2009-06-26T13:28:00.005-04:00

What a day it was yesterday, and continues to be today. While I was congratulating myself for being so cool as to be "in the know" about two events via twitter before they made official headlines (I'm such a geek that way) ... it really registered as to how historically sad it was.

Farrah Fawcett, an original Charlie's Angel. And then Michael Jackson, the icon. Two celebrities who touched the world. And me.

*****

I was a huge fan of the Six Million Dollar Man when I was a kid. And then when I found out that he was married to this blonde goddess in real life, I was totally awestruck. I'll be honest, Farrah wasn't my favourite angel (Jaclyn Smith was my idol) but I did sketches of the Angels and hung them up on my wall. And I couldn't draw, but I loved them, and the show and what it stood for (three beautiful, smart, female DETECTIVES? Catching bad guys? Wow!).

Sure, they bounced around a bit as they ran around, and were always so cutely flirty chatting with Charlie...but to a young girl, they were certainly something to aspire to. Even a little skinny Chinese girl.

I did feel a bit betrayed after she left the show, but looking back, it was a very strong, gutsy move, made by a strong, gutsy woman. From what I've read about her battle with cancer, she was an inspiration.

*****

Michael Jackson. I still know so many of the lyrics to so many of the songs. From the time I used to watch the Jackson 5 cartoon series on Saturdays mornings .... to the days in the basement when I used to prance around to "Shake your Body to the Ground"... to the "Thriller" album that I won when my Dad spent who knows how much $$ at a Fairweather shopping spree for me and my sister... to the first dance I ever choreographed in high school to "Billie Jean". Watching his videos over and over, jumping up to dance whenever I heard his distinctive voice.

I can't believe he's gone.

*****

I took the kids with me to Dad's grave site, after picking up up some annuals to pay our respects. It's tradition to visit before July 1. And it was the first time I'd been there since the winter.

The foundation for the monument has been set. The site is gorgeous in the summer, with a lovely tree and bench right by. I think Dad must love it, it's beautiful.

I spent a half an hour digging because the spot that my brother had cleared had been re-sodded again for the foundation (unbenownst to us, they just put it in yesterday). Digging with the girlie's garden tools, because that's all I brought (d'oh!).

It was a bit of work, in the hot sun, cutting through the mud and clay. But a labour of love...it was the least I could do ... the flowers make it look so much prettier.

After a quick watering, I took the kids' hands and we stood in front of my Dad's spot. My boy bowed his head and said a private message to his Granddad in his head... and then he shook with sobs. I teared up too. We all miss him so.

So after our traditional three bows toward Dad, we packed it all up and walked back to the car.

Into the shiny weekend that I know my Dad would want us to enjoy.

*****

For more fantastic fragments, visit the home of Mrs. 4444 when you get a chance.

Party, Party, Party

2009-06-25T09:00:00.013-04:00

...is what it's been all this last week of school.

The GREAT news...

The little G "commenced" from Junior Kindergarten yesterday.

I almost cried, as she walked up in her gown and cap, her "diploma" outlining her favourite things in kindergarten grasped firmly in her hand.

And then she stood on stage, taking the microphone and reading her four lines about what makes kindergarten special while her beloved kindergarten teacher stood next to her.

Playing with her best friend, playing at recess, and playing with the castle, those are the very best things about kindergarten. Life really is tough with that play policy.

And then they were off to cake and celebrations in the classroom. The kindergarten teacher (a STAR, she was my boy's teacher as well) is off to be a Vice Principal at another school. So it was indeed bittersweet, as she was so instrumental in making my kids' entry into the whole school experience, a wonderful one. Teachers like her are once in a lifetime, and my kids were so lucky. Oh yeah, we were at a farewell party for her end of last week too.

Then we were off again...

to a pool party over at the girlie's best pal's house. In honour of the grad, my friend invited the whole class and parents to the festivities. My boy followed, the hubs followed, and they had us over for dinner. I am in total awe of her.

A whole day of fun and sun, and boy, was it ever HOT! I melted, even though I was under shade most of the time. I'm such a lightweight.

*****

Today is THE last day of school. I pick up the kids at noon, and guess what... ANOTHER grad party. The girl is four years old and already a party animal. It should be interesting when she hits middle school...and then high school. I don't even want to think about university.

The boy laments that his school party consisted of a movie about Mozart in Swedish (they couldn't find an English version) and a continental breakfast. I guess his teacher had a bit more of a charm school bent (what??!!). I would have love that, but for a 9 year old boy whose musical interests currently lie more in the Black Eyed Peas and Lady GaGa direction, not so much.

Too funny.

And on tomorrow's agenda...you guessed it, another party, this one of the birthday variety.

*****

I'm too old for this. I could only handle one Stella yesterday, and I felt wasted.

But whew - I have a new weapon in my arsenal to fight the battle of the sag face: the new Estée Lauder product that I was lucky enough to try and write about over at my review site*. So even though I feel about 80, I'm looking much, much younger than that, thank GAWD!!!

(*check it, there's free stuff coming up for U.S. residents)

Three, Two, One...

2009-06-23T13:38:00.006-04:00

Panic!

Geez, summer break starts on Thursday, 12 PM sharp.

And I feel so unprepared.

I don't know what it is; do you just become exhausted after a while and feel 'meh'; let's just let things roll?

I felt a bit of guilt about a month ago when chatting with some other moms while the kids played in the playground after school. A couple of them were talking about how they'd booked their kids' swim lessons for July, and I was like "WHAT??? The registration day was today?!!!"

And of course I was screwed. I'm sitting on two waitlists now for the girl. Thankfully because the boy is in the higher levels (I can't believe, it's like junior lifeguarding levels, what a fish!) he got in okay.

You see, I used to get up at 6:30 AM to sign my son up for his swim lessons, on the very day that online registration opened. And I ALWAYS got a spot. Because even though the system was slow, I was ON THERE, baby, at 7 AM sharp. When you're talking four spots per class in the preschool levels, it's what you have to do.

And I kept this up for the longest time, getting my boy into the lessons pronto, having activities scheduled for most days. Running around with our little baby schlep during pickups and drop-offs.

Now I'm content to let the kids run around the back and play with balls and bubbles. But I feel like a bit of a slacker.

I've tried to tell myself it's not so bad. I USED to be the keen mom. These moms who are signing their kids up so diligently, well their kids are their firstborns, like my boy. It's the girlie for whom I've dropped the ball.

So other than the boy's swim lessons, he's got a week of half day tennis camp, and I've signed the girlie up for a Chinese language playschool. Should be interesting to see how that goes.

And that's it. I'm hoping that will be enough, and that I won't have to endure hours of whining when they're not scheduled.

So what's on your summer agenda?

Photostory and a Father's Friday

2009-06-19T12:23:00.028-04:00

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

So I was tagged by my friend Cid to participate in a photo meme, and I thought it was so fun, that I would share it on my very first Photostory Friday as well. I had to look up my very first file of photos on this computer and find the 10th photo.

And this is what was there, I kid you not, just in time for Father's Day:

See how fuzzy that photo is? We were having problems with our first digital camera, the flash timing was off. But this photo says it all. It was taken during a staycation in the spring break of 2004, before I got pregnant with the girlie. We've always loved to take the kids downtown Toronto, and this time we stayed at the Royal York hotel, brought the boy with us to a fab dinner at Biff's (where he slept the whole time). He wasn't yet four years old. If they were to sit in the same position now, hubs back would be broken, or severely dented. That boy now goes up to my ear and weighs 72 lbs.

And look at the man, with his beer. What more could a guy want, a great pint of brew, and his little boy on his lap. Turned out that Remy's in Yorkville, the place where we'd occasionally go as singletons, was growing up a bit too. Quite family friendly.

For this photo meme I tag the following blog buddies...

Tooj
Kami
Tara
Louann
Heidi

*****

I wish I weren't so organized sometimes:

I found this card last year for the kids to give to Dad this year. I had two cards, because this one was so perfect I had to get it as well. He would have loved it.

Mom is going on a trip up north for the weekend with friends. I am very happy for her. The little brother and wife are going to a wedding tomorrow so we've got my cutie niece for a sleepover. My sister and her family are off to their weekend retreat.

How I wish we were all together again like we were last year. And not scattered, as we try to avoid yet another family gathering, where the grief and sorrow of missing him is just too much for us to bear.

How I wish.

Coming out and the world not imploding

2009-06-17T07:25:00.002-04:00

So how many of you have told your "real life" friends and family about this interesting hobby called blogging?

I know I've blogged about this before, this strange "fear" I have of being found out as a blogger. It's a bizarre passive/aggressive relationship I have with the web. Hence my reluctance to get all "blogfaced" on my Facebook page as I started that with IRL contacts only. And geez, now there is Twitter. So all of a sudden I'm on this social-networking wave that I unknowingly surfed onto.

My immediate family know about this place, as do my sisters-in-law, a couple friends here and afar, and at least one parent in my kids' school crowd (you might remember her when she was in Norway). Strangely enough, though, only a couple of the people "in the know" actually follow my blog. Or perhaps not so strangely. They're probably just not interested.

Well I guess they just don't know how great it is over here, do they?

All kidding aside, I decided I would let some others in on my secret. To a select few, of course. To lift the weight of the heavy burden of this secret identity.

A couple of weeks ago I got together with a group of friends that I have known for over 10 years now. TEN years. I don't know how that flew by. We became close as we suffered through and survived three years of MBA classes while working full-time. I got pregnant and had baby number one during my last year, so they really carried me for a few months while I was in new mama territory. We got super close as they watched me nurse and type at the same time. How could we not stay in touch after bonding on that level? We still try to get together a couple of times a year, to get caught up.

We were reminiscing about the program, and one of them said, "Yeah, Karen, you were always so good at the writing thing. We would be looking for the right wording, you'd go type away on the laptop and come back with something just like that! "

And then my other classmate piped in, "You really should write a book, or do something with that!"

My other buddy, who also loves to write (and was critiqued by a prof, who said his writing was "breezy" like a magazine article, whatever that meant) is still hoping to write a book one day. He mentioned that he still keeps a small journal with him at all times, to capture snippets for this book.

I told him he should blog. Like I do.

And then I expected the earth to suck me in through the floor of the restaurant.

But it didn't happen. Then I went further.

"Yeah. I'm a blogger. And I'm actually going to a ~~hold me while I get shit-faced drunk and party with my homies~~ blogging convention in July."

The reaction around the table was bemused acknowledgement. Someone asked whether I'm on twitter. And of course I said yes. The others looked at me like I was from another planet.

And that was IT folks. They didn't ask me for my url, they didn't ask what I blog about ... nada.

To be honest, I was rather relieved. I guess I'm just one overly nosy person, because if someone told me they blogged, I'd be all over it.

But that's just me.

*****

Over coffee with another mom friend, who I have become quite close to this last year as their whole family was so supportive during that whole nightmare with Dad... I decided to spill it again. Can't shut me up once I'm on a roll, I guess.

We were talking about summer plans and I mentioned that I was going to Chicago with me, myself and I. She thought that was great, and asked what it was for.

So I told her... I'm a blogger. I said I blogged about my life, my kids, and not about her. She smiled, thought it was great. It hasn't come up again in conversation.

And again, that was it. I guess I just did blog about her. Oh well.

*****

So now I can just carry on. In fact, perhaps I'll REALLY let 'er rip now.

Weekly Winners -I can't work this thing

2009-06-14T14:08:00.007-04:00

The husband took my smaller Powershot with him on his trip to Copenhagen, and was so busy he had time to take but one photo. And it was raining all week.

But he did leave me his Canon Rebel SLR to use for photos, and it scared me.

So I didn't take any photos until yesterday, after he got back, when I realized that I needed to take a better shot of my boy for some cards that I'm making to take to BlogHer.

Neat camera, though.

I guess the hubs really does love me though cuz he bought me these...

(they're now hidden though, these Lady G's are MINE, MINE, all MINE!!!)

For more photo fun, check the home of Weekly Winners, chez Lotus.

Friday Fragments: Don't you just love it edition...

2009-06-12T09:15:00.018-04:00

Don't you just love it when...

- your daughter's best friend comes over for a playdate and somehow runs his face into the peeling trunk of your possibly diseased tree?

- your son grabs a door frame at school, splits his nail and thumb open (according to his telephone call and the explanation by his teacher), calls you 3 hours after it happens ... you call the doctor to make an appointment in case the boy develops gangrene, you bring the boy home, he passes out (in sleep); you wake him up and get to the doctor's office where he peels his bandage open and ... NOTHING? The doctor even takes out his ear-checker thing -a-ma-bob to magnify it and cannot find the wound. Guess the principal did a good job cleaning and sealing it. Nevertheless, the boy wants out of school for the rest of the year because he can no longer write. How convenient.

- you realize that you're behind on your kid's annual checkups so the boy has his since we're at the office... and it sinks in that your girlie will need a needle at hers. Oh fun.

- your daughter has a hissy fit at her best friend's house because he got TWO caterpillars and a cocoon while she only got one caterpillar and chrysalis. She doesn't understand that it's nicer that only one will die on our watch. Welcome to Catty II, to replace Catty I.

- you print out 200 photos from Costco because you save 5 cents each and it only covers six months worth of our happy, happy 2008; and then you realize that you don't have the photo albums to put them in... you do research to make a photobook for your husband's colleague as she's moving to Europe and you realize ... DAMN! You could be making photobooks with full commentary instead of kicking it old, old, old school.

- you need a new bathing suit and prepare to go bathing suit shopping ...and your son tells you that you should probably get back to the gym before, because apparently that's the natural order. Ouch, how'd I get such a smartie? So we're going to McDonald's for lunch instead.

- your head wants to go back to the gym, but your heart isn't into it, probably because it doesn't want to work.

- your husband is in Copenhagan for the week, his Blackberry and computer are not functioning, so even if he did have Skype it wouldn't have worked...and he only manages to call a couple of times the first of which we miss because I am screaming at the kids to quit fooling around and get into bed. But the first words he says when he connects are "I love you and miss you". Smart man.

Cannot wait for tomorrow at 5 PM.

Happy weekend, friends!

*****

For more fantastic fragments, visit the home of
Mrs. 4444 when you get a chance.

Always be my baby

2009-06-11T20:49:00.012-04:00

As I was helping my little girl dress for school this morning, she asked me,

"Mommy, did I drool like a dog when I was sleeping?"

And I answered her truthfully.

"You did drool, but it wasn't exactly like a dog."

"Why do animals drool, Mommy?".

"Well, they do sometimes when they're hot, or when they're excited or ready for food."

"But I'm not a dog."

"No, you're not a dog. But humans drool sometimes too. Like babies. They drool when they're teething."

"Oh. So THAT'S why. Because I'm your baby, right Mama?" as she giggled and snuggled into me.

I melted.

"Yup. You're exactly right. You'll always be my baby.", I whispered in her ear as I squeezed her right back.

*****

In the day to day, it's not always top of mind what miracles my kids are. They're great kids, but they still know how to get my goat. But it is always with me, that without help, we may never have had our babies.

And I'll get the occasional nudge when I find out that, yeah, some of the hopeful baby vibes that I've sent out over the internet, do make their mark.

Congrats to my friend Xbox and his wife ET. He was the one who inspired me to open up on my blog about our infertility struggles. And I'd like to think that I was able to give them some hope on their own journey.

Looks like he'll have to switch subject matters now. I can't wait to read his take on the wonders of being expectant parents. Should be a wild nine months!

Wordless Wednesday - Mraz much?

2009-06-10T09:49:00.003-04:00

For more Wordless check it out here and here.

Know Your Enemy

2009-06-09T10:04:00.014-04:00

"I decided to pass, Mom.", my boy said to me this morning, during our morning pre-get-out-of-bed period, before the little sister got up to create some drama for the day.

He had come home the other day mentioning that he was picked by his teacher to talk about what integrity was, and to do this with his friend Sally in front of his school. I was pumped for him, what mother wouldn't be? I told him he should be proud of the fact that his teacher selected him, and that she obviously thought he could perform well.

He was given a couple days to think about it, and I had tried to instill some confidence in him that he could do it. I guess I failed. He'd let the butterflies get the better of him and gave the task to another friend.

"Oh. When is the assembly?"

"It's later today in 5th period. I felt too nervous, though, and Mrs. Smith said it was okay."

"Well, I think you could have done it, you're so good at speaking, and you're a natural."

"But Mom, this would have been in front of the WHOLE SCHOOL. I could have handled it if it was just primary. But I would have had to say it in front of the primary, intermediate AND SENIORS! Mrs. Smith said it was fine; she said she was so nervous when she first started as a teacher she could barely face her first day in class. So I feel okay about it."

I suppose speaking in front of over 800 people would be intimidating. Even if he imagined they were all in their underwear. That made him laugh. How could he concentrate on his speech about integrity if he pictured everyone in their skivvies?

I had resisted the urge to do the mom pressure tactic, to push him to "seize the opportunity to shine."Something that is just inbred, I suppose. I remember being under the gun myself when I was just a little older than my boy, preparing my first speech with cue cards. The old tape recorder was turned on, and I was recorded by my mom, and my dad, as they coached me to remember each and every word, to speak with expression and enthusiasm. They knew I could do it too, but it doesn't mean that I wasn't shitting nickels the whole time I was performing.

But my boy's not comfortable with it this time. So I am fine with it.

It's not an earth-shattering opportunity. He would have shone like the beacon that he is. I'll just remain quietly proud of him. He'll gain more confidence. There will be other moments.

*****

Public speaking. It's probably a number one fear on most every list out there. Don't know what it is about that.

Why do we fear this? Why do we let our insecurities get the better of us? I'm probably the most guilty of that myself.

My own worst enemy.

Call it analysis paralysis. Afraid of failure.

So I did something a little earlier this year.

Y'all know that I'm going to BlogHer. Well, they have this thing called a community keynote. They'll choose from several hundreds of submissions and offer the chance to some bloggers to share their favourite posts. In front of, what, over 1,000 people?

I told my boy that I had made a couple of submissions. (Did not share that I was shitting nickels while I hit "send").

And that if Mommy were really, really lucky, she might even get chosen (super long shot, I know, but I was trying to make a lesson out of this). To be asked to speak in front of 1,000 people. Actually, to have ASKED to speak in front of 1,000, of my own volition.

And that if it happened, I would do it. I would also probably cry.

He was awestruck. And he's confident that I'll be picked (he's so sweet that way).

I don't know about that.

But there's a part of me that's hoping that I just might feel the need to wear special skivvies in six weeks' time.

You know, to catch those nickels.

*****

(Bought the CD. Can you say "Rock Opera". LOVE it.)

Weekly Winners - While mama's away...

2009-06-07T14:10:00.006-04:00

Not too many this week. And I'm dealing with a cold that will likely last forever (when it hits me, it hits good).

But hey, I got to the ballet last week. And while I was there...

Daddy's girl at the farm...

The kids got "UP'd" in 3-D

For more photo fun, check the home of Weekly Winners, chez Lotus.

Living the dream

2009-06-04T08:18:00.001-04:00

My eyes followed the beautiful ballerina as her seemingly weightless body floated across the stage, her tiny feet barely touching the ground. The emotion on her face matching the rich passion in her movements. I was utterly captivated.

Then the men took their turns, leaping, spinning, throwing themselves into the air with such strength and precision and mastery. It gave me goosebumps.

I had forgotten how much I loved the ballet. I had forgotten how I had longed to be a dancer, so many, many years ago.

I was touched somewhere in the depths of my heart, in the place where we hold special dreams.

I was eight years old again, dreaming the dream.

The final chords swelled from the orchestra. The principal dancer walked slowly forward, holding the precious flower in his hand, the look of such loving despair on his face.

"Giselle" was over.

I leapt to my feet, tears in my eyes, my hands clapping in unison with the thundering applause around me. And a feeling of sheer joy gripped me, knowing that I had just witnessed a magical, historical performance.

****

My sister took me and my mother to the ballet on Sunday. It was my birthday present (from October) and my mother's birthday weekend. And unbeknownst to us at the time that we booked the tickets, it was to be the very last performance of Chan Hon Goh, as principal dancer of the National Ballet of Canada. She has been somewhat of a living legend, well known for her beauty, strength and talent. After 20 years with the company, she has retired. At the age of 40, she has decided to shift her career and spend more time with her family.

When she came back on stage with the rest of the dancers, all eyes were upon her. Bouquets were thrown on the stage, several of her principal dancer colleagues came up her, each presenting a single rose, other famous National Ballet alumni came on stage (ie. Rex Harrington, Karen Kain...), her parents, and finally her husband and young son.

The crowd went wild as a shower of red balloons rained on the dancers.

And her little son, whose hand had been clasped by his beautiful dancer mother, broke away to kick through the round balls of fun. He grabbed a couple and threw them up in the air with glee.

Rounds of laughter arose from the audience and the stage.

A moving, perfect moment.

*****

"Mommy, how do dreams come true?" asked my little girl as I drove her and her brother home from the library the other afternoon.

"Well, sometimes dreams take a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck, but if it's something you really want to do, you just keep at it. Mommy and Daddy will help you get where you want to get, but it's something you really have to want for yourself."

As I said this, I remembered how badly I had wanted to be a ballerina. But when it came time to step it up a bit and commit to training three times week, I was already spread so thin with lessons and school. My mother gave me a choice. To continue with ballet, knowing that despite my teacher's suggestion, I likely wasn't good enough to make it as a professional; or go with the music lessons and embrace something that wouldn't be so limited.

So at the age of 11, I gave up my first real "dream".

Fast forward over 30 years. After the practical route gave me my first experience with entrepreneurship (teaching piano while in highschool); after continuing with dance as a hobby, but opening up to other possibilities in school and career ... I come to my life as it is now.

Ten years ago I was struggling with infertility, wondering whether I would ever be a mother.

Another dream that I wasn't sure would ever be fulfilled. But I wasn't going to let this one go so easily.

So thankfully this dream did and is still, coming true.

*****

Back in the minivan...

"So sweetie, what is your dream?" I asked.

"I want to be Hannah Montana when I grow up!"

And her big brother piped in,"Well, G, if you really want it, you should sing some more, and then Mommy and Daddy can get you into lessons. Then you can practice, try out for shows, there are so many ways for you to get there..."

He didn't mention that she'd also have to dye her hair blonde and pick up a Southern drawl.

But that's okay.

After all, it's her dream and if she'll stick with it, we'll be there for her.

Wordless Wednesday - "UP, yo.."

2009-06-03T07:50:00.000-04:00

For more Wordless check it out here and here.

(Yeah, they kinda liked the movie)

Weekly Winners - Kids in the Distillery

2009-05-31T12:03:00.007-04:00

So this is where we dragged the kids after all that fuss...

Worth it, I think.

For more photo fun, check the home of Weekly Winners, chez Lotus.

Happy Weekend all!

Mom Central comes to Canada, eh...

2009-05-30T15:02:00.014-04:00

So here's some great news for Canadian moms. A great one-stop online resource known as "Mom Central" which has been available in the U.S. for a while now, has made its way here, the Great White North!

What is Mom Central, you ask? As founder Stacy DeBroff puts it, "I wanted to create a resource for busy Moms - a place where Moms can trust they'll find helpful information they need to make their lives easier."

And Mom Central does just that. The site is loaded with valuable tips and information on everything from toddler toys and baby-proofing to household finances and green living. It is indeed a place where you can spend either a few minutes for quick click information ... or several hours popping in and out of the various areas such as the forum and blogs. Although it is obviously geared to moms, it would be of interest to dads, grandparents, people who know kids, people who want to know kids, or want to know what it's like to have kids...well, you get it.

See for yourself at www.momcentral.com.

And here's the bonus ... the Mom Central Testing Panel! Canadian Moms now get to try out the latest and greatest products and services and let companies who care about our opinion, know what we really think.

Moms can get involved today by clicking here to register for the Canadian Mom Central Testing Panel. If you sign-up during the month of June, you'll be entered into the draw to win 1 of 5 awesome Canon PowerShot cameras.

Aren't they bea-yoo-ti-ful?

(Contest open to Canadian residents only. Runs June 1 - 30, 2009; draw takes place July 6, and winners will be notified by e:mail).

The one where I don't want you to cry...

2009-05-29T22:00:00.005-04:00

We celebrated my Mother's birthday tonight, with a special dinner at a special venue* and, for something completely different...no grandkids.

Different, for sure.

Things are different for all of us, but especially for her.

*****

Last night I heard some soft sobs coming from upstairs. My mommy radar was up, and I immediately dragged the little one up with me to see what was going on with her brother.

I stepped into my bedroom and saw my little boy wrapped in a tight hug with his Dad. Crying his heart out.

When my boy found out that he wasn't going to be at the restaurant, he asked about the venue. He found it interesting that my sister had picked it, and that it was somewhere that his Grandma would NEVER have chosen. She would have suggested a Chinese restaurant, or Swiss Chalet. And Grandma was always the one who chose for the grandparents' birthdays. The grandson knew his Grandma well, in fact he knew both his grandparents so well, because he was in their care while Mommy was at work until he was three years of age.

That's a lot of quality time with his grandparents. And that was a reminder of a lot of future time he won't have with his Granddad.

It's okay to cry when you're sad. I wanted him to know that, and he turned to me and we cried together. But I also reminded him that his Granddad was so proud of him, that he was so loved by him, and that he was lucky to have had the time with him. That Granddad is in a much healthier, happier place.

So the tears were dried. And they are not coming again today.

Because it's Grandma's birthday, and tears on someone's birthday is bad luck.

*****

There is much to celebrate about my Mother. I did a much better job telling you about her last year.

I continue to be in such awe of her amazing strength and attitude. She just soldiers on, and in many ways, is much busier than when Dad was here. She's making her own way around by taxi and bus (a scary proposition because we're not exactly sure just HOW bad her eyesight is)...appointments, lunches, visits to the museum, visits with friends, a couple days taking care of my niece, working out every night, joining a choir and then in her spare time watching her Chinese soap operas. Oh, and she's working on a couple of real estate deals.

Did I mention that she's 72 today?

With the attitude and energy of a 27 year old.

I'm still hoping that I inherited half of that stamina.

Happy, happy birthday Mom.

(*I used to tell the person who designed it that when you flush, the toilet water comes back through the tap - and she believed me. After all, what are sisters for?)

Reinforcements

2009-05-28T09:02:00.019-04:00

(First of all, THANK YOU for all your encouraging words and comments as I had a meltdown for the internets to see. Looks like I struck a bit of a chord, and I'm happy to see that I'm not alone. Obviously I've been in a major funk. At one point before I posted, I wondered even if I had the energy, creativity, desire to blog anymore. But you have reminded me of why I do this in the first place. For me. And you are all wonderful.)

"So Guppy, Daddy needs to have a talk with you."

"What? Why?"

"Well, I want you to know that when Mommy comes to pick you up from Michael's house, you need to go with her. You don't make Mommy wait for you, you don't whine about not wanting to leave, you don't make Mommy chase you around the house. It makes it difficult for Mommy and late for her to pick up your brother."

"But Daddy..."

"No buts. You're a guest there, and it makes it very awkward for Mommy. You have to listen to Mommy, it's important."

"But Daddy, why did the caterpillar die?"

"We're not talking about caterpillars right now, honey. Did you understand what Daddy just said about listening to Mommy?

"What do caterpillars eat?"

"And if you make Mommy so very angry ~~she's just going to get mad all over again to me and I'll hear about it as soon as I walk through the door~~, she's going to go back to work."

"Oh. Okay, Daddy."

Let's see if it this sticks for the next 24 hours. Before she finds the next caterpillar.

(P.S. Check out this neat site, Farecast. Thanks to them I waited it out and got better rates, and my husband has been saved from being tied to the stake and given a royal lashing. Now he only owes me $12.)