"I CAN'T EVEN CARE" and other pearls of wisdom from a 2 year old.

Men are from Mars

2012-01-31T08:04:00.000-08:00

The difference in the sexes, Branton style:

Picture Sunday afternoon. Fantastic friend over to hang with three Branton girls. One sad Branton boy trapped upstairs by impending Report Card deadline.

Girls eating chocolate, doing crafts. Boy with sports on in the background, making up professional ways to tell parents that their child did no homework for the last three months.

All of a sudden there is the creaking noises of the boy walking around upstairs. A lot. Pacing? Working out? Should be sitting down and typing educational phrases until his fingers bleed.

Then silence.

An hour goes by. The crafting ends. Girls go upstairs. Witness the tidy, folded piles of boy clothing surrounding the bed and pooling onto the floor and piled high on the chair in the bedroom. Why? Boy was bored whilst doing his work?

No, the entire clothing rack in the walk-in closet just fell down. Down. No reason. All on its own, after five years of good service.

Now, the following morning, the girls pondered how amusing that was (while trying not to disturb the clothing store that is still my bedroom). I say "Imagine if that happened when Mommy was up in the bedroom alone! I would have yelled at the top of my lungs in a panicked voice 'Shawn...come up here right now...hurray!!!!" But, Shawn, no he tidied it all up without disturbing girly craft and giggles time and let me discover it on my own sweet time. And then he called his friend to bring over a drill to fix it some time later in the week. And, went back to work.

The little girls smile lopsidedly and nod. "So true, Mommy. So true."

We. Be. Different.

Carpooling

2012-01-27T17:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, for years I participated in the epic work carpool. Did I love it? Shrug.

It sure seems like a luxury now to have someone roll up with a fully warmed up, and scraped van waiting to whisk me off to work.

But I do love dropping the kids off and getting that great kiss from each of them before they hustle down the stairs to school, backpacks bouncing behind them. I appreciate shutting down the office at 5 p.m. and walking out straight to the car, waiting on no one else. And listening to the radio to whatever I feel like.

Lately I can't get enough of Pumped up Kicks. I don't even know most of the words to the song, and it doesn't even care. It's all about the chorus and the whistling. It's like delicious candy. Love! Also, did you realize that if you scan the radio between 4:30 and 5:30 on any given weekday you will almost always find a Michael Buble song? True. Test me and see if I am true.

Today, on the way home I heard Pump up the Jam. This was the beginning of any kind of dance mix/rap meeting my white, teenaged ears. And it immediately transported me to the little donut shop I used to work at in Clinton. Not Tim Horton's, but a Mom and Pop shop, run by real Brits, who taught me was devon cream was and how to warm up a teapot proper to bring out the flavour of tea.

And then, there I was, learning how to use a cash register, arranging platters of donuts, and ladling soup in my memory. And trying to remember the horror of cleaning my first urinal. Shiver.

And I laughed out loud. Would the 17 year old Linda imagine still singing that song at the top of her lungs on the very good stereo system in my mini van at the age of 40?

Word of the Day

2012-01-26T17:21:00.000-08:00

"Tom-stoogery": foolishness, often used in a sentence with Natalie or Avery's name attached.

"Dis-grossting": A mix of wondering what might be under the bed and being scared of finding out. Or, Avery's first-grade attempts at longer words in her little reading assignments.

I so hungry!

2012-01-24T16:54:00.000-08:00

The amount of snow that we have received in my hometown so far this winter has been weak. I think that I might have used the snow brush once for actual flakes on the windshield of my car, mostly for chipping off frost. This is no fun for someone who used to grow up in the snowbelt! Mostly we just have to hope against all hope that we might have at least one snow day sometime this season.

Finally last week we had some snow. Even some reduced visability. So, obviously this means that I should be going to Swiss Chalet for lunch, testing the snow tires, through the heaviest snowfall yet this year. It was fun! Love the January Festive special coupons.

Upon my return to the office at 2:00 (took a late lunch, not a two hour lunch, don't worry), I checked my phone messages. There was a message from the principal of the girls. There's not much I dislike receiving more than a phone call from the principal. Either someone is hurt, or bad or a combination of both. Or I forgot something.

I return the call. The principal answers.

Avery went to talk to the principal at 1 p.m., telling her that she had no lunch today. So, the principal is concerned. And calls Mom, 20 minutes away at work. Who doesn't return the call for over an hour.

I try not to laugh or throw Avery under the bus. But, I clearly state that I myself packed Avery's lunch and put it in her backpack this morning. I then proceed to list what was inside the bag: a large bunch of grapes and blueberries, yogourt, two cookies, a tootsie roll, and a two-slice fake peanut butter and honey sandwich.

Apparently these are all of Avery's favourite foods. Or, possibly, she traded poorly with her friends. Or, she dropped it accidentally down the toilet. Most likely, she was hungry and forgot to save some food for her second nutrition break.

How do I discreetly tell the principal that although Avery has the face of a cherub, she sometimes lies. Especially when in the past she has asked for additional food from teacher and they took pity and gave her chocolate-covered granola bars or pudding cups.

Now, I ask you, what would you do if you were six?

Probably the same thing that I do when there is a half-full box of Christmas chocolates in the staff room. Keep coming back for more.

I love Avery. She is currently growing and eating like a fourteen year old boy. But, she did need a gentle reminder not to tell teachers that she gets no lunch.

Working 9 to 5

2012-01-22T17:47:00.000-08:00

Two things today related to Dolly Parton:

1. Angela informed me that my Dad's birthday of January 19 is the same as Dolly Parton's. And, what do you think he would have thought of that? Not sure, but there is rumour that my stolid, dutch immigrant father had been caught singing country and western tunes in his workshop, and loudly!

2. Remember my post in September stating how I was rocking the 9-5 shift? How that extra half hour in the morning meant that sometimes I could get a crock pot simmering and the laundry going?
Insert hilarious laughter here.
Now, more like running out the door at the last minute hoping that there is a matching pair of mittens in Avery's backpack, so that the teacher doesn't call me to say that I don't have the proper winter attire for my six year old.

A small gesture

2012-01-21T05:45:00.000-08:00

One of the greatest and simplest gestures of friendship was witnessed by me at Redeemer last week.

Remember how we actually had snow for about two hours? Well, this snow is so unexpected this year, that no one has taken to wearing actual winter footwear to work. Many of the young women were coming in still wearing flats and high heels. My friends from my hometown, stop flinging your arms around in frustration and sighing at me...it doesn't snow enough down here...not my fault!

Therefore, at the end of the day, these same women were trying to find a way out to their cars without losing a toe to frostbite.

My friend Marnie, hearing the shrieks of my friend Kim (wearing stylish flats), ran over to her, and proceeded to stomp down a path of fluffy snow so that Kim could get to her car with ease.

Simple, yes. But somehow I thought it was fantastic.

Marnie, you are good people.

OVERHEARD 3-2

2012-01-20T16:05:00.001-08:00

"Linda, please help me mark some tests tonight."

"No, Shawn, I worked all day today too. Then I made supper and cleaned the house. I haven't sat down yet!"

"Daddy, NO!! She doesn't have to! I'm on TEAM MOMMY."

"Avery, you're the best."

Silent gloating while returning to making lunches.

Wish it were true

2012-01-18T18:15:00.000-08:00

Stolen from a facebook friend. Here are some sweet pick up lines, to make the Hamilton-girl in all of us drool.

You want to click on this link below, trust me you do (maybe skip the pimpy moustache photo!):

Dreamy, yet local, Ryan Gosling

Thanks to Marnie

2011-11-25T15:28:00.000-08:00

Sometimes on a Friday at 4:45 p.m. you are done for the week. Sometimes you should be working but you have sat through hours of meetings today, not to mention all week long! And the paperwork, well it will probably still be there on Monday at 9 a.m.

So, instead you discover this video: Kitten Mittons

And you appreciate it. And you laugh off the stresses of the day.

Because the cat falls off the table.

The end of an EPIC decade

2011-11-17T18:36:00.000-08:00

I don't often do this. Reflect. Set Goals. Put myself first. I rarely even hold out the camera for someone else to get a shot that includes me in the portrait. But once in a while I think that it might be okay to celebrate the creation that is Linda.

These last ten years have been pretty life-changing for me. It seemed like forever while I waited in my 20's, mostly in frustrated impatience, for my life to start rolling. Many of the things that I was waiting and praying for came to fruition in my 30's. What I didn't realize at that time during those years was that those years helped me to build an important foundation of trust, faith, prayer, discipline and friendship.

In the last ten years so much has happened: married Shawn, made two babies that look like him, fed two babies from my own body, moved three times, made new friends, tried figure skating again, read about 500 books, cleaned up lots of puke, started blogging, stayed at the same job, got food poisoning, bought my first house, developed a dog allergy, carried a swingset through the streets of my hometown, joined facebook, lost and gained too many pounds to consider, was sleep-deprived, finally got a cell phone and learned how to text, danced with my children, retained a clean driving record, went to DisneyWorld 4 times, wore some ugly pajamas, laughed till I cried, let myself off of the hook, buried my father, lived across the street from my mother-in-law, started flossing my teeth, did not travel to Europe, learned how to bike again, introduced my children to the Atlantic Ocean, comforted friends at my kitchen table, did three million loads of laundry, had a panic attack, grew my hair out and cut it off again, went to the Olympics, and stuff.

Not necessarily in that order.

But man on man (reference to an unfortunate facebook post) it was a decade of change. It is incredible that I am at the end of these years with myself still feeling put together and ready to tackle another new phase. I am pretty sure that I am going to wake up tomorrow with the same person. Yes, Shawn. And, of course, myself.

But, I have also been planning for some change this year. It has been a few years since I have shook it up very much. Hard to do that when working full time and with littles at home. And anyone who knows me, knows that I strongly oppose change. But, what the heck!! Why not? I'm going to go for it. And you are all invited to watch and to cheer me on. I'm going to show my girls an example of a vibrant, interesting and involved mother. And I want to make Shawn feel so proud to be my husband.

I will come out of this next year stronger, healthier, and more amazing, God willing. Cheer me on everyone! It is going to be great. I have some plans that I can't wait to share with you all on this blog.

This post, surprisingly, was not sponsored by Hershey Chocolate company.

Can't wait

2011-11-17T15:50:00.000-08:00

On the eve of the new Twilight movie release, I am eagerly anticipating the release of another new movie.

Muppets!! Is is November 23 yet?

Even though I had a very successful day at work today, I do have to pause with some wistfulness that I am not paid to interact with the muppets every day. That would be joyful, I love those guys.

Especially the prawn.

Ode To Asparagus

2011-11-16T15:43:00.000-08:00

Things that Natalie learned this evening over a short family meal:

1) Probably not a good idea to make gagging and hacking noises when eating supper.

2) Also a poor idea to blame the cook that it was her fault because asparagus was in that pasta dish.

Nope, don't do that.

Sir

2011-10-25T08:24:00.000-07:00

I know, it probably wrong for me to encourage. But, I secretly really like it when Avery replies to any of my directives at home with "YES SIR!"

I love it. Keep it coming.

I must stop reading books about soldiers, probably.

Teeny weeny cell phone

2011-10-12T13:13:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, Shawn got one of these at noon:

"Mr. Branton, please come down to the office right away, it's urgent."

Most teachers are loathe to be interrupted during their class or break. And, Shawn more than anything never wants to be unexpectedly called down to talk to the boss in serious tones.

"Mr. Branton, please take the phone....Yes, hello?"

Within an hour, Shawn had left the school for the day, his classroom teacherless, had picked up an anxious Avery and had her at the doctor's office.

Then he witnessed the family doctor telling my six year old:

"You should never put anything smaller than your elbow into your ear" while fishing out a bead the size of a inky finger nailed out of her ear.

Apparently, the t-shirt with the fancy beads was a bad idea. One fell off, and Aves and her little friend pretended it was a teeny weeny cell phone. And then, oops, into the ear it fell.

Forgive me while I scowl with my mouth and laugh a lot with my eyes.

Dental Despair

2011-09-30T00:24:00.000-07:00

I was warned. Shawn had informed me that the dental hygienist that had been with our kind denist forever had moved on. That was too bad, I thought in passing.

Then I went in for just a cleaning/check-up last week. You would hardly even know that I used to be so phobic of dental visits that I would literally have nightmares every night for a week leading up to any appointment.

Yes, Natalie, LITERALLY.

I was calmly waiting in the waiting room, and of course made a short visit to the world's nicest dentist bathroom. I think it is about the size of my living room at home, and doesn't smell bad either.

Then, I was called in. Still feeling generally okay. I have been brushing my teeth not once, but twice daily. No, I still don't floss regularly. But, I do try to wear my night guard so as not to bite my own teeth off as I sleep off my stress at night. I know that I don't have any cavities. I'm good.

The new hygienist, leans over and looks in. Well, well. We don't floss. Hmmm, gums are really pink. Why are you flinching? What, normal clients don't bleed quite so profusely when being stabbed by metal instruments? Oh, we cannot do all of this intense cleaning in one half hour appointment. Must rebook. Oh, you don't want to rebook? Why do you use that kind of toothpaste...no no no that won't do. We should get these pesky molars removed. Leave them alone? Hmmm...

This is not a good start.

No.

Now, I don't want to be mean (except that I really do), but did your six year old apply your eyeliner this morning? We are not going to be friends. Fail. Dental fail. Good thing I get to see her in four months again, when she can again be shocked and awed that my mouth bleeds when being stabbed. Silly me.

Corn Festival

2011-09-29T04:28:00.000-07:00

The annual end of summer Cornfest in Caledonia was held on Labour Day weekend. It involves the longest spread of potluck wonders, a cacaphony of lawn chairs, friends and banjo-picking bluegrass music.

This year I decided that each potluck that involved children, or people who were children within the last forty years, must include a pailfull of Kraft Dinner. So, I took it upon myself to make four boxes and deliver the golden pasta nuggets in my crock pot. Plus, man, that is an easy dish to prepare.

The Cornfest was a hit. Lots of talking with friends who, like us, probably consumed more corn than was necessary per capita. That is because Haldimand County is the home of the-Lords-Blessed-Corn, also known as the-corn-that-built-our-church. The local sweet corn family of the area. So good that they make everyone else's sweet corn taste as though it were for the cattle, as if the Lord had turned his face away from their fields and shone only on the blessed fields.

Shawn and I are also the corn-eating champions, two consecutive years in a row. Up we went again, to the centre of the crowd, after eating our full supper. But, for some reason, I literally couldn't chew and swallow the thousand kernels I had in my mouth. We did not win. Shawn was deflated, and walked away advertising for a new partner next year. Someone else had our crowns.

Poor.

OVERHEARD 3-1

2011-09-28T09:26:00.000-07:00

Two fantastic moments that come from watching Dancing with the Stars as a family show:

Natalie: "Mommy, why did that man's parents think he was a girl when he was little?"
Me: dunno, shrug, avoidance, don't make eye contact, reach for the remote....stupid Chaz Bono.

Me: "Avery, don't you think Harry Connick Jr. is a handsome man? I love the way he sings." Also, unspoken, the way he looks in that suit....
Avery: "I don't know. He has that spot on his cheek."
Me: "I have lots of those."
Avery: "Yes, but they make you beautiful. Plus, he holds the microphone too close to his mouth."

Sweet smelling

2011-09-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

I am loving the starting of work at 9:00 a.m. I wasn't sure, as I usually enjoy the longer evening portion of my day. But, I am discovering ways to make that extra half an hour really count in the mornings. I sometimes can get a load of laundry into the dryer before 8:25 a.m. We now have all of the beds made in the mornings. Last night's dishes get taken downstairs and most likely put away.

And last Wednesday I was feeling very awesome. The kind of awesome that plans ahead and makes supper in the crock pot. Mmmm, delicious chicken and mushrooms and onions that would be cooked and aromatic over a bed of jasmine rice. And, for a little kick of taste, I though a splash or two of Worcestershire (I spelled that correctly the first time!) sauce.

It was the last thing to do before turning on the wee crockpot and putting on the shoes to go drop the kids off at school. It was 8:25 a.m.

So, up to the top of my food cupboard I reach my arm. Not really paying attention. I know the W. sauce is up there on the right. I must have looked elsewhere while simultaneously reaching for the glass bottle of sauce, because all of a sudden there is a smash, roll and glug glug glug on the floor. Black liquid is all over the cupboards, my crock pot below, the stove and rolling down the tiles on my non-level kitchen floor. But, it smelled oh so good.

I didn't break the W. sauce bottle. No, that bottle was resting comfortably aloft in the cupboard. Instead, it was the vanilla! The brand new bottle I bought at Costco two weeks earlier that would normally last me 1.5 years of baking goodness.

I sent Natalie to get a roll of paper towels, and sent the kids outside with the final words of "Well, we are going to be a little late this morning." Couldn't exactly leave a puddle and splash of vanilla to be cleaned in 9 hours. Thankfully I had changed my pants from light grey to black. So, I just got down there, cleanedr 'er up, and smelled great the rest of the day!

Oh, and I did bother to reach up again. I was determined to add that splash of W. Sauce flavour!

Mid-September pooped

2011-09-15T17:49:00.000-07:00

We are now currently just cresting the crazy and coming down a little on the other side. Shawn is having a bit of a hard time adjusting to the prompt 7 a.m. alarm clock that now means more to him than it does to me. I am currently avoiding the 20 minute chore of making lunches, and instead hanging out on my bed, surprised at the inky darkness that is 8:20 p.m. Natalie is singing in her bed, brain abuzz with the new Christmas church musical that she just practiced. Avery, she is the smartest of all, and is already sleeping, having put her head to pillow seven seconds ago.

The build up of the beginning of September is quieting down, and now we can feel the weight of our heads on our rounded shoulders. I can hear the sound of the day ringing in my ears, until I turn on some sweet new reality television shows. I might sleep before 11 p.m. tonight. I shall try.

Somehow in the midst of back to school we managed cleaning the carpets, a thorough housecleaning including kitchen floors, crabapple harvest (I take no credit for that, it was Shawn and the girls and the hornets who took care of that), I read two great books, watched a couple of movies, sat in a hot tub for two hours this week, and hit the mall at lunch.

Gotta go make those lunches, because that last paragraph had me drooling about hitting the pillows.

Meet the Creature Night

2011-09-15T08:03:00.000-07:00

Last night was meet the teacher night. You know, try not to wear anything embarrassing, say anything humiliating and make a lot of eye contact with people at the kids school event. So, as you can guess, I am uncomfortable with those restrictions.

We opted out of the spaghetti dinner portion of the evening. Why? Do I not like pasta and ice cream? Well, yes I do, but I can do it for a lot cheaper than 32 dollars! Thirty-two. For spaghetti. I had to say no. I am also saving my pennies for some extravagant trips in the next 12 months that I am dreaming about. Oh yeah, and we have a new van that drinks the gasoline.

So, instead we made our own pasta meal that cost approximately five dollars. And then went to meet the teacher. We wandered around the classrooms as the kids excitedly showed us around. Avery's voice was increasing in volume as things became more important by the minute. LISTEN TO ME!!! We found out from Ave's teacher that she is sweet and nice. And, Natalie is also sweet and nice, and wound up tighter than a cuckoo clock when something goes awry. But, she's good.

The best part of the night was when we were wandering the halls, on our way out. There was a delightful bulletin board with that penultimate back to school assignment: "What did I do this summer?" Now, I know that I didn't post very much about our summer activities. We did not do any major road trips. But, we did the following (this list not inclusive):

CNE - two days worth!
Ontario Place
African Lion Safari
CasaLoma
Niagara Zoo
Camp for a Week
Shopped for a new van
Petted baby donkeys
Went to the Beach
Spent a day at Hayley's Cottage
much much more

What did Avery say? "On my Summer Vacation I went to Disney on Ice."

No, no you didn't. Nope.
That kid is a donkey.

Ode to Aves

2011-09-05T05:20:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday to this kid. Six years ago, on Labour Day, she came to us. To change our lives forever. This kid is loud and solitary. She is conservative and lives with wild abandon. She is kind and soft and walks around with steely determination. She knows how to squeeze you until all of the day fades away, and then proceeds to floss her toes before bed. She secretly is really good at cleaning. I watch her scream down a hill on her bike with my heart in my mouth, but she always brakes just in time. She likes to play in the beach in water that goes up to her chin, and covered in muddy sand. She is becoming aware that summer is coming to an end soon and is girding herself for having to wear socks again. Anything that resembles candy is okay in her books. We really like her, and have also been completely frustrated by her on a daily basis. I think we'll keep her.
This year, her birthday once again falls on Labour Day. That means I work all day, and Shawn mopes around the house in desperation. So, we had her birthday party early. Just a little family bowling party, with her one favourite friend (she counts as family, we have decided). Lots of Justin Bieber gifts, an ice cream cake and some glow in the dark bumper cars. It was great.
Thank you WagJag for the cheap party. Yes, Avery is pretty good at bowling. I think that she got something like 8 less points than me, and I was really trying. Good for me.
Shawn and I take a lot of photos of her. Because we will have a heck of a slideshow on her wedding day. Mostly clown-like photos. But here are some nice photos from this year.

And then again, maybe not

2011-08-30T05:15:00.000-07:00

Remember that great night in July when I had about a hundred kids at my house for a movie night?

And I was mean.

I recall thinking that perhaps that three hours of wiping the floors and hating this great idea would turn into invites from those other families. That they would want to return the favour and take my clean, respectful, fun, helpful and mature children to their homes for an evening of free entertainment.

That was seven weeks ago and no invites. I will interpret that as a no. This means that the one shining candle of hope remaining from that night has dimmed and just been extinguished. Any parents out there, there are moms like me who do indeed keep tabs.

Unfortunately for my friends who invite me/us to their cottages, I can't ever return that kind of favour. But I can bring booze.

Speaking of which...

Road Rage

2011-08-24T21:06:00.000-07:00

I am a pretty patient driver. Very Canadian. I like to give others the right of way. I follow the road signs and use my blinker and stay close to the speed limit almost all of the time. I get confused in downtown Toronto when there are people to politely watch cross the road in front of you, and streetcars to attend to, or bikers to lovingly and carefully avoid out of the utmost of respect. Too many things to be polite too all at the same time.

Recently, someone has even accused me of being an old-lady driver. Love you too, Shawn.

But, this week, as a babysitter sat in my living room dozing into the midnight hour, the road rage werewolf emerged. We had spent a nice evening watching Maroon 5 and Train and hanging out at the CNE without kids. We departed before the final number in a combination of tiredness, parking lot traffic avoidance, and Shawn's dislike of how mom-rocky Train was.

I was prepared for the standard hour trip home. I even volunteered to do the driving. But somewhere about the Ford plant, just past the last chance to abort the QEW, it all went awry.

You know, standard traffic. At 10:45 p.m.? Why? Did some poor family crash their van into the guard rails?

11:10 and the progress was less than a kilometre.

11:20 sees me playing an alphabet game by myself with the surrounding license plates.

11:30 Shawn has checked out

11:35 and we have just passed the Ford plant. Doesn't look like an accident has occurred up ahead. Nope, just construction. CONSTRUCTION...that has an hour long delay on a weekend. What the?

11:40 It has been 41 minutes and less than two kilometres travelled. No exits to use, no high occupancy vehicle lanes to utilize.

11:45 Four lanes of highway and two highways merge into one lane of traffic. Why? Here is where the rational side of my brain is telling me that we live in a great country with fantastic roadways that are maintained and paved and smooth. It could be worse. The other side of my brain is angered that now I have to pay my babysitter for an entire additional hour. I am seriously considering rolling down the window as we pass the construction dudes and yelling at one of them to hand me an extra 20 dollars for gas and babysitting fees. I am hopping mad at the monkey who maintains the digital road signs for simply stating "QEW slow at Ford Drive." He should have made the sign say "Last Chance!! Escape to Winston Churchill while you can!" or "ABORT ABORT right now!" And I'm mad at Shawn for having a nap and not helping me find the John Tesh radio show. I could have used some wisdom for my life right about then. But no.

I was experiencing full throttle road rage.

Almost gave the construction dudes the finger as we eventually crossed them to our freedom. But,the good Canadian in me won out. I drove by, quietly seething, while Shawn tried to distract me with songs in which Natalie Portman swears profusely. Smooth move. I made it home by 1:00 a.m. Mmmm, alarm clock in six hours. So good.

The view

2011-08-23T21:02:00.000-07:00

Some people are firemen or policemen, or know how to shut off gas to prevent things from exploding. Others fire up the chainsaw and clear roads or go to patch up rooves with gaping holes. My friend Hayley, she captures images to tell a story, to capture a moment, and to help us remember the humanity in a disaster.

Yes, trees have been snapped in half. Yes, bricks are littered in the street. Bricks can be replaced and trees can be replanted and slowly creep towards the sky again. But the people. They are there, helping, holding, speechless, acting.

I have asked permission to show her images here.

Hayley's photos here

I hope that she is able to continue to document the recovery of the prettiest town in Canada.

Childhood Beach Town

2011-08-22T09:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon, while my children were outside having a water fight and playing with their dollies, my childhood beach town of Goderich, was ravaged by a tornado. This tornado, having had enough fun on the water headed straight up the hill from the beach to the centre of town.

This town is 15 minutes driving distance from where my mom and sister + family live. When I was growing up, Goderich was the place to go in the summer to see a movie. It had the closest McDonalds. I even stupidly assumed that everyone lived less than half an hour away from a clean freshwater beach. So, we were there all of the time.

How eerie to see the photos online last night with recognizable buildings and stores wrecked. I have parked on that square so many times to shop or go to the flea market. More crazy was the fact that my sister was heading to a party a half a block away when the sky turned black and pieces of trees started hurtling through the air. They wisely stopped in a parking lot instead of venturing further, but that was still too close. They made it home safe, and never made it to the party.

Wow. Two things that I find incredible about this. One: there were so few fatalies. Two: the courthouse building is an unbelievable fortress.

CNE edition 2011

2011-08-21T17:06:00.000-07:00

This weekend we decided to try the CNE on the opening Saturday. Crazy, yes I know. We set the alarm, which is almost always unnecessary and made it to the front gates right at the opening time. However, all of Southern Ontario were arriving at the same time. There was some driving about and then some walking to finally get into the Exhibition.

Saturday had a special event happening called "Warriors Day." I did not know this, but I was intrigued. Very shortly after getting there, a large Warriors parade was about to happen. Now, I have been to my fair share of parades. I have been to Hagersville's Olympic hockey celebration parade, Caledonia's Santa Claus Parade, the frozen Toronto Christmas parade, and the Disney princess parade extravaganza.

But, I have never witnessed anything like this. Over one full hour of lineups of servicemen and women walked by me. Men too old to walk who were chauffeured like movie stars on the backs of classic cars. Women hunched over and wearing their badges proudly on their arms. Some smiling, some struggling. They were saluted as they went by by policemen and junior soldiers. The applause never stopped inthe crowd, swelling at the sight of some elderly soldiers and some flashy marching bands. Young people who have yet to see battle marched by ramrod straight and wearing the pride of Canada on their brow. Police men and women still in the prime of their life were remember as part of the equation. Some walking, some riding, many playing all kinds of instruments. My favourite was definitely the accordion marching band. A little quiet band of about 20 members, and totally second world war era.

Hard to explain to the kids what this all meant. They have no concept of war. They apparently haven't yet tried to decipher what is happening on the news when I watch it in the morning. So different than when I was growing up and knew that my dad had done this, and that I knew some of the vets of WW2 as my neighbours. When MASH was banned from being watched and the TV channel always quickly changed when any war footage was on the screen.

Amazing for me to think that so many people have served all over the world on behalf of Canada. I always tend to think of the armed forces as an understaffed, almost invisible presence in our at-peace country. But, this steady stream of uniformed individuals told me another story.

I was surprised to have witnessed this at the CNE, where I thought the point was to make pizza, watch Superdogs, and visit the Food Building as many times as possible. Of course, I did go on to eat some deep fried food and play, but this beginning was a very new way to spend the day at the EX.

Punched

2011-08-20T17:23:00.000-07:00

Andy Samberg I love you. You created the sweet concept of randomly attacking innocent folks with an all-out punch. And all for the sake of comedy.

Love.

Love is also my husband who goes to New York City and brings home a magnet with my boyfriend Andy Samberg for my fridge, with a delicious "punched" tagline. This makes me happy every time I go to my fridge. You know, because there are just that small group of people that you have considered randomly punching and/or paying a poor student a small stipend to do so on your behalf.

Click here to see sweet video

What, that's just me?

However, there is one person who I might just punch if our paths ever cross. This is probably fairly improbable as he resides in Australia, and yet he remains at the top of my shortlist of folks requiring punching.

**********************************************************************************

"Mommy, did you ever think that people named Marcus are mean?"

"No, Natalie, why would you say that?"

"The Marcus in Avery's class likes to hit people. And cousin Jill has a friend who is dating a guy whose name is Marcus and she says he is mean. She doesn't like him."

Continue driving, amused by this strange conversation.

***********************************************************************************

My Australian's name is Markus Zusak. He is an author. You might have come across a book or two of his in the last few years. His most noted one is called "The Book Thief." I picked it up at a booksale a few years ago, and it has sat on my shelf for a while, before I took it down as it is this month's book club selection.

A strange read, it is narrated by Death during the Holocaust. It follows the spunkiest 10 year old orphan, her loyal friend who just wants to kiss her, and her newly acquired German parents. These folks and the entire street in the small German town undergo intense trials and situations during the war. They fight like crazy, learn to trust and distrust, keep secrets, and develop the love of language together.

You know, I ate this all up. Like the season's first crop of ripe strawberries. Or a bucket of wings on a winter's night. Or the beer that Shawn just handed to me. That's drinking, not eating, I know. I digress.

But, my friend Markus. He decided to end the book. That was a bad idea. I wanted to hang out with them more. And the way that he ended the book is bad. Completely unforgivable.

He is dead to me.

A great book, I suppose, if one is looking for a violent gut reaction to the written word, and fictional characters.

Punch.

(The Zombie Dance is dedicated to my good friend, Marnie. Now, get back to work!)

Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry

2011-08-19T17:04:00.000-07:00

Tonight was one of those nights. The ones when no matter how intentional you are as a mother, you just can't get the kids to bed before the meltdown. The signs are all there. The simple and instant frustration when your sibling is hogging the kitten-time. The inability to make a simple decision about what pajamas to wear to bed. The inordinate sadness that the bed is too messy to climb in. The injustice of the way that the clock makes ten minutes of computer time pass when really it was only ONE minute, I swear!

But, to add insult to injury, there are times when that dog-tiredness just plain attacks one's creativity. The idea of having an original idea is too immense, too monumental to do on one's own. Then, all of a sudden the begging begins for Mom to help be creative and complete a craft that was incredibly rewarding and engaging last night. When this occurs just five minutes before the earliest bedtime opportunity then, well, then it is too late.

And the tears must come. They are hot and needy and impossible to take seriously. For they are the lovechild of too much sun, too many sugary donuts and the end of a week full of summer camp activities. And I do what any mom would do.

I laugh.

The giggles are not hard to interpret, even though I hide my face, as I try to hold the sweaty, exhausted one. Which strangely does not seem to help. This is not because I do not love the little one, but the thick irony of her raggedly protesting that she is not crying because she is tired is too much. Too much. If I didn't laugh, I'm afraid that I would either go to the mocking of how ridiculous this is, or get mean.

So, I laugh. And then have to retract it all, and put on my serious face. And make up and other things that are now making me feel almost as tired as her.

Five minutes later, as I write this I figure that sleep has quickly taken its prey. But no. She decides to take the post-weeping period to finally master the art of braiding her own hair. And comes to show me.

Ah, for those of you who have uncomplicated children, sit back and enjoy my journey! It sure is interesting.

P.S. For anyone who is thinking that I am unduly picking on only one of my two children, please note that this is her first meltdown of the week, and the ONLY day that Avery did not succumb to rage. Her topics of frustration included reading a book or hitting members of her family, or generally doing anything that she may not enjoy. We still love both children, just one person's weepfest made me giggle and the other one's rage makes me clean my house furiously. You know.

Five year old laugh

2011-08-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most women out there prayed really important things when pregnant with their babies. Certainly, I did that as well. However, in the depths of the rage that only an 18 month old Natalie could produce, I distinctly remember praying that God would make baby number two nice. And fun.

And, then came Avery. And this photo of her at about two months old.

This silly photo still makes me giggle. And she almost always provides some comic relief each and every day. Why, just the other day she forgot to flush the toilet in two different places in the house within an hour. Oh, right, that's not too funny.

OVERHEARD 2-25

2011-08-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

"Her name is Peckers."

"Um, Natalie can you tell me your Barbie's name again? I wasn't sure what you just said."

"Her name is Peckers. She is the sister to Checkers, the other dolly."

"Oh.....what about maybe Beckers, or Leckers, or Trekkers?"

"Why?"

Sabbath

2011-08-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it doesn't really say anywhere in the Bible that you should take an entire month out of your life each year for Sabbath rest, but maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Perhaps during a month like that one might learn to loosen the ropes of caring a little more. Maybe, stop wearing makeup in public and let the skin on the face breathe and glow in the heat of the summer sunshine. Sometimes spending more time watching that little girl's favourite movie and less time thinking about the fact that you can see four weeks of footprints on your hardwood floor is a sticky step in the right direction.

I think that perhaps it is a great thing to get excited about things like a brand new cooler with wheels that will be your travelling companion to places where there are roller coasters and giraffes that stoop down with long blue tongues that take pellets of yum out of little, trembling, outstretched hands. To move freely in the sunshine without pushing a stroller or carrying a diaper bag because the kids are getting independent and strong enough to help, for thirty seconds at a time. Remembering that peanut butter spread underneath homemade strawberry jam on anything is a proper lunch when eaten under a canopy of trees.

This Sabbath can include dipping into one's shoebox of samples for crazy things like "Moonlight Stroll in the Woods" shower gel, or the most refreshing and ridiculous of creations, thermal spa water facial spray. Creeping into a five year old's bedroom with a huge green bottle of aloe to secretly spread it lovingly on her face, after an exceptionally long day in the sun at a splashpad. And then, trying that same secret application on the ever-vigilant seven year old's face, who must sit up and wipe it off while mumbling incoherently about nothing.

The summer Sabbath feels right. Feels earned after eleven months of probably caring too much about things far too little. The sweat brought on by bodies frolicking in the hot sun seems to be bringing out the toxins of a long winter and a longer work year.

So, here is to one more week of Sabbath rest. And an evening spent in the new luxury of an air-conditioned home with an engrossing book and sleeping children, while eating long-forgotten Christmas chocolates.

Meanie

2011-07-09T17:57:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, you were a little mean."

That is how my seven year old thanked me for this past day. As Shawn is out with a buddy exploring New York City, I spent the day driving the kids to parks, splash pads, and swimming at a friend's house.

Oh, yeah, and I thought that it might be fun to have a little girls party. We called up some grade school friends at the last minute, and to my surprise many people did not have plans this weekend. Four families took us up on our offer, so from 5 to 8 p.m. there were six kids under the age of 8 in my house. Plus me. Me, one day before that time of the month.

What was I thinking?

Perhaps I thought that it might be fun to watch in quiet, diligent prayer while six kids played on our rickety swingset that not so long ago sent Natalie to the doctor's office. Somehow we scraped by that first segment of the party with the application of only one Curious George bandaid, and my sincere hopes that Natalie's little friend had her tetanus shot updated. There might be some rust on the equipment. (read, sooooo much!)

Maybe I thought that tonight would be a fine time to do one of the following activities: 1) Wash my entire dining room floor; (because it is not a great idea to make cherry-red punch with that many little people in one room) 2) vacuum the main floor (after some popcorn wars); 3) launder two pillows (see point number one); 4) scold other people's ridiculously whiny children (suck it up, and stop asking for everyone else's dress-up options).

Apparently no one else's mother, and especially probably not the child in point number four, ever scolds a kid at a three hour party. Really? Well, just how many times should I smile as I put something else into the washing machine (okay, that is my own poor decision), or ignore that obviously spoiled child as she treats my Avery like a bad friend. After three hours, I was tired of caring if a little person was a gnome or a clown. Really, I can't even care.

So, there you have it...I'm mean. Maybe I just did myself a favour. Perhaps I'm just that slight bit too embarrassing to repeat this party hostessing for a little while. Sweet. And, just maybe, those three long, sticky hours will turn into four invites at their houses in the near future.

Too married for my own good

2011-06-20T19:39:00.000-07:00

Last week I was on a short sabbatical to Kingston for a work conference. Not only was it two days of intensive training for something that I really needed to learn more about, but I also treated it as my little mini-vacation at the end of this long academic year. I spent hours alone in a little rental car listening to Broadway tunes and singing loudly, and alternatively sitting absolutely quiet near a glacial outdoor pool. I watched the Canucks lose a lot of the Stanley Cup and then the news as the drunks trashed Vancouver promptly upon the end of the game, while wrapped in the complementary robe smelling like peppermint and NOT folding laundry at all.

But, still not quite single.

Because this scene happened:

Me, checking my emails at the computer stations at the conference center. Enter a glasses-wearing, nerdy young man (totally my type).
Me, typing an email to my boss about how useful this conference is, or an email to my kids saying they are nice. The young man leans overs, and comments in an awe-inspired voice, "Wow, I wish I could type that fast."
At this point, I could turn to him and encourage his obvious admiration for me and my sexy clerical skills. But instead I say "Really? You should see my husband. He is the fastest typist ever." Read: he is so much more nerdy than you could ever dream of being, and he is TOTALLY my type. I even have seen his bum.

And I close up my email and continue to learn about the Chinese educational system.

Yes, she is learning

2011-06-09T09:56:00.000-07:00

The last few months have been tough ones for my little tough one. Avery is a clever little five year old, with a streak of stubbornness as wide as a house. Lately, she has been thinking that saying things blatantly untrue (read, lying) is the easy way out of some situations.

The parents have been stubbornly trying to make this ease disappear (read, discipline).

I know that both Shawn and I have lied to our parents during the growing years. I realize that this is probably going to continue to happen. But, I really value the idea of teaching the wee one that being uncomfortable is sometimes okay, almost always a necessary part of one's day. Otherwise, how would there be lunches packed and made for the family? How would report cards get done? How would toilets be cleaned and underwear magically appearing in drawers? There are things you just gotta do. Avery is learning this.

So, my hope is that she starts sucking it up more often and couple that with being smarter when she gets into these situations. There is hope, as per the conversation that happened two evenings ago:

"Avery, why is your hair so greasy?"

Silence

"Aves, did Mary put sunscreen in your hair today?"

"Nooooo, Mommy."

Silence, and then a motherly sniff to the head. Realization.

"Avery, did you put sunscreen on your own head?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Not bad. Lots of shampooing and suppression of smiling at her wily ways. I love that kid.

Dear Nikki

2011-05-27T11:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Niece Nikki,

It is the day before graduation. I have already finished my lunch of leftover cabbage roll casserole and am currently waiting for you to arrive. My new office is on the main floor of the school now, in case you can't find me.

I am hoping that your surprise arrival the last Friday of each May is a new annual tradition.

Love,

Tante Linda

New Hope Bicycles

2011-05-23T03:29:00.000-07:00

I have a theory about how to teach children how to ride a two-wheeler bike. It involves suffering through a long winter, then getting excited when spring arrives. As soon as the snow is melted and it is warm enough to go out without gloves, out come the bikes. And for anyone turning about 5, that means no more training wheels.

I figure that the kids most likely have forgotten what it felt like to bike with training wheels, or at all for that matter. So, off go the training wheels, on goes the helmet and there I am running behind the bike down the sidewalk. This is not a comfortable stance.

To make this one-time/year opportunity happen for Avery meant a hand-down of Natalie pretty purple and pink bike that she used last year. But, the best part of the littlest one learning to bike sans training wheels is that I no longer have to walk on all of the bike trips around the neighbourhood, pushing the baby bike up the hills or curbs. No, I can bike too!

I haven't had a bike since I left the blue supercycle that my mom bought me when I was 12 years old in the ramshackle barn at the group home when I stopped working there. I have not had a bike in about 12 years! So, on a sunny Saturday in early April we piled into the car and drove to downtown Hamilton. There is a tiny shop on a busy street there called "New Hope Bicycle Co-op". I don't have the story completely perfect, but my understanding is that the shop is run by a local church and they accept people's cast off bikes, and repair them. This shop has a mandate to train local youth to have skills and to get them working at something useful with their hands instead of getting into other kinds of busy trouble-making. Or something like that.

We went in, and then left 45 minutes later with two adult bikes and a little red one for Natalie for about $100. This made me happy. Then we proceeded to jam these three large-ish bikes in the trunk of the Corolla. Toyota corporation, if you are reading this, you should shadow the Brantons as they continually put more and more odd objects in their Corolla. We put junk in that trunk. That dirty, dirty trunk.

And then it was time to teach Avery how to bike on two wheels. You might remember last year when Natalie made this uncomfortable transition. To make a long, long story short, I was out with her for weeks as she struggled, and cried and bled her way to biking alone. Then, I found out one morning that Grandma taught her how to bike by yelling at her to keep going from the porch. I'm not still bitter.

So, I was concerned, but prepared to battle this out with Avery. I knew she had it in her. So, after about half and hour of helping her balance over two days, she turned to me and said "Okay mommy, you leave me alone now."

And by the next day, she had done it. Huh? Yes, my children are different. Avery is so fearless and reckless that hurtling down a hill a week after learning how to bike didn't even phase her. I love her for that, and I also am so very fearful for her. She is my little biking princess. I am proud of her.

OVERHEARD 2-24

2011-05-22T11:57:00.001-07:00

"No daddy, the Wiggles do NOT have hair on their butts!"

Sadly, this is typical supper time conversation.

March Break

2011-05-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

On this gusty, cold, rain until you feel it in your bones day in May, I recall a sunny week in March. For the first time in 11 years of working full time, I actually decided that I probably could take March break off with my family. Traditionally March Break is the time when Shawn does awesome day trips with the girls and emails me photos of them on wagon rides, faces covered in maple syrup or clutching a balloon with faces painted. And, then in between advising the streams of university students, I would open up these emails and smile that the kids and Shawn were having such good fun, and a little sad for myself.

But, this winter those old feeling were slowly creeping back. The ones that draw me East. I was aware all of a sudden that me and my old friend, the Atlantic Ocean, were getting out of touch. I needed those salty breezes, waves crashing on the shore and the sight of beach grass greeting me to the edge of the ocean. So, I started planning a summer road trip to the east coast. And before I knew it, we had found a great deal in Myrtle Beach, and even though the temperatures were not promised to be summer-time hot, I had agreed to go in March.

I have not regretted this choice. It was a long winter, and has become a moody spring time. The sights of blue skies and palm trees after a day of driving through the remnants of an snow-dump released the tension in my forehead and spirit. We were positively whooping with excitement, as we snuggled in our sweatshirts.

Avery got some new boots as we stopped to shop for an hour on the drive down. She wore them a lot with her shorts, skirts, whatever. And, can you blame her? They. Are. Cute.

Okay, here comes a select group of photos of little girls on a big beach. It made us happy. If you haven't gone to Myrtle Beach yet, you probably should.

I consider Avery to be my beach bum. She loves propping up her sunglasses on her head and wearing two piece bathing suits. The combination of sand and water and liberated skin is her happy place. But, she unusually took a long time to understand this huge beach. She didn't really want to play in the sand, walk on the beach or gather some of the millions of shells the ocean deposited the night before. She preferred to swim in the heated pool and sitting on the balcony of our room. That balcony on the 19th floor that had "more rules that I expected." Rules like: don't climb on that white plastic chair and look over; no throwing garbage; or no going out after dark. Avery just fundamentally wasn't understanding the appeal of the ocean. And I was confused!

Finally, on the third day there, the temperature spiked to over 20 degrees Celcius, and the there were incredibly fun waves all day. Once Avery could play in the water, and jump in the waves, she finally made the connection. And after holding out for a few days, she allowed herself to fall in love. Then there was incredible amounts of shell collecting, jumping in waves and digging in sand.

Hi, my name is Avery. I understand you and my mother know each other....

Hi, my name is Natalie, and I could get used to this...

So, if you come to my house, and visit my main floor washroom, you will find a little glass vase squatting on the counter. Inside are some grey, ridged, kind of broken shells. They are handpicked by me and three of my favourite people. And they represent March 2011.

For Laura St.

2011-05-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

In Myrtle Beach we did many of the touristy things. Such as spending an inordinate amount of time in candy stores. Laura St., you would like this place. I, however, couldn't conceive of the idea of effervescent bacon-flavoured water, or flossing my teeth with the fresh minty flavour of bacon to cleanse my gums.

Shawn is still bemoaning that he did not buy the Jesus bandages. I personally enjoyed reading the details on the Tiger blood. Especially where it says "Don't do drugs. Seriously. Don't. Do. Drugs." Are they assuming Charlie Sheen did drugs? Epically?

Spring Thaw

2011-05-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

Springtime...it is that magical time when you pull out the rubber boots, the bikes and everything else that has been abandoned in your closet during snowy weeks. Or, that might be what you think when you see Avery's sweet outfit here.

Note, the wetness of her clothes. Then peer beyond our rickety backyard steps and over the fence held together by a piece of rope. You might be thinking, "hey I didn't know that Linda had waterfront property."

Nope that's the park. There is tiny creek the sidles along behind the large trees which floods periodically in the winter and spring, mostly because the pipe is littered with branches and junk from years past. This year our neighbours got adventurous and decided to brave Burke Estates Lake with their canoe. I saw them in that canoe, as I drove around the corner, after supervising some university exams earlier that evening. I'm sure almost every university student bent over their philosophy or biology exams would have much rather been doing what my kids were doing at that moment.

The girls got in there, paddled around with the broken hockey sticks and generally were mudded from head to toe. What we didn't get a good shot of, however, was the dad-neighbour who put on his PFD and carried a motor down to that little green canoe and took off down the river, under the abandoned railway bridge and floated into the cow pasture beyond. Yes. We reside in the correct neighbourhood.

Now, this multi-annual flooding thankfully never reaches to anyone's house that flanks Burke Estates Lake. And this week, with all the devastation around North America, my heart goes out to those families and farms that are having such flooding. I'm so thankful that we can play in our flood and not be destroyed by it.

OVERHEARD 2-23

2011-05-11T07:33:00.000-07:00

"Mommy...I have figured out what teenagers do when they are at McDonalds. They eat ice cream and text."

And, what about this guy?

2011-05-09T07:59:00.000-07:00

More about our first March break trip to Myrtle Beach coming shortly. And I say first, because this should definitely happen again on a regular basis. We adored Myrtle Beach in March, even thought it wasn't that hot. But, we had a killer apartment right on the beach, and when we weren't outside on the beach or in the pool, we were sitting on our balcony looking below at the endless ocean and sunny skies.

Love.

But, what about this guy? I couldn't help but snapping a few photos of him, just because he lingered in our beach area for about 20 minutes. I had many scenarios about this guy and his lone stroll along the ocean, but most of them turned out to be sad.

But, there is something about his posture and his clothing that matched the colours of his surroundings.

Natalie was oblivious. By the way, IKEA bags make fantastic beach totes!

Mothersday

2011-05-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

Today is Mother's Day. Tradition says that I am supposed to be most happy with breakfast presented to me before I open my eyes in the morning, at my bedside, prepared by littles. I am also to be plied with gifts made of paper plates, glitter and white glue. I should not be expected to fold the laundry, put away the dishes and act like a family chauffeur for this day.

Who says?

My Mothers Day started with crafts made at school, that have been sitting on my living room table unopened since Wednesday. These precious treats only remained unopen due to my own strong will, as the kids were practically bursting at their little seams to show me their stuff. And I have to give credit to the teachers, these were thoughtful little crafts. I learned that my favourite food is hotdogs (hmmm, I thought that was Avery) and that I am 31 years old! Hurray! That is the best mother's day gift of all.

Currently, I am celebrating this special Sunday by sitting at my crowded kitchen table, with the computer all to myself. My legs are sticky and somewhat covered in grass cuttings (yay to Shawn!) from sitting on the driveway in the sun blowing bubbles with the girls. The window in my kitchen that is about four feet tall is flung open to the sun and the delightful chatter of the girls spread out on blankets with umbrellas shading them from the sun as they colour pages for me. Girls coming in with flowers picked contraband from some poor neighbours' garden.

My fingernails are pink and purple, thanks to the pre-church spa treatment that the girls gave me. I am happy to announce that those years of massaging Natalie in an effort to calm her little anxious body has translated into her being quite a great little Masseuse. Avery, well, she likes to spread lotion around for about thirty seconds.

Time to go...back to church to pick up Shawn. And then off to lunch sausage. Hey, it works for me. Perhaps later, bike ride around town, reading a novel and baseball. Just another day, but one in which I will notice the special little moments and treasure them in my heart.

Tam

2011-05-08T08:41:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday to this lady. She unabashedly refers to me as "Dwight" when calling me at the office. She treats my children as her own. She has the most generous and giving spirit I have ever encountered. She stole my bra and hung it in a tree at camp. I make strawberry jam with her. She plays basketball better than your mom. Sometimes she takes us all out on a boat that has only a tablespoon of gasoline in the tank.

She is Tam. She is a keeper. She is my friend, although we couldn't be any more opposite. I like lipstick and she flosses regularly. She like volunteering at her kids' school and I like university students. She actually knows people who were in the Olympic games and I collect the pins.

Here's to one of the most real people I know. I am so glad that I finally convinced you to move to my town. I am also glad that we met and now you're stuck with me.

P.S. Dave is still wondering if you have his bike.

OVERHEARD 2-22

2011-05-06T05:56:00.001-07:00

"Hey Mr. Branton do you like my jellyfish?"

"It looks kind of octopussy to me!"

Followed by a rapid departure of the classroom.

OVERHEARD 2-21

2011-05-06T05:44:00.003-07:00

"I can't believe it is raining again this morning."

"Mommy, it's NOT raining. I can tell. My head is blank."

OVERHEARD 2-20

2011-04-29T07:39:00.000-07:00

"Ewwww...this gym smells like salami."

Random student on the way into a final exam.

My liege

2011-04-28T07:37:00.000-07:00

Some people have no problem with ego...or self-confidence. Some just like to play with the kind folks at Best Western Rewards.

Witness, my husband.

Easter Weekend

2011-04-27T07:35:00.000-07:00

There are some great moms out there who buy new sandals and matching pastel be-ribboned dresses for their daughters on Easter weekends. Some moms put up bunny pictures around the house and spend the afternoon decorating sugar cookies in pretty manners with their children. Some are furiously preparing a memorable turkey meal for the loved ones in their life, complete with three different kinds of salad and a homemade pie.

This year, that is not me. This year I dressed the girls in sailor dresses and pink knee high socks with rock star boots, or black sparkly Christmas dresses with last-years white peep toe sandals. I don't have to start Easter meal until about an hour before because some of it is definitely coming right out of box, can or plastic cake containers. And, yet, I'm not feeling lazy, just relaxed.

But, I did peel all of the wonderfully coloured eggs and made devilled eggs, because as Natalie says, "it makes you devilish." I did set my alarm at 7:10 a.m. to match the girls eager early morning desire to hunt for eggs. I tried, blearily, to capture the egg hunt with a great picture, but the frantic motion and glee was impossible to capture. There were a lot of "yes" answers to questions for treats. I finished my novel. And I have left three loads of laundry unanswered...for now.

I spent an afternoon with my mom in her curiously warm apartment. I watched in amazement as my nieces and nephews threw candy wrappers around her living room. For sure, this would not be allowed. Then, mom joined in and started giggling and throwing it back at them.

We went to church together, and pondered the old truths have have fresh meaning each and every year. This year, I am thinking of the fact that the disciples were just average guys taking the opportunity to follow the most exceptional leader this world has ever seen. That they had confusion and doubts, but witnessed wonder and glory. Thank you Jesus, that we may someday understand our daily situations in light of your purposes.

Nothing new

2011-04-21T10:15:00.000-07:00

Not much to say today. Just so terribly looking forward to a four-day weekend, that I can hardly stay inside my "corner" office for four more hours. I have a weekend of visiting mom, Easter egg hunts, two dinners that I am cooking for others, baby-holding and house-cleaning. Plus, there is a chance that we might do something to the wildly neglected outdoors portion of our house. I might want to go out the door and hang out in my backyard this summer. Maybe. If we can afford hanging out there.

I have a faint memory of going to the beach on Easter. I think it was last year, but doesn't that seem ridiculous right now? Now, I am aware that I didn't have to shovel out my driveway this morning and that tornadoes haven't swept through southern Ontario like in the United States, but it did snow AGAIN this morning. I had to investigate the historical data on the weather network, and indeed last year at this time it was between 17-21 degrees each day.

Oh well. Back to work. Thanks to whomever had that random coca-cola in the back of the fridge. I owe you one, and yes I ignored the sticky note in the work fridge that said not to take other people's stuff. I'm a bad person. I love coke.

Fortune 500

2011-04-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

In March Shawn won something. Strange, yes? It was not some random snooty theatre event complete with appetizers and free berets for the first 50 people who actually came. Well, actually he did win that event, but we chose to not bother with driving to Toronto for that one, although the people watching and potential secret iphone photos could have been amusing.

It wasn't a year's supply of paper products. We've officially run out of free toilet paper and kleenex, but have 70 rolls of paper towels yet to use. Apparently most households use paper towels more liberally than I was raised to do by my Dutch mother.

Yes, we received random t-shirts in the mail for sci-fi movies I'll never watch and/or promote on my bosoms. Yes, there was definitely boxes of crispy crackers with no labels because our flavour opinions could impact whether or not you buy this for your upcoming summer picnics. My advice, the dry garlic crackers are a strong NO.

In March, Shawn won something worthy of a babysitter coming to our house and a drive to Toronto. We were going to see INXS in concert. This is about a level six of excitement for me...not so much that I would be despondent if I never saw them in my life (like a Harry Connick Jr. level), and definitely not to the level where I gently suggest/demand tickets be bought for my birthday present (like Chantal Kreviazuk playing at Hamilton Place with the Philharmonic), but more like hey it's free and that could be fun (like seeing Gowan play at the Welland food festival). Marnie, if I had a third ticket, you could have mom-rocked it out with us!

Plus, of course, I had watched the entire 2005 season of "Rock Star" as local boy J.D. Fortune moved from living in his car to jetsetting around the world with frontman-less INXS. Although I had considered myself an average top-40 kind of fan of INXS both before and after Rock Star, I somehow missed the entire buzz surrounding J.D. getting kicked out of the band and then returning.

Whatevs.

We arrived a little late at the concert, and were stalled by J.D.'s third cousin or something who claimed to have special tickets. The band was obviously already playing and with some mild hopping around and verbal impatience by yours truly, the line finally got moving.

Segue: Shawn and I went to another concert recently where we were actually early, and had to stand in line for about half an hour. Best pre-show entertainment ever! We were behind a group of 19-21 year old young women who had particpated in some pre-drinking festivities. The entire half hour they were alternately yelling at each other, crying about why she is so mean to me, and coaching the really drunk one how to get past the bouncers. I was amused and then so terribly frightened that Nats or Aves could be that ridiculously stupid in 12 years. Please girls, don't tell me if you become this stupid in College. Long story short, the girls were definitely sent packing by the bouncers and I almost applauded for the great moment that was!

Back to INXS. I would say that I knew about 75% of the songs. Shawn, quite a bit less. Awww, he wasn't a teenager in the 1980's. There were a great deal of me's in the crowd...most of them looked like they might have had a long day as a principal, or in marketing meetings or arranging their kid's hockey schedule for the weekend.

Our favourite fan was the mom who was directly in front of us. She videotaped the entire show on her Nikon digital camera held aloft. She even videotaped the applause after the set was over. I'm not sure that she looked directly at the stage once. I had strong urges of throwing a shoe at her direction to distract her from her mission, but resisted. Watch a youtube video if you want at home, but actually participate in the live performance if you are there.

J.D. was cute, sang well, owned the stage. But, after a while we started to ponder how weird it must be to sing the lyrics and recreate the original singer's presence. It was like the band found a talented younger nephew to play with them, but they didn't really respect him. The uncles were jamming with each other, but not with the young'in. The new songs didn't have the catchy sparkle of the big hits. What was old dude doing coming onto stage playing his guitar with a crash helmet on? Did you just remove a top hat from your head, keyboarder in the back? Could you at least try to pretend to want to play your bass beside J.D., who you hired to try to keep your own career relevant? No, okay.

I had a great time. It was good music, awkward stage interactions and there I was trying to kindly ignore the drunk 45-year-old couger beside me who felt that I was not rocking out hard enough. My shoulders were moving in time with the music and I was wearing my fave jeans. Mom Rock!

Dear University Students

2011-04-17T18:51:00.000-07:00

Dear University Students:

With regret, I may inform you that winter is planning to last into the start of your final exams. Indeed, some of you have started in desperate hope to bare your toes in public, wishing for the sun to alight onto them. Others, confusingly, have taken to walking the halls barefoot. Don't do that. This is not your mom's kitchen.

But, 2011 final exams may need to be studied for indoors this sad, wintry year. Your tube tops and bikinis that are crying out to be worn one final time before heading home to your sweet tree-planting and nannying summer jobs may continue to be covered by sweatshirts and yoga pants.

I will share your grief at not witnessing the ridiculous sunburns that occur during exams when summer appears early and everyone is "studying" outdoors. But, I will hold out hope with you that this could still happen...as exams don't end until the very end of April.

Yours, the administration

3.5 months ago

2011-04-16T04:45:00.000-07:00

Three and a half months ago Shawn and I flew to Montreal for a short three day vacation, courtesy of some contest. It was a rainy and grey couple of days, forcing the Brantons to slow down and relax. There were some long walks, a day of many movies and a full book read. Shopping was lean as most stores were closed due to New Year's Day.

But, we had this gift credit card to use up as part of this vacation. So, on New Year's Eve we found a little restaurant just off the cobblestone streets. We were escorted to the second floor, to a tiny table pressed against a wood-framed window.

And, we had a date. One that lasted for very many hours. The first time in my life we consumed an entire bottle of bubbly at one meal. Happy New Year!

We enjoyed three courses of fondue. Yes. One full course of things dipped in hot cheese. The second a meat fondue, and then finishing it up with sumptuous chocolate. Thank you random internet contest.

Montreal, the best place in Canada?

2011-04-15T04:43:00.000-07:00

Found in a hallway near the train station in Montreal. This amused my husband. We loitered for several minutes, but unfortunately did not witness any snack-takers.

Why am I craving this at 9:09 p.m. on a Thursday in April?

March and April

2011-04-14T18:44:00.000-07:00

These last few months have been, well, intense. At my job things are pretty much level ten from the first day back in January until June 1. At which point I might be found feeling really competitive at Minesweeper.

For these couple of months of every year my brain is very much consumed with being drained from 8:30-4:30 each day. The first few years that I was trying to balance this I would find myself at the doctor's office with some strange stress-related symptoms. Now, I just keep to myself a bit more, fold laundry and try to read some novels. Oh, and dream about walking along dunes at the edge of the Atlantic, my sandals in hand and sun on my face.

Nikki, thanks for your gentle and yet characteristically persistent reminders to tell my stories to my legions of faithful blog readers. Even though I have been hunkering down at work does not mean that there have not been any adventures in my life. It definitely does not mean that I am not still seeking that perfect phrase that someone says unexpectedly that makes me laugh loudly at inappropriate times. Like, driving home in a carpool with a middle-aged mom and her teenage son, who is saying things like "the shaft is light and manageable and the head handles better than older models" while innocently describing his Christian high school badminton competition.

Yes. True story.

It also doesn't mean that I haven't been musing about the too-many 'reality' shows that I am currently keeping tabs on. Jeff Probst, will you please be my boyfriend for just like a week? Why, oh why, does the Apprentice have to be two hours every week when nothing really happens and why can't I just stop caring about that one. How fun is it to watch the hated beeyatch on America's next top model start kicking it and then hear Shawn's predictable groan as Tyra states, "I have six beautiful women standing before, but only five photos in my hand." Good stuff.

So, legions and legionnaires, be patient as I try to catch up with my day-to-day and the last few months. I have been out of country. I have returned a rental car with visible damage and drove away. I have watched my littlest little bike all over the neighbourhood like a teenager, yet have a meltdown over socks. I have pondered how to continue parenting Natalie when her innate golden talents are pressuring her on many fronts.

And I have been drinking some red wine. I'm back.

OVERHEARD 2-19

2011-04-14T18:07:00.001-07:00

Pre-bathtime, Avery .....

"Mommy, look. My jina is weird, it looks kinda like a chicken."

OVERHEARD 2-18

2011-03-24T09:36:00.001-07:00

"Stop fighting! You're supposed to fight at home, not here!"

Trying my best

2011-03-10T04:49:00.000-08:00

Our house, in the middle of our street, has a wonderfully large picture window that peers outside. You can often find me sitting at the little loveseat, feet tucked up, Disneyland fleece blanket on my lap, tea and book in hand. But I'm not reading, I'm just looking outside.

This is me, trying to find the best about this long winter, that seems to be overstaying its welcome. Time to go now. Buh bye.

OVERHEARD 2-17

2011-03-09T16:42:00.001-08:00

"Do you think that they will drink all drink wine?"

"Well, they are all mothers...of course they drink wine!"

Nightime, sleeptime, say goodnight time...

2011-02-13T10:47:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder if the Mormons have it right with the multiple spouses! Want to know why? Let me take you back about 15 short hours ago.

It all started upon our return home from an afternoon spent at the Hamilton Public Library and the Farmer's Market. They lured us down there with a live show of Turkey Rhubarb, free screening of Despicable Me, and veal bologna. We returned home, and started putting our market wares away. Several moments later, a strange sensation came over me. One that hasn't been felt in my home since August 2010.

It was hot.

Like I had to remove my sweater and socks hot.

I might start to perspire while peeling potatoes.

This may seem normal to some of you. Perhaps you live across the world where it is summer. Perhaps you live in an apartment building where ambient heat is always present. But, here, in my home, it is never over 21 degrees Celcius indoors.

I looked around the corner from my kitchen to see what the thermostat stated...26.2 degrees. Huh? The bars on the thermostat that my husband so lovingly programmed to be efficient and to mildly heat his family through the winter were all the way to the top! The furnace hadn't actually shut off once in the past hour, and just kept pumping away.

So, after some attempts to figure this out, Shawn just went down and shut off the furnace to let the house cool down.

But, I'm sure that you are thinking that surely Mormons also must have periodic trouble with their furnace. Would six wives make this problem disappear?

Well, at 8:10 p.m. last night, we tucked the little blond ones into their beds, with hugs and kisses and promises of love to last them 12 hours until the morning.

Then, went downstairs to investigate the furnace. In the middle of fixing the thermostat, Avery starts to whine that her tummy hurt. So, I left to pet her tummy and lay in the bed with her for a few minutes until she goes to sleep. At exactly the same time, Natalie presents a medical emergency. This requires two parents, strong lighting, a needle, tweezers and a bandaid to remedy. And the furnace is wondering what is going on.

At the same time. So, it made me reflect this morning that perhaps more parents than two per family is needed sometimes. Just pondering.

The furnace made it through the night, as Shawn patched on the old quasi-functional thermostat. Avery went to sleep and Natalie's finger looked alright this morning. Just wish I could delegate the basket of ironing and mending to wife #2.

OVERHEARD 2-16

2011-02-09T18:40:00.000-08:00

"No, Avery, I don't want to see your nickels...oh, man what are those things called? Nipples? Stop laughing. Don't put this on your blog mommy."

Happy Nine Stuff

2011-02-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

One week from today, will be our ninth wedding anniversary. To commemorate this, I scoured the internet for quotes of beauty and wisdom about marriage/anniversaries. It was hard, I typed in "anniversary quotes" and cut and pasted. But, look at the gems that I found! Kinda like how I feel about Shawn...

The goal of our life should not be to find joy in marriage, but to bring more love and truth into the world.
- Leo TolstoyYes, I remember reading Tolstoy once when I fancied myself an academic. Then I got to reading rotten Dora books and falling asleep more.

Unto us all our days are love's anniversaries, each one
In turn hath ripen'd something of our happiness.
- Robert Bridges
I don't even understand this. Is this Jeff Bridge's dad?

Married couples who love each other tell each other a thousand things without talking.
- Chinese Proverb
Yes...or...you are being ignored.

Grow old with me!
The best is yet to be.
The last of life, for which the first is made.
- Robert Browning
Classic. Getting old is good...embrace the silver hair Shawn! As for me, time to up the facial cream.

For you wake one day,
Look around and say
Somebody wonderful
Married me.
- Fred Ebb
I think that is just plain sweet. And simple.

Marriage is our last, best chance to grow up.
- Joseph Barth
Still working on that one.

There is no more lovely, friendly and charming relationship, communion or company that a good marriage.
- Martin Luther
Can't kill the Reformer in me.

The most precious possession that ever comes to a man in this world is a woman's heart.
- Timothy Titcomb
He gets to play just because his name is Tit-comb.

Love is a great teacher.
- St. AugustineDedicated to my husband, who loves teaching.
____________________________________________________________________________
We have tried to be fun and follow the 'classic' anniversary gifts like the Internet tells us too. There have been weak years, when the best gift I could find for Shawn that had copper in it, were sock to prevent stinky feet at marks Work Wearhouse. A personal low of gift-giving, and I humby apologize to my husband. These socks, however, are still going strong 2 years later.

For year nine, the options are Leather, Wicker or Pottery. COME ON!!! Where is the wine, vacations and rubies year? Cruises, spa days or Swiss watches? Looking up some gifts on my friend the Internet, I came across some unusual selections. Pretty much the only thing recommended for wicker was a picnic basket. Mmmmm, that's kind of a newly dating kind of gift, wouldn't you say? Here are some other options:

1. Leather coasters, shaped like a puzzle piece. Cause everyone needs that. Moving along....

2. Leather bracelet. This is pretty cool, and there are other artsy, homemade pieces of jewellery that incorporate leather. Approve.

3. For Shawn, maybe needed while grilling in the backyard. I especially love this shot because the man is ready for the draw!

4. Moving on to pottery. This item was actually touted as a great anniversary gift. No, please.

5. Super no. That's not love, pottery style. Ewww.

6. Better, and still so terribly unnecessary.

We'll see what happens next week. Any suggestions?

Corollalove

2011-02-01T09:53:00.000-08:00

I didn't mean to! Honestly, I drove home in the Corolla like a 70 year old woman, scared of the snow yesterday afternoon. As soon as you put me into a four-door car with two car seats in the backseat, Ii turn into one of the most conservative drivers in Ontario. There is no off-roading. Occasionally I might hit a speedbump at my work without braking, and ram over it at a full 12 km/hour.

So, imagine my surprise when I got home last night to Shawn's pursed face. I had lost a hubcap somewhere in my wild 15 minute drive home. I didn't mean to.

This morning, my mandate was to find said hubcap. Great, it snowed about 5 cm of fresh, fluffy snow. There is no way that this would be found on the side of the highway. Most likely, the thing did not fall off while quietly parked behind my building. The car was destined to remain unbalanced, and unloved for the rest of eternity. Not to mention, unwashed.

Maybe I would have to go to a local dealership and present Shawn with the uber-romantic gift of steel for our upcoming 9th anniversary. Nothing says stay with me another year like a hubcap!

As I turned into my work, slowly due to slippery conditions, something caught my eye. Something round and silver and shiny...and propped up against the stop sign at the end of the laneway/driveway/roadway. Unbelievable, inconceivable. There it was. I leaned over and giddily pressed the button for the emergency blinkers, and I darted across the path to pick up my lost treasure.

So, happy endings happen here in my life. I can't wait to present it to Shawn later. Should be worth a voucher for him to clean up after supper, or something!

Warning: Contains explicit references to highlighters

2011-01-31T11:27:00.000-08:00

It was a normal Sunday morning. Natalie was waking up in someone else's house after a sleepover with 8 other seven year olds. Avery was colouring quietly in her room, her hair all deliciously fluffy after a night of sleep. Off to church, and then pick up exhausted seven year old.

I was preparing some vegetables to put into a soup for lunch. Celery, the most innocuous off all vegetables. No flavour, no odour. But, I distinctly knew at that time that it was time to visit the bathroom. Yes, I had to vomit. Not sure why, felt great all morning, no twinges or hours-long battles with nausea. It was just going to happen right then.

I then proceeded to plummet into one of the outer circles of Hell. Right there in my living room, on the love seat. I have been sick before, but this was the Olympics of being sick. I banished the children to the upstairs, and they happily went, trying to drown out the noises coming from me. There I lay, freezing cold, with a blanket only three feet away, but it could have been in another town for how much I couldn't reach it. Four hours of this, and the storm blew over. But, never had I felt the Arctic chills rolling over my body, and spent many moments wondering if people actually died from food poisoning and what that would be like. Also, and close your eyes if this is too gross for you, did you know that stomach juice looks exactly like you ate a yellow highlighter for breakfast?

Unfortunately, as I rested in various locations in close proximity to one of our bathrooms, I knew that my daughters were having the time of their lives with my friend Alicia who drove all the way from Kitchener to hang out for the day. They made home-made chalk, did daring downhill sledding into rivers below and went to my favourite restaurant in town with MY husband. That sucked. Alicia, can we redo that day without you witnessing me leaning over the couch with stuff coming out of my mouth?

Today has been a symphony of Canada Dry and toast with honey. And, of course, the healing Cheestrings. That little ribbon of cheese product is the one I always go to after sick. That doesn't even make sense, but there it is. There were free sandwiches for lunch, and biscotti and now its off to a cake celebration. I will arrive, with the Champagne of gingerale in my left hand. Cheers.

Quatro-phobic

2011-01-28T17:47:00.000-08:00

And there it was.

The dreaded invitation. Simple, well-meaning, but terrifying, nonetheless. The event that screen writers are attracted to like Ke$ha to sparkly makeup. Like Slash to top hats. Like Molly Ringwald to pink lace. Like pretzels to M&M's (okay, no. That invention is a fail!).

But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me back up a bit.

There I was, sitting at my desk at work. Trying my best not to get a paper cut as files filled with documents were being read, interpreted, reshuffled and organized. My new IKEA globe lamp illuminating the edge of my workspace, and casting a glow over the fake plant on the other side of the desk. I glanced over to my computer screen, mildly wishing for a pleasant distraction. And a few messages had indeed been received in my inbox since I last checked several minutes earlier.

"Calling all Huron County babies of 1971..." the facebook email started. I was intrigued, and confused. Following the carrot, I was led into the online invitation for a hometown, high school reunion in the month of June. Not only was this a gathering of people from long ago, it was meant to be a celebration of turning 40. Ewww.

A cold shiver ran up my spine. My heart started beating with an awkward rhythm. Immediately I see who else might have been invited. So many people, and names that I remember. And some, well, who? A high school reunion? In my home town? No.

For some reason, this event has been one that has caused countless hours of daydreaming horrors. It is perhaps one of the only real phobias that I have. Being in a room with people who haven't been in my life for more than half of it. The revisiting of those days when I wore skin-tight acid wash jeans that were made even snugger by a row of safety pins of the inside of the calf. Those days when I seriously practiced my flute, and was terrified to walk down that endless stretch of ten-metre hallway where the leather-clad dudes were stretched out on the floor to mock pimply-faced girls going to the cafeteria. The making of small talk about my life, which I am terribly poor at doing.

But why the horror? Those people are not bad, or wishing me harm. Nor, is my life in such a state of lameness that I should be shamed. I just really, really hate small talk. This is precisely why I never really could bond with some of my high school friends over the inevitable boozing parties of our teenage lives. I just don't get it. And, I can't even care.

So, am I going? Waffling at this point. Maybe it would be good for me to face this fear. There is always the opportunity to re-create myself in the eyes of these people. Let them see that I made it out of the small town to find my faith deepened, getting a great University degree, figuring out that balance between a challenging job and being fulfilled with my little family. I've got a great haircut. I like the way I wear makeup. I wear real diamonds and pearls almost every day, and rock them. People legitimately think that I am amusing. I can command presence when entering a room, and hold attention if I feel like it. I have two little blond ones that keep it all real every day and who are going to change the world in a short while. I don't have all my shit together, but am flirting with getting closer to that every day.

Maybe they knew that about me all along. I'll let you know if I decide to hang out with my high school buddies for one night in June, beer in hand. I retain the option of backing out and making plans to go to the beach instead, if I would rather.

But, just to be clear, I won't be 40 in June. So I don't know what all those old geezers at the reunion will be celebrating.

OVERHEARD 2-15

2011-01-27T06:24:00.001-08:00

From Avery, aged 5 years old:

"Mommy, can I tell you something? Today Cameron C. told me that he thought he was falling in love with me."

Small smile.

Me: "Wow, Avery. Can you please tell Daddy that exact same sentence when you see him in an hour? It should be fun to watch his head explode!"

NOT tired

2011-01-25T06:11:00.000-08:00

"Oh Mommy, I don't want to go to bed, I'm NOT even tired."

"I know, sweetheart," as I reach over to her body that stopped twitching twenty minutes ago, and has been molded into my lap.

"No, really, I'm not tired." Yawn, small tears forming in tiny eyes.

"I know, lovey," as I kneel beside her bed and tuck her fuzzy pajamas under the covers.

"This is dumb, cuz I'm not tired."

"Okay, choochie-face." kiss kiss

Sleeping arrives approximately 1.2 minutes later.

An A-Typical Wednesday night

2011-01-24T09:34:00.000-08:00

If you've ever been to our house, it is apparent that the Brantons like T.V. and movies. There are a number of movies in our house that we watch infrequently, but I'm thinking that maybe I should bring them out to be watched more often. Because, I think that I should avoid an evening like the one I spent on Wednesday night to occur again.

It all began as a normal weekday night in our house. After suffering through a non-snow-day at work after a very promising storm the night before, I made it home at dusk. We tramped through our driveway, after parking the car in the street. Yes, I walked home so very slowly after picking up the kids from mom's house across the street. Shoulders down, deliberately, trying to project a deeply burdened mom-with-kids, it's going to be a long night, kind of image.

I wasn't really feeling this winter depression. I actually like the large snowfall that we had. But, I was hoping that the two neighbours who were using their snowblowers to clear their driveways would notice me and come two houses down out of the goodness of one of their hearts. You see, Shawn was arriving home within the hour and I wanted to tell him that somehow I settled down the kids, made supper, started laundry and shovelled out the driveway all by my martyr-self! Oh yeah, and see that new oil painting propped up in the living room...I was feeling creative in all of my extra time!

Ten minutes after coming home, my swell neighbour was clearing our driveway. I thanked him, and immediately put "gift of beer" on my weekend shopping list.

Shawn didn't believe that I did it.

Anyways, back to a normal evening in our house. Tuna casserole, lunch-making, laundry-folding and bathtime. Then it was 8:15 and Shawn had church work to do and I was doing some paper work to catch up as well. On goes the t.v. for background ambience.

The batteries in the remote were working. We had other shows on the PVR to watch. But, somehow we got stuck on Channel 31, TLC. Usually I stop there once in a while to watch my friends Stacey and Clinton ogle over how good they made someone's bum look in expensive jeans, but I don't dwell at Channel 31very often. (Be silent, Shawn, I do NOT!)

I did start with What Not to Wear, but this time it was Natalie from the Facts of Life! Interesting, but come on, she is a star and can hire her own fashion consultants. A little disappointing, and a little unnerving that she is 44 and looking it!

When that was over, Shawn wanted to see the newest show that I am intrigued with, "My Strange Addiction." If you have not stumbled across this show yet, be forewarned that it is not for the weak of mind or stomach. Wow. I really can't endure witnessing these broken people for very long, before reaching for the remote to find some soothing professional sports action, where people seem relatively sane. Because these poor individuals are in a bad way when they get on this show. I barely can write it, but one poor lovely young woman had a compulsion to pull out her own hair because she liked the taste of the follicle. Shiver. Another woman ate household cleanser causing all of her teeth to disintegrate. Again, I think that this is strange t.v. and I watch in 7 minute intervals before I have to escape.

So, thinking that we were going to watch some safe, entertaining TLC show, we just kept working with the show "Toddlers and Tiaras" continuing in the background. This show has been around forever, and I have never ever watched it! After about five minutes my pen was down, papers strewn around my lap while I gaped, mouth-open at the t.v. This was crazier than all of the other nonsense we already witnessed. Could the mom, who claimed to be "competitive" really have said in disbelief that "some people don't think that 15-month-olds should be spray-tanning or wearing mascara is necessary to win this thing!" (paraphrased)

Then, pan to the 15 month old choking on ruffles with sparkles on her tanned eyelids. Next to a child who is writhing around her chair while the women around are exasperated. Why was the four year old behaving so badly? "No, Mommy, I don't want those fake eyeballs, they hurt!!" She was referring to the fact that she hated wearing fake eyelashes. But, her mother argued, she has little deep-set eyes, and the fake lashes make her eyes pop from the stage!

Wow.

As a mother of two little girls, I just can't help but think that all of this pagentry is creating some kind of different young lady than I am hoping to launch into society. And maybe, just maybe, the kind of entertainment that I should be allowing myself to absorb would not be this edge of sanity and society kind of stuff. Because God tells us to keep our minds dwelling on things that are good, pure, pleasant and wonderful.

After Shawn reached over and gently closed my open jaw, we took control of our evening and shut off the t.v. To read the Bible. There we read about some sketchy stuff happening in the tents of Jacob and the sweet Mandrake root (read drug). I'm surprised I didn't have some spooked out dreams!

P.S. I didn't even get started about Hoarders. I kinda love that show, like someone needs to slow down to see the accident on the side of the freeway.

P.P.S. What? A show called Extreme Couponing! Amazing.

Treadmill

2011-01-20T16:02:00.000-08:00

Surprisingly, it was not a New Years resolution, but Shawn and I finally have a treadmill in the house. It just happened that his Teacher's online garage sale site had someone selling a pretty nice, used treadmill a few weeks ago. We won the bid, and the previous owner even agreed to deliver it to our house. We thought that a perfect time to deliver said large piece of electronic equipment would be first thing on a Saturday. So what if so much snow was coming down that it probably would have been a snow day if it was not the weekend.

Mmmmm, snow day. Sigh. This hasn't yet happened for Shawn and me, but I can dream.

So, the lovely treadmill is now set up in our basement. There were about a dozen bath towels used to wipe off the dripping, snow covered machine. We were so tired from mopping up the snow and wiping it down and moving stuff around in the basement to accommodate it, that Shawn and I had to stop to take a break, and celebrate by sharing a chocolate bar.

Typical.

Last night, after a few days of letting it dry off in the basement (or so I told myself was a rational excuse for not exercising yet), we tried it out. As Shawn was running, I came downstairs to see if there were any errands to do, as I was running out with some almost overdue movies. He said "lets use that buy one get one free Dairy Queen coupon." I was willing, but hesitant. Hey, wouldn't that be a little counter-productive to the whole activity?

Shawn then went online to see exactly how much running a Banana Nut Blizzard would necessitate. I can't find the exact nutritional information online like he did, being the 'puter wizard that he is, but it was something like 880 calories and 56 grams of fat. For ONE!

Silence ensued. We glanced furtively at each other. I dropped off the movies. Then, turned the car around and headed straight home, strapped on the running shoes and hopped onto the new machine.

I hate running.

A Delicate Balance slash Electricity Rant

2011-01-16T17:19:00.000-08:00

It is difficult to balance all of the stuff that you are meant to fulfill in one day, at times. There are those moments when you think, fully convincing yourself, that you've kept the crazy at bay. Perhaps even convincing one's self that you were master of your own wee universe. That two weeks at full speed after Christmas is manageable and actually invigorating.

And then, your loved one asks you for a favour. Apparently, since a paycheck isn't attached to your response, the answer turns into a vehement denial. After listening to yourself rant about the ten majillion things that you accomplished throughout the day, the week, the last month without anyone else's help, it becomes apparent that perhaps one might be a little shakier than expected.

Slash

What's that noise I hear? Is it the sound of the dryer tumbling around some recently laundered clothing? Look at the clock. WHAT!!! How dare I choose to do laundry before 10:00 p.m. Surely I must be punished for the luxury of running any additional electricity in my own home before I lose consciousness after a day of answering everyone's questions, talking to angry parents on the phone, teaching my five year old to read the word "A" (that's a whole other problem!), making supper and lunches, doing errands and washing little bodies.

Yes, the prime time electricity rape charges drive me absolutely out of my mind. So, if you feel like being amused some day, just slip that into conversation over cake or when you pass me in the hall. Hold onto your hat as the hot air escapes out of my throat in an angry yawp during prime time hours.

I WILL DO MY HOUSEHOLD STUFF WHEN I WANT TO.

p.s. 10 points to whomever can remember which movie introduced us all to the word yawp.

OVERHEARD 2-14

2011-01-15T17:17:00.000-08:00

"Oh, Mommy, this one doesn't taste good. It tastes like it was made in Holland. Yuck."

Happy day

2011-01-13T09:34:00.000-08:00

If I paid real attention to horoscopes, this is what it might say today:

January 13, 2011

Scorpio

Today will start like a normal day. Before the sun rises to the center of the sky, blessings and honour will pour down on you by random people throughout the day. Your child will be full of morning kisses. People want to hold your hand. There will be multiple gifts of chocolate from unexpected sources. As you do your mundane desk job, you will be recognized as a loyal and conscientious worker. You will get shampoo and conditioner as a reward for shuffling paper work. Your hair is even cooperating on the-day-before-haircut shaggy state that it is in. Obviously the sun, moon and stars have alighted upon your head and you will be the centre of the universe for a few short hours. Enjoy. Now eat lunch.

Book clubs, plural

2011-01-10T04:03:00.000-08:00

Let us compare and contrast the two book clubs that I am in.

One is a monthly event, attended to by professors, librarians and people so much more well-read than I could ever hope to be.

The other meets when convenient, maybe monthly, maybe not. It is attended to by four ladies who are seeking an excuse to get together on a regular basis.

One meets at lunch time, where the ladies unpack salads, fruit, and other creative healthy leftover snacks to consume before going back to work.

The other has a mandate to always include wine and different kids of cheese. And Chocolate (with a capital C).

One has prepared questions, often with the leader preparing with notes and interesting historical relevant facts pertinent to understanding the story better.

The other sometimes talks about the book, and sometimes our fearless leader prepares a stimulating quiz.

One is currently reading a true story of an ex-Muslim, Somalian woman and her struggle into politics and beyond. An important read, full of current religious and political struggles and providing the strongest differences between my relatively stable North American upbringing and someone born in another country, and having much different experience.

The other, well is going back to the roots. Trying to find this month's book in the local Library, I got a little lost. Surely I know how to navigate the library computer system enough to find the author's last name and call number. But this book was not to be found in the mystery section. Or the fiction section. I finally gave up and asked the librarian. She smiled and pointed in another direction...the children's section.

Oh, that's where you find the first printing of the Nancy Drew series. To be read with glass of wine on the bedside table and a smile on my lips.

Its like having two best friends.

Bible in One Year

2011-01-09T15:49:00.000-08:00

It's time to try that read-the-Bible-in-one-year challenge again. I have completed this once before, about 15 years ago during the time at the group home. Please feel free to check in once in a while and keep me and Shawn accountable. There are some strange things in that ancient book, and I always find myself surprised by the stories. Like, why was Pharaoh punished when Abram tricked him and let Sarai live in the palace with Pharaoh? Why wasn't Abram in trouble for giving wifey away to save his own life?

More thoughts to come, but I am encouraged by just that simple discipline of trying to be in the Word a bit everyday. It just keeps things fresh in my day to day, and helps me especially with the kids. Speaking of which, I've got a five year old here beside me longing for me to put this computer away and cuddle. That sounds like a great idea.

Toronto

2011-01-08T17:27:00.000-08:00

**This post was written in November 2010, and for some reason, I never finished the final sentence**

Hats off to the great city of Toronto! We just returned from a two-day mini vacation one hour away from our house. There was zoo visiting, involving climbing on anything that wasn't covered in barbed-wire and lots of closed exhibits due to cold. But, who would have thought that the largest zoo in Canada, also has a great maple forest that was on fire with autumn oranges and gold? We spent as much time kicking stones, looking across ponds and balancing on fallen logs, as looking at giraffes saunter and oragutans taste their own pee. Mmmmm.

Then, off to Chuck E. Cheese, cuz we just had to have greasy pizza supper in the busiest kid-sino ever. But, the Esstern Toronto C.E.C. is different than the pastoral one in Cambridge. This C.E.C. was rammed full of so many many people, many of whom were hopped up on the never-ending pop combinations at the free-for-all pop bar. No joke...I actually saw an 18 month old with a black hoodie, custom jeans, high tops and a thick gold chain around his neck. Hmmmm, he had more bling on than me. Nothing says a place where a kid can be a kid like four thugs helping a toddler on a ride, then getting mad and yelling f-shots at each other.

Did Natalie and Avery notice? Not at all, for there were rides and games to be done. But we were serious about keeping the kids at arms length at all times.

Today, we slept in, and swam and made waffles. Then off to the Science Center for the day. Stars and touching things and stuff.

Fabulous weekend. That's what we like to do when Shawn has a Sunday morning off. Natalie claimed it was the best day of her life. So, then I guess that whole family vacation to Disney was, well, just alright.

Happy 2011

2011-01-07T15:33:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year to everyone. These past few weeks have been unlike some of Christmas vacations in the past. Instead of running around everywhere, all the time, to all places everywhere, there was a bounty of staying home. Wearing new pajamas. Watching my favourite Christmas movies and t.v. specials on big t.v. Sleeping past 8 a.m. several times!

Or a combination of the above and ending the day watching Jude Law in the Holiday projected onto my living room wall. Mmmmmm, Jude Law.

While sitting in the back row of Natalie and Avery's Christmas school service (read unorganized and uninteresting agenda), Shawn was covertly checking his phone. He was not standing and stretching his neck to see the 15 seconds of Avery's fame, or Natalie's little choir. No. Without any introduction or explanation, he handed me said phone to read the tiny message on the screen. He had won a two-night stay in Montreal. Thank you Porter airlines and some whisky company that I have never even heard of, much less imbibed. The catch was, it was only for two adults, and had to be over New Years Eve, 2010.

So, for the first time in 10 years, Shawn and I had real plans for New Years Eve! Sans kids. We left on Dec. 31st and took car, bus, ferry, plane, subway, and foot to get to our ridiculously smashing hotel in downtown Montreal. It was rainy and most things were closed, but we slept, hot-tubbed, snuck into back-to-back movies and walked around.

New Years Eve was spent sitting in front of a large glass-paned window on the second floor, overlooking old Montreal. Washing down a whole bottle of champagne. Eating three courses of fondue: cheese, meat and chocolate. My favourite food groups!

Then, it was back to Ontario, and back to work. I am hoping to keep that sweet calm of resting, travelling and reading surrounding the crazy that is regular January life. So, if I am looking dazed once in a while, I am trying to recapture the memories of wet Montreal streets with my husband.

OVERHEARD 2-13

2011-01-06T15:32:00.000-08:00

"Those aren't toe-nails, those are toe-knuckles. Can't you tell the difference?"

Don't enter if you have a fever

2010-12-20T18:12:00.000-08:00

This is the the third year of one of our favourite family traditions. Shawn and I have decided that the best way to kick off Christmas vacation is to go away the very first weekend once school is out.

Two years ago, we started this tradition. We looked forward to our night away for the last few weeks of school. Weren't we surprised when the only snow day of 2008 was on Friday, the last day of school. And, since Shawn loves snow days like a 9-year-old boy and gets up at 5:30 in anticipation, we never sleep in. So, we grabbed our overnight bags and slowly made our snowy trek to Niagara Falls. That year, it was so snowy that the shuttles to fun places in the Falls were closed and we could walk down the centre of the empty roads. Avery, being only three, was not so interested in wading through snowbanks for an IMAX movie, but the rest of us thought it a fun adventure.

Last year, we used this first weekend of Christmas vacation to see the Olympic flame come through a neighbouring city. We drank Coca Cola, and got excited about the Olympics. Then, off to Buffalo for a night's stay. There we were the family of the day at the hotel and swam and played. Then, off to Disneyworld!

This year, although less princess-packed than last year, did include something new for us. Shawn surprised all three of us with a special date on Friday night. Despite all of our poking and prodding, Shawn wouldn't let us know where we were going. We found out, when walking through the glassed doors, that we were seeing the stage play of the Grinch in Toronto. Sure, the kids thought it was great, but I had a mile-wide grin over my face for the entire ninety minutes. Those are my people! That is my favourite. It was awesome.

Then, on Sunday we had one surprise for the girls after church. We whisked them away after church, with bags packed, and headed to Great Wolf Lodge. This is one great place. There we were greeted with staff making taffy on the snow, and horse-drawn wagon rides. The kids had storytime before bed, and supper INSIDE of a real gingerbread house. Oh yeah, and there was water. So much water. Slides, guns, buckets, wave pool, slides and more water.

Perhaps some of us took in too much water. We were concerned about Avery, as she had a fever on Saturday and a bit of a cold. She vowed to overcome herself and did fine. We ignored the warnings that kids with illness and fever shouldn't enter the waterpark. Avery, like her father, are sick-liers when there is something better to do than be down ill. Then, Shawn seemed to want to succumb to his cold and exhaustion. But, this did not slow him down, much.

Finally, tonight little Natalie had her last ballet class. Despite feeling poorly, she pushed herself to attend the class, as it was Christmas gift exchange party. She got changed, put on her ballet shoes and walked into her class. As she approached her teacher, carrying her gift-wrapped toy, and without warning threw up violently. No warning! No "hey mom, we'd better get to the bathroom pronto!" Present soaked in puke. All over the dance floor. McDonald's lunch. In front of her little ballet friends.

Poor kid. Poor me. I had to clean it up. Poor kid getting the present. Is it wrong that I cleaned up my kid first, then took off the wrapping paper, then checked the gift and then gave it to the kid. Probably, but this is what I did. Then, cleaned the floor. And reassured and comforted my child that although she was completely embarrassed everyone knows that sometimes that just happens. And that I can't even care if I have to clean up after her sometimes. Because I love her. And, she didn't do that in my car! Phew.

And, ballet teacher, where is Natalie's present? Because I didn't bring her in here, and clean up all that stuff for no gift! There was no gift for Natalie as she stood there feeling crummy. But then the nice people found one for her.

I'm just biding my time it seems. Merry memorable Christmas 2010.

Autumn Craft Day

2010-12-09T06:43:00.000-08:00

On this first real week of wintry weather, let's recall the days when you didn't need to wear mittens and scarves, but could go out into warm sunshine with a hoodie and your friends to keep you warm. One day near Thanksgiving was just that kind of day. I was home, and decided that the kids should also be enjoying a long weekend for no pressing reason. Just because it feels good, and we can spend time together doing crafts with Alicia.

So, off we went hiking beside the river in town. There our task was to pick up as many beautifully coloured fall leaves as possible. Avery got a little distracted with caterpillars a few times, but found two or three.

She looks like a 13-month-old behind that leaf. Mmmm, delicious fall rosy cheeks.

Part of the craft that we were hunting and gathering for included a number of those fat, wide pine cones. Harder to find than you might think in the wilds of Haldimand County. We went all over the path, drove down various side streets and near parks, and then finally all crept out of the car and raided some stranger's front lawn. Many giggles and covert glances at their porch, and then three minutes later their front lawn was much cleaner. Wonder if they saw us.

Here's our autumn craft! I'm pretty sure Avery was done with the whole activity an hour before us and was probably colouring or watching T.V. by this time.

Royal Winter

2010-12-07T08:23:00.000-08:00

If you haven't gone to the Royal Winter Fair, well you should. You can get free potatoes, pencils and taste test random foods from the great North Ontario district. You can also see some gleaming cows, bunnies and other farm stuff, paired with the best well-meaning mini-farmers from 4H groups across this great province.

You can also be super cool and make a big puzzle. Cool, like Shawn.

Neat like Natalie.

The One and the Only

2010-12-04T06:36:00.000-08:00

The day. Sunday, November 21, 2010. The place. Some prime sidewalk in downtown Toronto. The time. Tell you later, but it was long. The event. The Toronto Santa Claus Parade.

Shawn was excited that the church schedule was such that he didn't have to do stuff on Sunday, November 21. That meant that he could drag, I mean take, us all to the Toronto Santa Claus Parade. Don't get me wrong, it's not like every time he doesn't have to work at church we don't attend. Just, almost every time.

I actually had to SET the ALARM for Sunday morning, so that we could be in the city in time to get some prime real estate. Let's just think about that for a moment. We live about an hour outside of the city. The parade doesn't start until about 12:30 p.m. The kids never sleep in past 8 a.m. ever. So, we were definitely arriving in T.O. at 9:30 a.m. Crazy, you say? Yes, I would respond, and yet I totally enabled my crazy spouse to be there that early.

Last Sunday was, well, not warm. It was 2 degrees when we got there. We found a spot, under the roof of a local theatre marquis and set up camp. Chairs came out, mittens were donned, and off I went for the free "breakfast" at Yonge and Dundas square. This breakfast was a medium sized wrinkly brown bag filled with President's Choice Snacks. Not to be a jerk, since you know I love "free", but breakfast usually isn't a rice krispies treat, a pudding and little penguin crackers. Not great, but interspersed with free cheese strings and hot chocolate, we snacked all morning.

It was cold.

Thankfully, we were sitting right across from the Eaton Center. Shawn bundled me up under the red fuzzy blanket, and I guarded our post while he shopped for an hour with the kids. That was seriously the longest hour ever. It must be absolute terror to be homeless in Toronto and be unable to find a place to thaw out your extremities. Shawn came back and then it was my turn to walk around the mall.

Back out to the cold, for the parade. I was out there by 1 p.m. The parade might have started around 2:15. A great way to kill the time between 1 and 2 was to speak with the clever folks who had tickets to see Wicked, and who didn't read the memo from the theatre company. The memo that they were sent that said to use the side entrance, since the parade was going right by the front door. The memo that would have avoided them climbing over my children on lawn chairs and bashing them in the face with their fancy purses. Hey, how 'bout crossing the street at the crosswalk? No, you'd rather step on my neighbour's hands, and complain to us? Um, go to the corner. No? We were not too happy, and also impatient for the parade to pass by us already.

This didn't seem to dampen the kids spirits, though. We ended up having them sit on our laps for heat.

God bless the people who spend a whole year organizing the parade, but I have one question for them. Why would you take the day of the parade as vacation? Because I have wracked my brain, but couldn't fathom why there were 25 minute gaps between floats. I am actually not exaggerating. Half an hour breaks! And, we were in a locations where the bands seems to be finishing their songs a half a block before passing us.

Brr, it was cold. BUT, it didn't rain!

So, there you have it. The One and the Only time we need to see that parade live. Was it worth it? Um, perhaps just for posterity. The T.V. version is just fine. After the parade was over, it was supper time. Seriously, it was over at 4:30 p.m! We went out for delicious Greek food in a warm indoor location. And my thighs defrosted finally. Could have been the best part of the day. OPA!

OVERHEARD 2-12

2010-12-03T18:35:00.000-08:00

Natalie, around a fall campfire: "Okay everybody, it's time to play the sausage game."

Ariel a-glow

2010-12-02T01:53:00.000-08:00

Happy month-iversary Halloween! I am quite behind in pretty much everything, and trying to use this time home with sore-throated Avery to catch up. I have done my Christmas present inventory and will be wrapping and decorating this week too.

What do I want for Christmas? How about a year's supply of personal maid service? Or a personal chef/assistant? Or maybe that weekend with Celine Dion as we shop in boutiques in Montreal together? Okay, that last one is just a dream, but how fun would that be?

But back to October. Pumpkin-carving day. This is apparently a shirt-optional activity. No comment as to whether or not I participated thus.

Have I mentioned that Avery is one of those children that loves to touch things. mmmmm, goo.

After the goo was lifted, separated and scraped from the great orange fruit, Shawn set to work. I think that I cleaned the whole house, cooked supper, bathed the kids, and completed a 1000 piece puzzle of the ocean while Shawn carved. This man was determined to complete the most fantastic princess-o-lantern on the block. It took forever, and I took no photos of him hard at work. But, the result, oh so glorious.

Pickapumpkin day

2010-12-01T01:46:00.000-08:00

Hey, I know we are all thinking Christmas, but close your eyes and go back in time with me for a moment. Just a few short weeks.

No, open your eyes. Sorry.

Back in October we attended the great Pumpkin Fest and parade in Waterford. No joke, this was a pretty good parade, and the weather was sunny. I wish that I had taken a picture of my favourite float, but it was likely that I was using both hands to applaud loudly at the humanoid dancing chicken. So super.

As for Waterford, what a great little town. Quiet main street, Chinese food, old Victorian homes. We spent some time later that night looking at MLS to see some of the fabulous houses that were for sale. Just a little far from the rest of our current lives.

After the parade, it was time to pick that pumpkin. We went to a local farm, that had goats, fowl, a pig race and bunnies. There was also an inflatable bouncer that from the reports of other, bigger kids getting off, was being held hostage by a little girl with long, blond hair. Wonder who that was?

Just for the record, Avery is trying to grow her hair long. Sigh.

Wait for it, you are about to be educated:

Still laughing months later.

Here's our sweet pumpkin. This is almost always one of my favourite pictures of the year. Blue sky, field of orange pumpkins. My favourite folks. And, then there's Avery. Apparently she doesn't want this particular selection. How's that body language? Wonder what she is thinking! Makes me laugh to see how mad she is. Oh right, now I remember this month of October...the month of five year old stubborn rage. That's right. I was actually looking forward to her tonsil/adenoid surgery, because at least she might then break the habit of loud protest, over, well anything she didn't like. Poor Avery, I almost was ready to convince her that they were surgically removing her stubborn yelling.

My birthday, my mom

2010-11-29T02:26:00.000-08:00

Some great shots of my mom at my house on my birthday! Mom will totally be angry about this shot being shown to all:

I sometimes wish that my mom and her sister lived closer together during these years. They visit every year, but Tante Tine makes life just a little less boring and serious for mom, it seems. She always brings out the laughter and the sister silliness that they must have had in their youth.

Nice roses, huh? Bet you are thinking that Shawn was totally being romantic on my birthday. Um, well, those came home with me from Walmart since poor Shawn had to be at work for 12 hours on my birthday. I didn't think he would mind! He got me a fabulous Buddy Valestro talking bobblehead for my gift. I loved it, and he sits on my desk brandishing his rolling pin and yelling at people "my bakery, my rules!" or "everybody needs cake!" YES.

November 24

2010-11-28T07:08:00.000-08:00

Here is Avery, devoid of food and drink, ready to go to her surgery at McMaster later in the morning. Apparently having surgery equals getting very fancy.

The surgery went very well. She now has holes where adenoids and tonsils used to reside. This kid is not a happy camper when she is in pain and coming out of anesthetic. But she made it and so did I! She was really happy with the new doll that Shawn had bought for her, but needed some explaining as to why there was blood on the sleeve of her pj's and why there were needles in her hand. I thought she was very brave as they removed all that stuff from her in the hospital. In retrospect now, I realize she was completely doped up with Codeine and Morphine. Well, whatever works.

She was actually pretty good for the day of the surgery, then the next morning when all of the good drugs were completely worn off, she wailed and it took us 20 minutes to calm her down. She has since been alternately sick and lounging in bed with her sore jaw gaping, or jumping on the bed when the sweet sweet Tylenol has kicked in again.

She is, however, one stubborn little patient. Lots of making sure I was doing nothing but attending to her, terrible Barbie movies to watch and refusing her medicine. No amount of reasoning that if she takes the medicine it is better works, although last night a chocolate popsicle made it worth her while. Trouble.

Well, back to Disney movies. I'll take princesses over Barbie any day.

In my inbox

2010-11-19T06:54:00.000-08:00

Dear customer,

annoyed about bad in your marriage ?

we've just into the marked with an natural product, which will satisfy

yours, as all our customers before.

Why yes, Dr. Klaus Boechlertz, thank you for that email. I am sometimes so annoyed by bad in my marriage. Perhaps following your link that you so carefully sent to me will help. Useful, the internet is.

Don't do that

2010-11-17T11:16:00.000-08:00

Yes, there are things that make me irritated. Sometimes it is that awful wet-sock feeling after stepping into a puddle in the bathroom right before leaving for work. Sometimes it is the down-draft of the ceiling fan when my bedroom companion is stinky in the middle of the night. There are days when you are ordering your most favourite cold-fall-day drink at your favourite coffee joint, when they announce that they are out of that drink for now. Grrr.

But, most of all, it is this email:

"Why bother waiting for your degree. Don't pay all that money and spend year getting your degree. Just buy one from us!"

Major professional dilemma here. Try not sending your fake college degree mill spam email to people working at a university. It takes a lot of effort for me not to instantly reply something like this:

"You are a bad bad person."

Bad.

You.

OVERHEARD 2-11

2010-11-12T06:36:00.000-08:00

"Mommy, Mary made me stand perfectly still for one whole minute today. I wasn't allowed to move or talk."

This is how my five year old relays that she participated in the Remembrance Day ceremonies in my hometown. There was also a "girl soldier" that was sighted.

Why I need a celphone

2010-11-11T17:20:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,

This year would you put a smart, easy little celphone in my stocking? One with all of the monthly payments for free and lots of little word games to distract me from my other stuff? Because, Santa, there are moments when it is so sad that my sister seven years older is cooler than me since she texts. Also, there are times when a carefully taken covert photo would be just so amazing.

Like at lunch today, while doing some minor errands in Ancaster. I found myself in the dollar store, looking for paper umbrellas and fun crafts and other superb finds for under two dollars. While waiting in line, it hit me. I need a celphone. I probably should have secretly taken a photo of the woman in line in front of me. Because she was so amazing.

Santa, if you have forgotten, Ancaster is a very affluent suburb. The woman in front of me had a full length, real-fur coat on. She had stylish shoes. There is a strong possibility that she had had work done on her strangely smooth, yet old, face. Her white/blond hair had been coiffed by someone else recently. I am thinking probably that she doesn't do her own gardening in fear of wrecking her manicure.

But.

What this lady does do is frequent dollar stores and opens her designer purse to pay for...wait for it...bedazzling supplies. Why? To decorate the ruffled dresses that she designs and sews for her pet dog. Which was standing on the counter by the scanner. This little furry dog had a multi-layered navy blue dress on with rows of bedazzled studs decorating her gown. YES!

That is what wealthy women in Ancaster do. Me, I buy Christmas wrap and a cheap chocolate bar. So, in conclusion Santa, for my own amusement (and of course safety), I should probably have a celphone. I have been good and stuff.

Sincerely,

Linda B.

I got my dukes up...

2010-11-11T09:50:00.000-08:00

I want to come out of this corner, with my dukes up. Protecting my face and my tender girl-parts. I wish I had that energy for that kind of defense. But sometimes, after battling a fantastic fall cold for two week, I am just tired. Tired. So, here I am in my corner, with my arms around my head, feeling like I'm just ready to take it. Fine, bring it on, the fight is gone.

Does that make sense?

I probably should just go and get some strong green tea, and take the lunch break to go buy some refreshing spirits for the weekend that I so desperately need.

Plus, I am on hold with someone who has Brittany Spears, "Oops I did it again" as their waiting time music. I'm. Not. That. Innocent.

Ipad

2010-11-05T13:57:00.000-07:00

Trying out an iPad for the first time. I obviously haven't texted enough to make sense of typing like this. maybe this would be a sweet solution to my no cellphone, no personal computer life. Merry Christmas to me?

Just finished a long day of extreme Reformed theological discussion. It has made me tired, a little defensive and more confused then not. Perhaps I had forgotten just how academic the Reformers are, and perhaps to the exclusion of some other aspects of the Christian life that I would consider to be very real and important. What I know is that I enjoy life on the ground, not cruising at 30 000 feet above, thinking in philosophical and theoretical terms. Not really my thing. And yet, it was stimulating and better than handing out kleenex to stressed out students on a Friday afternoon.

Now, off to free hockey tickets to Junior A teams that I haven't even heard of before! Go you guys, go!

Thursday

2010-11-04T07:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the date of Avery's tonsil/adenoid surgery. It's not emergency surgery, by any means, for that little five year old is feeling great, growing like an enormous bean tree, and has a good strong balance of loads of love and stubborn resistance. But, her tonsils are apparently large, and this should help with her breathing at night and future ear infections and speech and stuff.

On Tuesday night, after skating, she had her second supper at 8 p.m. She loaded up with her favourite foods and drink, for the fasting was to happen. It is a little annoying to have to fast until surgery which is to happen at the same time as the end of a school day, but Avery was a champ! She spent the morning alone with me, sipping on watered-down apple juice, and having an hour-long bath with her barbie dolls, with no one around to accidentally on purpose splash soapy water in her eyes. Then, we picked up Shawn and headed down to McMaster.

There we sat for almost two hours, changed into hospital PJs, earrings dutifully removed, and bellies grumbling. But, Avery was calm and nice and only just wanted Mommy to give her attention for every moment. Waiting. Then it was time for her surgery, and we still hadn't gotten me scrubbed and ready to go in, or done any of the pre-op stuff. And then. The. Nurse. Came. To. Tell. Us. The. Surgery. Was. Cancelled.

"The doctor can't do the surgery today. He is willing to speak with you, if you would like."

"No. I'm sure we won't change his mind, if he's sent you over."

But, perhaps one look in my silent, rage-filled eyes might scare him into doing the surgery. RIGHT NOW! Because I haven't fed my kid in 19 hours. Because all three of us have taken time off of work and school to sit here and watch other people go in and out of their appointments with ease! Because we have a gift-wrapped, new dolly to give to our little five year old to help her through the pain! Because I don't want to go to work tomorrow.

No, I didn't say those things. I didn't actually say anything. I clamped my mouth shut, willed my eyes to remain dry and ripped the hospital gown off of Avery and walked her down the hall to the cafe. Where she got whatever snacks she wanted.

Then, we rescheduled the appointment upstairs in the doctor's office. Shawn was all "I understand, stuff happens..." to the receptionist. That's when my jaws unhinged and I couldn't help it, I had to say "Stop giving everyone the benefit of the doubt here. This is NOT cool, and it is their fault, not ours!", or something like that. I can't remember what I said, the blood was pounding in my ears too loudly.

We left, went shopping and had dinner. If I wasn't so hopped up on cold medicine to mask my symptoms so that I could enter the operating room, a lovely bottle of wine would have accompanied my evening.

OVERHEARD 2-11

2010-11-03T06:39:00.000-07:00

While at work, advising a student....

"Wow, you people really are human!!!!"

November

2010-11-01T07:12:00.000-07:00

November, I both love and hate you. First, it is the month of my birthday. And also two of my best friends, so historically we have loved on each other and ourselves during November. It is a month filled with bite sized snacks, lifted from my kids' trick-or-treat bounty. It is also the month when we can blast that old furnace in the basement without guilt and walk from the crisp, leaf-empty air into a blast of warm welcome.

This year I plan to set up the Christmas decorations super early. Last year the silver rubbermaid containers remained in storage under the stairs, as we were secretly planningto whisk away to Florida the moment school got out. So, I am yearning for the whitish-blue lights on my evergreen bushes outside and the classic pottery Christmas tree with the lights. I'm even going to turn on the fake fireplace more often than not, and read books in my favourite hand-me-down loveseat by the best picture window on the street.

However, the beginning of this month is going to be different than I was expecting. First, I'm starting off wondering if I have athsma, since every time I get a simple cold the old lungs just want to shut down, and rattle like my Neon that just hit 200 000 kilometres. So, I'm on two puffers, and am trying to fake healthy by a constant stupply of Benalyn Cold. I have to fake it, so that I can spend all of Wednesday in the hospital with Avery who is getting surgery on her tonsils and adenoids. This has come up really fast, and I have to be honest that it's all a little crazy. I have concerns about me taking care of her around the clock, because I am NOT a nurse! Plus, they say stuff like her voice is going to permanently change. That makes me cry, because I am very attached to her little choochie voice and even though I know I will love her new higher, less nasal voice, I will miss the original Avery, with all of her body parts attached.

But, I am planning to cash in all of my sick days to spend with Aves. I plan to have baskets of new library books to read, movies to watch and jello to eat. There will be a boatload of cuddling and hugging and napping that will happen. Cupcakes might get decorated. And my adult work will get behind, and I'll adjust when I go back. There will be a new surgery doll to play with. I might even wrap some of the Christmas presents that are already being hidden in the basement.

Toronto

2010-10-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

Hats off to the great city of Toronto! We just returned from a two-day mini vacation one hour away from our house. There was zoo visiting, involving climbing on anything that wasn't covered in barbed-wire and lots of closed exhibits due to cold. But, who would have thought that the largest zoo in Canada, also has a great maple forest that was on fire with autumn oranges and gold? We spent as much time kicking stones, looking across ponds and balancing on fallen logs, as looking at giraffes saunter and oragutans taste their own pee. Mmmmm.

Then, off to Chuck E. Cheese, cuz we just had to have greasy pizza supper in the busiest kid-sino ever. But, the Esstern Toronto C.E.C. is different than the pastoral one in Cambridge. This C.E.C. was rammed full of so many many people, many of whom were hopped up on the never-ending pop combinations at the free-for-all pop bar. No joke...I actually saw an 18 month old with a black hoodie, custom jeans, high tops and a thick gold chain around his neck. Hmmmm, he had more bling on than me. Nothing says a place where a kid can be a kid like four thugs helping a toddler on a ride, then getting mad and yelling f-shots at each other.

Did Natalie and Avery notice? Not at all, for there were rides and games to be done. But we were serious about keeping the kids at arms length at all times.

Sunday, we slept in, and swam and made waffles. Then off to the Science Center for the day. Stars and touching things and stuff.

Fabulous weekend. That's what we like to do when Shawn has a Sunday morning off. Natalie claimed it was the best day of her life. So, then I guess all that flying to Florida and making sure she had a breakfast with princesses in the castle with chocolate cake at 9:30 in the morning of her birthday was well, just okay.

OVERHEARD 2-10

2010-10-23T06:26:00.000-07:00

"The Lion King is Shakespeare! Get over it."

Thanks, Marnie.

Parenting Conference

2010-10-22T06:26:00.000-07:00

On my birthday weekend, I plan to spend two days at church. My gift to myself is going to a parenting conference, and not actually being around the kids. Hopefully there will be humour, encouragement and refreshment. There definitely will be a very attractive worship leader at the front!

Man, do we need some refreshment and encouragement. At 8:00 a.m. yesterday morning I almost took out the digital camera to record the epic tantrum. The recording could be used worldwide to convince people who think that children will enrich their lives and/or save their marriage that they couldn't be more WRONG. Sometimes those same children who crawl into bed with their icy morning feet for some warm and gentle cuddles turn into snot-dripping, tonsil-bleeding screamers. And they make you late for work.

Why?

Well, pants of course.

So, in preparation for the parenting conference I have come up with the following questions for the expert in parenting:

1. So, you have a five year old child that you love dearly. But, sometimes the child has an irrational rage regarding, let's say, wearing socks. YOU TELL ME what to do! And then, come to my house and actually see if it work, because, man I have doubts.

2. If a small child will only agree to wear one set of clothing, and also refuses to bathe, is it ever appropriate to just throw said child into the gentle cycle of the washing machine?

3. Remind me why we do this again?

4. Some sound advice regarding trying to cook supper as soon as you get home from a crummy day at the office. I know in my head that plying the littles with cookies and chips and junk makes them eat less of the healthy food I am lovingly preparing, but my sanity says do what you have to to get them out of the kitchen! To summarize the question: how much should one spend on a private chef?

5. Um, well, can you just come to my house for a few weeks, so my husband and I can jet off to Barbados for an all-inclusive?

That and other questions will be on my clipboard, when I sit perched in the front row willing and able to absorb some good parenting advice. I will be a mixture of willingness to learn, and good, old-fashioned cynicism regarding any feel-good ideas to deal with rage.

P.S. In between writing this post, we received the surgery date for Avery's tonsils/adenoids. It is in early November, so I am tossing up whether or not to tell her that we are surgically removing her tantrum scream. In any case, we should have at least a two week respite, and maybe she can get herself under control during that time!

OVERHEARD 2-9

2010-10-18T08:52:00.000-07:00

Me: "Oh man, if we owned a Tim Horton's we would have to train all of those stupid teenagers!"

Natalie: "Mommy, am I going to be a teenager one day?

Me: "Yes."

Natalie: "Am I going to be stupid?"

OVERHEARD 2-8

2010-10-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

"Excuse me sir, are you interested in signing up to get our free promotion?"

Shawn replies: "No thank you, I don't like free."

Yeah, right.