Throwback's Babies

Thanks to Pinks & Blues for this wonderful tradition. I look forward to Thursdays for fun trips back in time! Here we go...

We've been visiting with babies as much as we can this summer, for obvious reasons. So I've been poring over old photos for my baby photos. And there are quite a few, because I was baby numero uno.

This first is a montage of some cute pictures that my folks took very early on...obviously very young, they had me just a year after they married. My mom looks so chic, the original yummy mummy don't you think? I especially like that photo of her holding me in the red dress. Katie Holmes and Suri come to mind when I see that photo, as we're so dressed up! I love my mom's kitten heels. My dad, looks so young ... and tired! The last photo is one of my mom's favourites as she posed me to look like a doll. I like my hair like that, she must have used a lot of my Dad's brillo cream.

Here's my little sister, in a bouncy chair, and birthday hat!! So cute... I think her baby J looks A LOT like her mommy as a baby:

This shot was taken at Expo '67 in Montreal. So I was about 2; I like the hat. Mom was always keeping me in stylin' form as a tot!

Finally, this is a shot of some of my family on an outing to the Ausable Chasm. There's my mom, my aunt and cousin in their cool sunglasses, my next older cousin (cool fashions for kids back in the day!), me, and my grandmother holding my baby sister. So my father took the photo.

My aunt always gets a big kick out of these types of photos from way back. She pointed this out to me one day: "Look at all the people we got into ONE CAR!!!!" Not a minivan either! Obviously, seat belts and carseats for kids were not a requirement back then. Lucky we made it to adulthoood, don't you think?!

Lost Together for 14 years and counting...

"Strange and beautiful are the stars tonight
that dance around your head;
in your eyes I see that perfect world
I hope that doesn't sound too weird;
And I want all the world to know
that your love's all I need
all that I need
and if we're lost
then we are lost together
yea if we're lost
then we are lost together"

-by Blue Rodeo

It's our 14th anniversary today. Fourteen years ago to this day, I was literally just around the corner from here in my parents' house acting out the part of bridezilla quite effectively - stressing, trying to get my hair and make-up just so, pulling on my dress, yelling at my mom, sister, bridesmaids (who wanted to nail my headpiece/veil to my head), worrying about the guys, the wedding programs, the music at the church, the flowers, the centrepieces, all the minute details that add up to a wedding and reception. And a second reception the next day.

But there was one thing that I wasn't nervous about at all, the reason for the brouhaha. It was the man I was marrying that day. And that's what got me through the whole experience, knowing that the one most important decision of my life was absolutely the right one.

What started out as head-over-heels "I can't believe we didn't start dating until the end of the summer" long distance bliss, transitioned into a young adult courtship with its typical ups and downs ("is he/she, isn't he/she the one?"), and finally morphed into a real, honest, blinders-off relationship between two people who loved, understood, and were ready to be strong for each other. To build a life together, not based on fairy tale endings, but on a foundation of trust, honesty, passion, affection and most of all fun and laughter.

Here's the happy couple in the style worthy of any bridal magazine:



My favourite photos, though, were taken by my sister in asepia style and presented to me in a special photo album as my birthday present that year...



And this is the real reason it's worked all these years ...



We're still crazy and still having fun.

I don't have to hear that wedding song to have lovely memories of that beautiful celebration of our union. I feel it every morning when I wake up to you and our cutie-pie kids scurrying around in the hallway.

Happy Anniversary to my original sweetie. I love you.

Sweet Baby Sunday

What a beautiful morning, sun was shining, hubby was home, we were ready to enjoy a great day together, preferably away from the house. Rather than finalize the paint colours (I'm so baaaad!) we made an impromptu visit to my sister's, basically raiding her fridge of the food that was stocked up by my parents for her to eat this weekend. That's what big sisters are for, aren't they?

We woke up this morning and realized that Ian had only had a visit with his new niece that one time on the day she was born, at the hospital. She's now a whole month old! Time flies by when you're having fun, doesn't it? And she just keeps getting cuter, and cuter; and chubbier and chubbier.

So this is new niece number one, lovely baby J:



Now with her very proud, very giggly cousins- check her cute church lady "Oh" :


She even gave the kids a fleeting little smile (or gas grimace, but we like to think it was the former).

After our visit, we headed to the Buskerfest which was held in St. Lawrence Market - very "a propos", as we have our wedding anniversary coming up and this was the first neighbourhood we lived in when we were married. En route, just to get us in the mood, I suppose, I spotted and actually got a picture while hanging out of my so-downtown minivan, of this guy:


No words.

Anyway, to be honest, we were a bit disappointed with the Fest, primarily because we couldn't see any of the acts. It was a bit too crowded, and the girlie had fallen asleep so we weren't exactly mobile with the huge Lincoln style stroller butting through the crowds. There were a lot of vendors, which, (and I hate to say this because you know how much I like to shop), were more of a distraction and made the crowds worse. There was a lot of clapping around certain areas, but that's the most frustrating, to hear all the appreciation but not have a clue what was going on!

So we ended up buying the little guy an orange balloon sword, a few extra Croc charms, and then headed home. But not before I got a picture of this:



All I can say is, "Interesting". I don't like facial tissue THAT much.

But at least we were downtown on a lovely summer day, visiting with adorable family and able to savour one of the last real weekends of the season before school starts.

Clear, Transparent Danger- and a saga

You've probably noticed that I've been making the time to blog on a daily basis. This despite having a house that is a wreck, and a million things to do. "How does she do it?" you may ask. Well, I do it while I'm taking significant breaks from my tedious, sweat-generating wrestling matches with the clear, sticky shelf-liner I purchased from Wal-Mart. Can you think of anything more taxing on your nerves than wiping down the shelves, measuring and cutting along the gridlines just so, and then sealing these pristine surfaces with nary a bubble in sight? Bubble-less? Impossible even after a half a dozen tries per shelf. Gawd!

And of course, hubby hasn't been in sight either, hence more face time on the computer for me. Muah-ha-ha!

***

The Saga

As I was trying to get the kids to bed last night at the early hour of 9:30 PM, the phone rings. Thinking it's the hubster giving me his nightly check-in call, I pick it up ready to be all cheery. Well, it wasn't the hubby, but my contractor. The one we hired to do everything for our reno except a) the floor (because we saw some of his work and it SUCKED) and b) the kitchen cabinetry which was custom. So we asked him to do all the electricals, plumbing, paint, and family room floor.

He wanted to come and complete the job today. We had told him we would call once the kitchen cabinets and floors were in; which was just completed this week. But I hadn't because our counter tops won't be installed until next week, so there was no point for him to come because we don't have sink, faucet, etc....and we hadn't finalized the colour for the paint yet or the family room wood floor choice for that matter. I said if he wanted to come and had time then he could do what he could, but it wasn't much at this point until we were further along.

That set him off. He said he couldn't just come for a few hours here and there, he had other jobs he had to do. It was a "waste of his time" to keep bringing his tools to set up, then leave, only to come back again. Which I could understand, but that's why I hadn't called him in the first place because there wasn't a huge chunk to do yet. He wondered why the paint choice was taking so long - I said we needed to have the cabinets and floors, and granite chosen to be sure of the colour (obviously, aesthetics aren't a huge concern for him). He said most people are in a hurry for their renos - laughed a bit sarcastically, then said that my mother had told him we were slow, but this was too slow for him. Yeah, basically he was saying he didn't know what our problem was and we were taking too long. Told me I should call him in OCTOBER to finish the job.

Well that set ME off. Who's the client in this scenario again? Can you believe this? I was livid. I said that I couldn't NOT have a kitchen for another month, and that I understood that he didn't like to be pulled in only every so often, which is why we hadn't called to confirm with him until we had everything set. I could have also (but didn't) mentioned that cutting two chunks out of my dining room wall wasn't part of the contract either (although they did patch them and I'm assuming will paint over it -if I can find the original paint).

Anyway, we left it that I'd go over everything with Ian and get back to him with our plans this week - that he should be prepared to come after Labour Day.

Now I don't know whether I should give him the benefit of the doubt that English isn't his first language; but his language skills are a lot better than he's ever let on to my mother (who referred us to him several times) or my siblings. Actually, she sends him a lot of work. I know he's given attitude to my brother and sister before, but he's always been OK with me, and he's always chuckling with Ian. I should have taken the paint job he did for my brother as a warning (he got the wrong hue of paint for them, only slightly off so they could live with it, but that wasn't the point - he never apologized or offered to get the original paint they had chosen).

I don't mind him asking about scheduling etc. and I fully understand that he needs to keep his jobs going and it is his busy season. But really, there's no need for him to raise his voice and say things which I found personally insulting. And we have already booked the job with him, as opposed to other jobs which he is still seeking.

So then I called Ian. Who agreed that Mr. C. was being a p#&ck (trying to keep this PG folks) but that he figured he was annoyed because we didn't hire him for more work. Told me to let him call him back and he'd straighten him out. Said if he ever gave me that type of call again, I should just say "Talk to Ian". Yeah, my knight in shining armour.

So you know where I'm going now... let's call in my henchwoman ... MAMA!

Well, no, I didn't do that. But mom coincidentally called me about an hour later about baby stuff. And then I mentioned my conversation with the contractor briefly. To which Mom jumped through the phone and said ... "Let me tell him off tomorrow". She's so funny!

I told Mom it wasn't necessary for her to contact him. I just want him to finish the job so I can get my kitchen completed, and completed nicely. THEN she can call and tell him off!!

I don't think she'll be sending any more work his way, though. And although I had initially considered him to do our next reno (basement), based on this conversation I'm not so sure. But maybe I'm just a hothead and too sensitive. Or maybe not.

Well, now that it's off my chest, maybe I'll get over it. Whatever -- just get this thing off my head!

While Amy Winehouse is in rehab...

maybe Giselle can take over her North American tour dates?

A Different World

I've been missing the wonderful tradition started by my lady friends at Pinks and Blues, so I'm happy to participate again. For this post, I'm going to the very recent past - just a stone's throw back to this time last year on a trip of a lifetime with my husband -- WITHOUT the kids. To a place that I had never imagined travelling to as a destination of choice. And now, after a day inside spent crouching, dusting, vacuuming and wiping down shelves, cupboards, and baseboards, I'm yearning again for that lovely part of the world ...

Beautiful ICELAND!

We took the following shot just after we arrived into the capital city of Reykjavik, it was such a gorgeous, clear day:



And I was sooooo happy to be here:



This was a work trip for Ian, and I was only ECSTATIC to tag along. We wanted to optimize our time there (5 days) so decided to take an adventure tour on a jeep, complete with an amazing driver/guide, and four other men. Me, girly me, on an adventure tour. More on that later.

Here's the jeep, our guide, and the spectacular terrain:



Here's me at Pingvellir National Park - site of world's first parliament; started by Vikings no less. And I'm looking happy still:


Gorgeous Hraunfosser Waterfalls:


Deildartunguhver - most powerful geothermal spring in Europe. Yup, I'm full of hot air...


So this is as adventure as I get. We signed up for the optional snowmobile tour up the glacier. Yes, me, who grew up in a hermetically sealed, air-conditioned abode in Scarborough. Opening the windows was roughing it for me. Initially we were going to rent one snowmobile for the two of us, but I was getting so pumped during the drive up the mountain that I convinced myself that I could drive one all by my lonesome. Much to the thrill of Ian, as he fully intended to tear around on his own without a monkey on his back. [He was, after all, a motorcross racer in his youth.]. Do I not look totally amazed that I made it up to the TOP OF THE WORLD!:



Together again... Ian's glad I didn't flip backwards on the skidoo coming up the hill. Looking extremely happy again, but we are missing our kidlets, honestly we are...



We stayed in the chic 101 Hotel Reykjavik. It's listed in several design books as a place to see (and be seen, I suppose). Accomodations were very modern, sleek, white, and there were interesting pieces of artwork throughout the lobby. This is a view of one of the exterior walls looking up from the bar/restaurant. I wonder if this was mammary-inspired? I had just finished weaning the little one, and I've always had breast-envy regardless - could explain why this wall fascinated me so?



While Ian was at his meeting, I took the opportunity to do some shopping and sightseeing. Shopping was great - expensive, as most things are in Europe, and probably more so in Iceland because of the extra transportation to get things there. I had a late lunch and even later dinner all on my own.

Here's a shot of the beautiful interior of Hallgrims Church found just in the middle of town:



Well, G's just woken up from her nap, so I'm back in Reno-land. At least I'm still on vacation from cooking!

A Teaser

Here's my poor attempt to get sexy with my reno. A sneak-peek at the progress in the kitchen to date. An even poorer attempt at artsy-architectural photography - please don't laugh.

We still can't believe these are in our kitchen:





I don't have an artistic bone in my body. Those went to my uber-talented designer/architect superwoman sister, and my techy younger brother.

Oh well, at least I can clean if I really have to. But even that's difficult, especially when Wolf Blass beckons...

"I'm Chinese"

Lately, the little one has taken to introducing herself to anyone she meets as "G-zoh. I'm Chinese." I have no idea where she got that from (or maybe I do...remember, we did spend over a week at the grandparents' place. Mom's never been too subliminal with her messages.)

I don't think she really knows what she means. The way she's saying it, it's almost as if she's declaring, "Hi my name is G and I'm smart".
Ask her "Is Daddy Chinese?" - "NO!".
"Is Goh Goh (big brother) Chinese?" - "NO!".
"Is Mommy Chinese?" "NO!".
One and a half out of three ain't too bad!

We've never specifically talked culture with her, always figuring she's been a bit young, and that she would absorb a lot of it by osmosis, just by participating in any traditions that we still adhere to. Haven't really done so with her big brother either, although our attempts to get him to take more than one year of Chinese language school were in vain. It was stressful for him, primarily because for the year end play he didn't get a speaking part - he was just a tree in the back. Honestly, I wouldn't have gone back to Chinese school either if they had made me act as vegetation.

Whatever the source of this latest and greatest, I find it quite refreshing that she proclaims this so proudly. It should make it easier for her to appreciate any cultural traditions that we'll expose her to as she gets older. She already loves the noodles, so we're off on the right foot.

Aren't those dolls cute? My sister got them, the Asian mother, son and daughter, for G's 2nd Christmas after the doll house they gave her for her 2nd birthday. The next present will include the Caucasian father LOL! Even funnier is that the son has dreadlocks, much like the look my boy was trying for this summer :)

In the Land of Marble and Granite

I think I can safely say that we're starting to have fun. We can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Three weeks into our major kitchen and first floor renovation, our marriage is still quite intact and our kids haven't totally turned into video addicts as we've let them languish in front of the TV, DVD player and/or video game consoles.

We made our decision on the granite counter top today. This is after about half a dozen trips to the fabricator and the wholesale supplier of the granite slabs. We were back and forth to the flooring suppliers more than a dozen times, so we're finally getting the hang of it.

Fascinating world, so foreign to us, we who are used to the sterile, fluorescent-lighted "Office Space" environment. The fabricator's premises almost looked like a junkyard - we passed by it the first time as the signage was up on a chain-linked fence. We were looking for the Rottweilers to come charging out at us any moment, but once we went into the office we met fancy, bubbly Maggie with the funky redstreaks in her hair, cute wedgie sandals and a perma-smile on her face. She loved the kids. When she took us around back we were amazed at the size of the slabs. We reserved a slab called "Nero Angola". Then she suggested we check out a couple of other wholesale suppliers, who actually supply her business as well. This whole process was so new to us, so we happily (after negotiating with Liam a few times, and also arranging impromptu playdates for him) ventured to the wholesale spots.

Who knew that driving along the highways and past the industrial plazas in Concord and Woodbridge areas, there was this hidden land of Granite and Marble. Huge warehouses full of giant stones from India, Italy and various other countries. Huge trucks on the roads in the vicinity as well...presumably lugging around slabs of granite and marble.

The process goes something like this - we tag a piece that we like, give our fabricator a call for her price, she chats with the wholesaler and gives us a price, then this piece is reserved for us for about 10 days, giving us the opportunity to look around before we finalize our decision. We reserved another slab, "Nero Impala", and kept an eye on "Black Pearl", as our third choice. And then Ian proceeded to get very confused as to which stone we had reserved, and which we were still contemplating. The one thing in common was Nero/Black in the name of the stone. And that women were the ones in charge of all the showrooms and administration. Very interesting, as I've always thought of these industries to be so male-dominated.

When all was said and done, and the cabinets were taking shape with the installed floors, we decided we needed a bit more warmth in the granite. The differences among the stones we were choosing were so subtle, microscopic. This one was too "flecky", the other one too "veiny", yet another too "sparkly". I almost started losing patience again. Almost. But now I'm just happy.

The Chosen One: Black Pearl

A Life outside of Reno

Today we decided to do something completely unrelated to the renovation. Hallelujah thought the kids, I'm sure.

Brilliant man that he is, the hubby involved the kids in determining the top three things to do today. They entailed going down to High Park for some cycling and maybe checking out the zoo there, lunch around that neighbourhood, and then coming back to the grandparents' condo for a swim. Anything that involved cycling is a big thrill for the boy these days. The girl just loves to go anywhere the rest of us are going, which is perfect. It will be a change when she gets a real vote in the family.

For lunch, rather than High Park, we went to Roncesvalles village, an area that Ian lived in while we were dating, just before we got engaged. He lived in a house with two other guys (one an old friend from highschool). He even learned a bit of Polish while living there (just enough say hello in the meat shops). Just driving into that area brought back so many memories for us. It's a very eclectic neighbourhood, with older homes, many of them semi's, likely built around the early 1900's. Lots of beautiful trees, young families, students. Little grocery stores, deli's, pubs; snapshots of our previous life.

We popped into this pub called "Loons", which has a wicked patio in the back. We'd been there years before, when it was another restaurant. No kids back then; the vibe was certainly different for us this time. Our kids are pretty good, but there was still a lot of catering to them, not so much time to enjoy the ambiance or focus on the lovely pints of Steam Whistle beer that we ordered for the occasion. Lunch conversation consisted of playing tic-tac-toe on the kids menu while discussing whether hubby will be home for our upcoming wedding anniversary... at least we were able to sit down for most of the meal as we gave G a hiatus from the toilet-training.

Afterwards, we headed over to High Park, taking a drive through the neighbourhood where we bought our first house together. After living in the suburbs for 7 years, everything looks so cramped. It is technically the "Junction" part of town, but we liked to think of it as Upper Bloor West Village, as it was only a 5 minute walk away to the great shops, restaurants and services on Bloor. A lot has changed in that time that we've been away. There's now a Walmart not far (a good thing?!); the area of Dundas St. W doesn't look as "rough" or barren as it was when we lived there.

Sensory memories are so incredible. I was trying to explain that feeling that came upon me as we were driving through our old neighbourhood. So difficult to put into words, sort of like the sensations that you experience when a certain song brings back vivid memories. The feeling of excitement, being newly married, with our first house in a picture-perfect, tree-lined neighbourhood. Our whole future coupledom starting on such great footings.

Ian didn't really feel it as he wasn't in love with our first house. He always found it too cramped (for me it was "cozy"). We had a beautiful deck/carport but it was at the end of our backyard, and the raccoons took it over as their condo. The last straw was the winter that Bad Boy Mayor Mel Lastman brought the army in for the terrible snowfall. Ian got on the roof of the house to push the snow off - he was worried (with good reason) about our roof caving in. And he had the time, as we couldn't move for a couple days as the streets were too filled with snow and couldn't be plowed. Check out the red pants:



Although he had loved the neighbourhood. We both did - in fact we looked there for a bigger place when I was pregnant with Liam, but we lost out on more than a couple of houses due to bidding wars, and the market back then was nowhere near as hot as it is now.

We made our way over to High Park, and the boys hit the bike trail while us girls hit the playground. Give G a swing and she'll love you for life. After playing there and mucking around in the sand a bit, we had to make a dash over to the Grenadier restaurant to meet the guys. Along the way I saw a sign for the High Park Stage - Shakespeare in the park. More great memories - I used to come down all the way from Scarborough with girlfriends to sit on the grassy hills and watch the free productions of Dream in High Park in the summer. When we were so young and so starry-eyed.

We never made it to the condo for a swim. It was too brilliant out, so we basked in more sunshine before heading home.

Toronto has so much to offer in the summer. I'm so glad we took the time to enjoy some of it today. Summer is just whipping by and there's so much yet to experience before school starts again.

Really Gotta Get a Life

Remember these?



Well, they're gone, gonzo, disparu, arrivederci, outta-here, 2(nah-nah-nah-nah)-hey,hey,hey-good-bye!

Because now we've got these:




Ahhhhh...slo-mo cabinetry. So smooooooth. Love. It.

I'm Floored!

Corny, corny title, but I'm so thrilled that the tile we chose is looking absolutely, fantastically smashing!!! Because it is going to have to live up to its porcelain name and be so durable to withstand the shenanigans of a growing 2 year old monkey chasing her superhero-inspired big brother and all his bigger friends.



Who knew one could get so excited about porcelain tiles. Gotta get a life, I know.

The fun is just beginning as we have to go over the whole house with our shop-vac - dust-city! My pal Bec warned me about not using the central vac for too much dust after a reno. Her basement reno cleanup ended up clogging her central vac motor and resulted in her having to purchase a new motor for it. Don't want any added expenses as that's happening on its own, thank you very much.

Ordered the sink and faucets and soap dispenser finally. Next we've got to finalize the countertops, paint colours, backsplash. But cabinets being delivered tomorrow - Yee-haw!!!


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

CSI: ZABOO-LAND





Speaking of monkeys, missing Rainforest Cafe Lemur has yet to be found. Latest evidence located in the corner behind our study door. Must have been spooked and lurked here during the tiling job. Kids are working on the case as we speak. Will keep you posted.

PS - yes, that's DUST!!! Maybe lemur suffocated!

No Way!!!

You Are Marcia Brady

Confident yet kind. Popular yet down to earth. You're a total dream girl. You've got the total package - no wonder everyone's a little jealous of you.

What Brady Are You?

A Date with Matt Damon

(chaperoned by the Hubster)

Saturday night was an impromptu date night! Whoo-hoo!

We took the parental units (how dated is that expression) out for dinner at Il fornello. They are watching the carb content in their diet, but everyone needs a treat once in a while. Especially my mother who has been cooking and babysitting almost round-the-clock since the newest grandbabies were born. It was nice for them to enjoy some sit-down time with the older grandkids, chat a bit, enjoy their pizza and pasta. The restaurant wasn't too busy so it was a very nice atmosphere for the six of us. And to top it off, Giselle actually ate some multigrain pizza (crust, anyway). The only way we could get her to eat it was to have the threat of the crust-monster, Grandpa, ready to eat up her supper if she didn't do it first. Worked like a charm, and we all got some laughs out of it too.

We got back to the condo at about 9:15. We'd been thinking about taking advantage of the situation and going to see a movie after dinner, as my parents were going to stay in anyway. Although we were both pretty tired, after getting the kids ready for bed, we decided that we should get out to see the 9:50 show. That's LATE!!! I know, but beggars can't be choosers. We headed out at 9:40 figuring the most we would miss would be the previews.

The Silver City parking lot looked packed; but when we got closer, it was mostly people vacating their spots. We hurried up the steps and into the entrance only to be greeted by another series of crowds lined up in the fastlane automatic payment lines. Somehow through my strange out-of-it meandering path I made it to the front of the line -- always amazes Ian that I manage to do that sometimes. We got our tickets, walked right into the cinema #5 and it was so quiet I commented that it looked like it was empty! Spoke too soon... once we made it all the way inside we saw that it was packed to the rafters, and we were stuck at the third row from the front. Which is a terrible spot at the best of times, but particularly bad for action. But we had to remind ourselves that this was a treat, so we were ready to make the best of the situation. We just anticipated needing some major massage therapy for the neck after the show.

The previews came on and it was crazy! One screenshot after the other of violent, vengeance and/or war related scenes. Lots of shoot-em-ups, bloodletting, loud music, (one with the requisite Mark Wahlberg - why is he always in a movie about brothers?). I hadn't heard of a single one - I am so behind on my entertainment trivia it is pathetic. I was so tense after the previews I was almost hyperventilating. Could I survive the actual movie?

The Bourne Ultimatum. Third in a series of action/suspense thrillers starring Matt Damon. Career saving series, according to him. Some people call the Jason Bourne character the James Bond of his generation. With these performances, I tend to agree.

I've seen all three of the movies. The first one was a surprise - I've never been a huge Matt Damon fan, he was all right in Good Will Hunting; I found him a little blank in "Talented Mr. Ripley". I know he was in the Ocean's series (over-hyped, inflated ego cast movies). Other than that I couldn't really name any other movies of note that he'd been in. Until Jason Bourne came along.

I'm generally a squeamish, girly-girl at these movies, but if it's well done I can be very appreciative. I was sufficiently impressed with Bourne Identity, to watch the Bourne Supremacy. I've been out of the loop with movie stuff so the announcement of the Ultimatum wasn't big news to me. Good thing it managed to hit my radar because I LOVED it!!!!

While some people say you don't need to see the first two in the series, I would say it would definitely help. The premise is that Jason Bourne is a trained assassin for the CIA, who starts having second thoughts about what he does for a living. He's been remembering each and every hit; wondering why he's killing people he doesn't even know, doesn't know who is he, who he was before. So he's trying to figure this all out. And someone doesn't want him to figure anything out, so he's continually being hunted along the way. This is the movie where it all comes together and he remembers it all.

There are amazing chase scenes, hand-to-hand combat is phenomenal. The camera work is purposefully shaky to give you the feeling that you're actually there in the fight. It works to great effect in the fight scenes, although rather annoying in the CIA office backdrop. Sure, it's a formula movie, but that's what I went there expecting and wanting, and it delivered in spades. There wasn't any real romance, although a possible hint of it showed up very briefly. Just enough to keep you guessing.

Some great actors in there, including Joan Allen (looking great!), David Strathairn, Julia Stiles, Scott Glenn (looking not so great - OLD!). But Matt was fantastic! I know he only has so many expressions on his face, but they managed to fit the role perfectly. He looked tormented, determined, angry, frustrated all at once, or within varying degrees of each other as appropriate. Too bad Matt is on record as saying this is the final time he'll play Bourne. I would see number 4 if it was ever made with Matt Damon in the cast. I don't think it would be the same without him.

After the movie, Ian asked me if I wanted to go for a drink. I said "Are you asking me out on a date?". And he said "Yeah, wanna?" We got back to the condo at about 1:30 in the morning. I felt about 19 years old again.

Yes, it's still possible to have fun without the kids!

Less than perfect moments

You probably figure from my depiction of my children that they are the most wonderful, loving, perfect little beings that bring nothing but endless joy to my life, can do no wrong and that I should be nominated for Parent of the Year. Sure, the way I go on and on about their milestones and the absolute bliss that fills my days 24/7. And that's certainly the case the majority of the time. Well, that gives you one side of the story.

I don't share their sibling squabbles, screaming matches, temper tantrums and the like here. Usually because I don't want to re-live them, wish to ignore them, perhaps pretend that they never happen; but more likely because I know they're really nothing beyond the run of the mill everyday scrapping that occurs between a brother and sister, a parent and child. Everyone feels like pulling out their hair in frustration from time to time; Giselle just takes things a bit literally as she yanks her brother's scalp, in an effort to share a "loving sibling experience".

The other day as we dropped by the house to check on the flooring, Liam took the opportunity to play with his buddies across the street. When it came time to go, he was so angry with us, he stomped into the van and started to cry, scream and wail with frustration. Now normally he would listen to reason as we acknowledged his disappointment that he couldn't play longer. We told him we had to make some final rounds to look at granite, that the faster we made these decisions the sooner we could get the kitchen done and be back at home so he could play with his pals as per usual. He wasn't buying any of it, just continued to lie there and cry. Giselle climbed up next to him to make sure he was OK, but he was in no mood to entertain any of her attempts to make him feel better.

At our wits' end, we just helped him get buckled into his seat as he kept up his tantrum - at this point it was a battle of wills. He probably knew he was beyond the point of no return, that his behaviour was quite childish, but he'd started down that route and had no option but to keep the crying going. And going. And going for what seemed like an eternity but more realistically the next 30 minutes. Giselle was quite cute as she tried to cheer him up with her "Gary the Snail" key chain riding on her toy dolphin. "Look Liam, look at Gary - oomph! Ha ha ha!" Despite her best efforts, he continued whining at the top of his lungs.

It was getting a bit ridiculous, I was getting very angry as it was distracting for the drive. Ian was busy trying to placate him by promising stuff just to calm him down. This is where our parenting philosophies differ a bit. I'm the bad guy. At the back of my head I'm thinking "This is silly, he's 7 years old, there's no way I would have gotten away with this type of behaviour at his age, he knows better...". I would have none of it. Short of threatening to toss him out at the next intersection, I let it be known that his collection of PS2 games were in imminent danger, and at the very least, any anticipated additions to said collection were also not forthcoming. And then we just ignored him. Things quieted a little because he just couldn't keep it up anymore.

When we got to the granite warehouse, he agreed to come in and sat at the reception area, where he calmed down, and became my little boy again.

I don't know if it's a chicken/egg thing, but during these rare tantrums, I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. All those parenting articles, with their sage advice -- those recommendations go out the window. I'm naturally a very impatient person. Not so tolerant on some levels. I almost have an "out-of-body" experience. I feel like a bystander, that it isn't my kid having the fit, that he should snap out of it. My perfect son doesn't act this way; I expect it from my 2 year old, but not my mature, even-tempered Liam. Perhaps it's because it is such a rare occurence, I'm not sure whether I deal with it the proper way, if there is a proper way. At some basic emotional level it's as if I pull away a little, then I feel this tremendous guilt that I even felt that disconnected from the whole experience to begin with.

At least we haven't yet had the pleasure of simultaneous tantrums from the both of them. Somewhat perfect kids; less than perfect mommy.

That sinking feeling...

Okay, another mundane post about my intensifying renovation. I feel so disorganized, or really, like a chicken with its head cut off.

We've still got so much to do in terms of choosing countertop$, faucet$, the $$$ink, back$pla$h, paint colour$. Poor Ian is driving crazily around town mostly on his own on vacation time, because the kids are just totally hating coming with us on these shopping expeditions. The smart thing to do would have been to put the Liamster into a daycamp for these few weeks, but I'm always so torn about doing that because it's nice not to be so scheduled throughout the summer. Especially when the Dad has booked the time off. We were intending to do more stuff with the kids, but reality of the renovations has really hit us so we're in a bit of a hypermode, as we scramble to get things ordered taking into account any leadtimes that might delay the project.

I feel like I've been sitting on my ass blogging all the time instead of conducting more research and sourcing products... ummmm, oh, well, that might explain things a bit!

On a milestone note, little Ms. G made it across the pool yesterday wearing just her waterwings, not letting me touch her or come within a foot of her while she did her "lap" next to big brother. It was quite amazing as she huffed, puffed and sort of puppy-paddled her way across. We've got the Olympics 2024 in mind for her now.

Living the Suite Life

We're sleeping over at my parents' condo for a couple of nights during the demolition of our floors, and it's basically the equivalent of two tickets to paradise for the rugrats. So far they've had takeout pizza, pop, a lovely swim in pool water as warm as a bath, and now, just after 11 PM, are enjoying a classic movie with the grandparents. Classic as in 1952 movie "Macao" starring Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell. The kids are totally enthralled, listening intently to Grandpa's explanations of the plotline, while munching on their favourite Chinese dinner rolls which are in abundance.

To be honest, we're not doing too badly ourselves. It is such a lovely apartment, I'm so glad my parents chose this type of accomodation when they downsized. They've worked so hard it's nice that they can enjoy this at this stage of their lives. There's security, an onsite gym with the latest equipment, a sauna, anything you really need. No lawns to mow, beautiful gardens that are taken care of, a lush waterfall that you can see from the hot tub. They have 3 bathrooms (same number we have in our house!), so while the room all 4 of us are staying in is slightly cramped, it's perfect with the ensuite. And the most important item of all, an additional room mate in the form of a COMPUTER is also residing in my bedroom. All the better to indulge my daily blogging addiction. Even my kids can tell how ecstatic I am.

It's better than being in a hotel. So we may never leave.

Procrastination

Avoidance, dragging my feet, stalling, postponement, looking the other way...

This is what happens when you're a packrat. You find things in your closet that are a trend again, except they're about 10 sizes too small and in god-awful colours. You also find all the receipts you've squirreled away so that you don't have to acknowledge how many times a year you really visit the Children's Place, Old Navy and H & M. Hubster's not an "I told you so" type of guy, because if he were, he'd be having a Hey Day with me right now. I don't have a single "purging" cell in my body. Purging - what's that, a new Bodyjam krump move?

Darn, I've got to go pack and cover up any exposed inch of whatever I might want to keep, which is EVERYTHING! All the little things I've stashed here and there, have to finally be looked at and tossed if I'm not going to need it this century. And it doesn't help that it's hot as Hades outside, so about 999 degrees inside with the air conditioning on.

Because come tomorrow, when the our tiling guru comes in with his crew, my humble abode will become a DUST-O-RAMA of the highest degree. And we've got to be out of here yet again. To visit with the grandparents at their condo; timing is actually not bad as they do their cross-town shifts during the day with the newest grandkids on the block. A-packing I will go again, for me, my kids and I. Ian's good with his bathing suit, pair of shorts, pair of jeans and a couple of T's. And no blackberry - he's on vacation.

I'm feeling a tiny bit of what a nomad's life must be like. I'm hoping to learn how to pack more lightly through this process. I never thought I'd say this, but honestly, how many pairs of shoes does a girl really need? Okay, scratch that --hubster apparently doesn't read this blog, but you never know...

Thank goodness it's not winter, or where would I put all those parkas?

Getting Way Out of the Kitchen

The kidlets and I were lucky enough to be invited to my sister-in-law's (hostess with the absolute-mostest, but don't call her Martha Stewart!) family cottage up in Muskoka for a lovely family reunion of sorts with my other SIL and her lovely daughter Jolene. Yes, hubster was invited too, after all, it is his brother's and sister's families we were visiting. But he wanted to stay back and supervise the renos (n.b. HARDHAT ). Besides, he figured they really only wanted to see the kids, as the cousins only get together a couple of times a year, and it had been a while since my niece had moved out to Kelowna 2 years ago.

I had mentioned this trip to a friend and she asked whether I was uncomfortable going up without the hubby, as it was the "IN-LAWS". I didn't even think of it -- I've known Ian's family for so long (OMG, about half my life now). I'm so lucky that we have such a great relationship with them and they are my family too. So I had no qualms whatsoever. My biggest worry was driving up there on my own, as in all the years I've been up I've never been in the driver's seat. Fortunately it was a very easy route, and I had a lovely chat with my son with the background accompaniment of rhythmic snores courtesy of my little G, who passed out as soon as she got into her carseat. Excellent! And bonus was that Ian did manage to come up for a couple of nights (alas, everyone was really quite THRILLED that he made it up - it wouldn't be the same without Uncle Even!)

One new skill I learned was how to swim to the raft one-handed, while holding a Pomtini in the other. In fact, all three SIL's got a lovely respite from their offspring who were sleeping in the balmy afternoon, and discovered we all excelled in drinking and swimming. Of course, we were drinking responsibly, limiting ourselves to one bottle a piece, although the Corona was looking mighty invitingly at me after my pomegranate fix. I felt so spoiled, as the kids were occupied by their cousins and aunts, uncles and quietest Bouvier on earth, Moon. I wasn't just Mommy the whole time.

Liam also had a few firsts during this trip. He went tubing for the first time, looking so adorably hilarious with his shark-goggles, grinning ear-to-ear while his surfer/ on-its-way-to-dreadlocks hair was whipping in the wind. That's him in the back behind my niece.


Then he tried a bit of waterskiing and managed to stay up the first time:



Then he did some kayaking, and went on the canoe; even found time to make some mudpies and fossils with his sister in between adventures.


He pulled out his Nintendo only ONCE the whole time we were up there, and it was only while we were getting ready to leave. There was too much fun stuff going on with his cousins to waste on the electronics.

Giselle also conducted an experiment on her own - she went into the water with a pull-up on instead of her swim diaper (decided to go in without her swimsuit). Amazing what those diapers can absorb - sucked up a big part of the lake!!! It felt like a 50 lb weight, but she didn't even notice as she made the cave comfy for the froggy that she was trying to catch.

I had a wonderful visit with my family, the kids had some great bonding time with their cousins and aunts and uncle. And I even managed to get a little more of a tan and only a couple of mosquito bites.

Summer...LOVING it!