Be very afraid...

You never know if Ninja B-boy or TMNT -L lurk in the bushes.

This was last year's Halloween night when Li went out trick or treating with friends for the first time, good friends B-boy and his big brother C, beautiful (oops, sorry boys, SCARY) progeny of my friend Heidi over at Viking Conquest.

Here's a shot of them with our little chickadee and her Dad. Mike was there too, but perhaps he was lurking in the bushes?


Isn't one of the best things about being a parent, dressing the kids up in silly, cute costumes, a decision over which they have absolutely no control? Those poor, sweet, vulnerable kids. How horrible parents can be!

Here's poor G after last year's festivities - drunk from all the fun:


Allow me to indulge myself with the following shots of Halloweens of yesteryear:

G's first Halloween 2005 - that's her Darth Vader brother with her, doesn't she look terrified?


Drunk from the festivities again:

(recurring theme here? Let's hope she gets it out of her system before she's 13).

And here's my little Mighty Morphin Power Ranger the Halloween before his sister came along:



Gotta go get the rest of the decorations done and wrestle the candy away from the girl so there's some left for the trick-or-treaters.

Have a great Halloween!

Everyday's Halloween

Ba boom boom ba-be-bop-bop
Ba boom boom ba-be-bop-bop

I think I’ve finally shaken this thing called COLD. I find the harder ones are the low level buggers that stay with you for days on end, never really coming out full force, but leave you feeling deader than a doornail, especially at night.

I was itching to get to the gym because I’m in serious withdrawal. Did not go once all last week because I felt low level crapola. And then when I did feel sort of up to it on the weekend, Ian suggested I give myself a break and go when I was 100%. Twist my rubber arm he did.

So I gave myself a break and broke into this:
One of the world’s best most recent inventions. Scoops! And for the simplest, best salsa recipe I’ve had in ages: one part (store-bought for me) salsa; one part light sour cream; chop up some cilantro and presto – scoop! I love Anne Lindsay.

And then I had a little of this:
Can you believe that you can eat four of those strawberry delights and still not have consumed the caloric intake of one of these?:

And look what’s left of this:

I’m eating like everyday’s Halloween. And that’s not even until tomorrow.

I really should have been eating this:

Blech. Maybe I’ll just … GO. TO. GYM.

Mama Love ... miracles and meandering thoughts

I think my kids actually like me.

L had a fun playdate on Friday, to round out the awesome week of school. Awesome because for some reason he had absolutely NO homework all week - he actually told me that he had tons more in Grade 1. I just hope he doesn't get an avalanche this week - or that his Grandma doesn't get wind of it or we'll have truckload of workbooks delivered to our door.

I've got a daily tug of war with my older child over the computer. We're trying to limit his computer time, and I'm endeavouring to set a good example by not staying glued here all day blogging. At least when he's around. Over the summer he discovered this online game that he could play with his buddies. It's quite a neat adventure game set in medieval times; he's learning about the free market, trading pelts, cowhides, looking for treasure and scrolls, dealing with coins. Not killing anyone, as far as I know. He's managed to get up to level 4 gazillion, thereabouts.

Well, during his playdate he logged on to show his buddy how far he'd advanced, and they hung around it for a few minutes before scampering off. After his friend left, he got back on as the time that I'm preparing dinner is his Runescape time. However, major disaster hit ... he could not get onto his account.

"Oh NOOOOOOOO!!!!! Mommy I've been HACKED!!!!!!"

He had tried about five times (too many, I think) and was subsequently locked out. Were the Caps locked? Did he hit the right keys? Let's try to set a new password. Not working...

"Waaaaaahhhhhh!!!" He was on the ground, bawling his eyes out, thrashing and lamenting that he'd given out his password and that he'd never, ever reach those heights again. It was the end of the world.

Seriously addicted, perhaps?

After calming him down, I took him out of the office and brought him to his Dad. I could still hear the sobbing, and Ian consoling him, telling him that these things happen all the time to him on his computer, and that Mom would make it right. Just give her the space. No pressure, right? Me, techie-challenged Mom of two who deals with all computer crises by shutting the whole system down. All of a sudden appointed IT department of the household.

I made my way around the site, and submitted a request to make things right. And miracle of miracles, I called L back in about half an hour later and he was able to reset a new password. A sacred new password.

Smiles, and then huge hoot with victory arms swung up in the air. "Mom, you're awesome. You're the saviour of the world!"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

G is going through a "band-aid" phase. If she has a minor spill, trips on something, has something wipe at her face accidently, she must have a band-aid stuck to the "injured" area. We've indulged her this little idiosyncracy, as the placebo effect is tremendous. Tears disappear as soon as the package appears. Therefore I keep those super sticky, tough-adhesive thick ones well hidden from her father, as the last time she had a nothing scratch on her forehead, he pasted two of them right across her eyebrows. Ouch!!! They didn't come off for over a month.

On Friday, as she was re-adjusting the Halloween stickers on the door to show to her brother's friend, she tripped on the doorway as she made her way inside. Major calamity, requiring two band-aids, one for each knee. She pulled her pants up, had me stick them on the knee caps (no marks, scratches were evident, there was a little red, but nothing had happened). The pant legs stayed up all night, she walked around the house holding them up even though I had folded them for her.

The whole weekend she pointed out her injured knees to anyone who looked remotely interested. Fast forward to last night. As she got on the potty before bed, the band-aids came off with her pull-ups. I thought she was going to have a major fit. But no, she looked at her knees, saw nothing was there, and then looked up at me with her face beaming. "Mommy, it's all better! You made it better! Yay!!!" and danced around the washroom half naked.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Mommy, I like your little nose", said G to me last night at dinner.

She then pointed to her nose and said "I like my little nose too. I have little holes. They are little circles. (I mentioned to her that the holes were called nostrils). I like my little ears. Can I see your ears Mommy? They're little ears like me!"

Ian had to get in on the conversation. Danger, danger .... remember, mommy has an Asian nose; Daddy has a somewhat more European nose ....why are you going there?

Ian: "How about Daddy's nose? Is it big or small?"

G: "It's BIG".

Ian: "Is it nice or gross?"

G: "It's GROSS".

Ian: "And what do Daddy's nostrils look like?""

G: "They look like DIAMONDS!"

Me: "How about Mommy? What do mommy's nostrils look like?"

G: "They look like HEARTS!"

Me: "Let me get this straight. Mommy's nose is little with hearts. And Daddy's nostrils are BIG, GROSS DIAMONDS?"

G: "YEAH!" with a huge hearty laugh.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gee, did I mention that I love my kids?

I just hope they don't figure out that I don't really know what I'm doing ;)

Eight things - la deuxieme fois ... and an award!

I’m having such a good time meeting new friends recently on the blogosphere. So although I did this meme a little while ago, I recently was tagged at “Airing Dirty Laundry” and will oblige with another eight totally trivial random things about myself:

1/ When I was in my 20s I dressed like I was in my 40s (Katie Holmes of my day, perhaps). Now that I’m in my 40s, I dress like I’m in my 20s.

2/ I have my Grade 10 Royal Conservatory of Music Certificate in piano and used to teach while I was in high school and university. It was quite lucrative and helped to pay my clothing and entertainment bills. I’m so rusty now, I haven’t played in about 20 years, so I can barely show Liam where middle C is on the keyboard.

3/ I also played clarinet, alto clarinet actually, in high school. Apparently one year I was the best high school alto clarinet player in all of Scarborough, Ontario, at least according to a teacher at Music camp. Too bad I attended before the Bare Naked Ladies met up there, or I could have re-written musical history.

I did better at the alto because I had a tight embouchure. Let’s leave it at that.

3/ I have a very understanding mate. I woke up the other morning and said to him “I dreamt that I was back in university and that my boyfriend was Bill Rancic (you know, the first winner of Donald Trump’s reality series “The Apprentice”). Ian said to me “Hey, that’s pretty good!”.

I know, it was just a weird dream and it’s not like it was hot Brad Pitt or anything, but still, I thought that was an interesting response.

4/ I have a minor degree in French. I used to be almost bilingual. On my first trip to Paris I had so much fun getting around the city, being able to converse and actually be understood.

But don’t ask me to speak now, as although it is better than my Chinese, it’s pretty shaky. L is finding it neat though, that I can help him now that he’s started French lessons three times a week at school.

5/ I thought I wanted to be a deejay when I was young. But that was before I realized that I’d actually have to be creative on the fly and speak. I have a pipsqueaky voice, so the broadcast world was spared.

6/ My husband is very sentimental when it comes to gifts for me. One of the first things he ever gave me was a pin with a picture of Robert Smith from the Cure on it. Yes, he PINNED me! And alas, that’s how long we’ve been together!

He’s given me jewelry to celebrate the birth of each of our kids. For L, I have a beautiful silver ring with a garnet and 6 diamonds (one for each year of marriage at the time he was born), engraved with our boy's name and his birthdate. For G, I received a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings.

7/ I have a real fear of vomiting (emetophobia). I thought I was the only one, but I didn't feel so weird after I saw a post on “Thinking about”. I remember being about seven years old and having a very bad bout of stomach flu. After which I decided I would never, ever throw up again in my life.

And true to my word, I never did, that is until 10 years ago. While I was at a New Year’s party I was bragging to my friend’s boyfriend about the fact that I hadn’t thrown up since I was seven, and then I suddenly had to excuse myself to go upstairs and yack, because, yes, I had had more than a few too many. But I was at least polite about it – I waited until the hostess came out from her worship of the porcelain goddess before I took my turn.

Yes, I know, TMI.

8/ I can type really fast. I once represented my high school in a regional typing contest. Liam’s career goal last year was to be the fastest typist in the world, like his Mom. I hope he aims a bit higher this year.

I think this one’s been around for a while in various forms, so if you want to play, just go for it. And let me know in the comments, because my inquiring mind wants to know!

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

I got an award! A really sweet, thoughtful award, from my friend Kellan over at “On the Upside”. She’s one of my newer blog friends, but has become a daily addiction.

I wish I could pass this along to all my blog friends, as each is so deserving, but I think for this I’ll narrow it down to some of my very first regular commenters, Keep on Truckin', C at Random Musings from the Island, Thoughts and Stuff, Curiosity Killer, Fancy Pantsy, Pinks and Blues, Beachmama and Cherry Extract. All these ladies truly inspired me (and continue to do so) to keep up with this unique and fun activity, hobby, obsession, whatever ... known as blogging.

Shyness

Shyness is nice, and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
You'd like to...

(The Smiths)

Continuing along the vein of October shopping month, we headed over to Caynes earlier this week to buy the dish drainer and tray, some floor mats, oven mitts – no bags or shoes were in the inventory this time, I was being a very good girl.

And then I wasn’t such a good girl as we headed over to the Golden Star restaurant for their famous 6 oz charbroiled burger for me; and a double decker grilled cheese sandwich for my girlie. As I went up to order, I asked if she wanted a hot dog or a cheese sandwich (such healthy fare for a 2 year old); and she replied she wanted Winnie or Minnie. Two items not on the menu, but in the Disney coin machines at her eye level. Not wanting to risk a scene, we popped in a toonie and out came a miniature dalmation encased in a plastic display case. Dimensions of the cube were about 1” square all around. Boy, $2 can really buy you a lot these days. She was beyond ecstatic, and I figured the novelty would at least last through the meal.

We settled into one of the booths which gave us the picturesque panorama of busy Yonge Street and car dealerships. But no matter, it was a sunny day, I had my burger, the girl had her plastic toy and gooey cheese sandwich. A perfect date.

That had to be spoiled by the group of about 6 teenage boys that came and sat behind me and to our side. Just sat, enjoying their burgers, not being loud, obnoxious, or anything out of the ordinary. G took one look, and with knitted brows, pointed at the group and said loudly,

“Mommy, I don’t like them. Tell them to move!”.

Remember, she is the Queen of the Nile and I am but her humble servant. Well, I wasn’t about to ask those huge boys (average size about 200lb each) to move anywhere. Thank goodness I could distract her with her little doggie again.

I can’t remember being so loudspoken as a child; or ever for that matter. Well, maybe that one time during rush hour on my commute home from university when I screamed at everyone to shove themselves into the subway train, (but hey, that’s another post). This little one has no reservations; part of it’s likely her age but I suspect most of it is just her personality. She pretends to be shy a lot of the time. But the reality is that she’s not. Nor is her big brother. Which I am so grateful for.

When I was young, I was so timid I wouldn’t even raise my hand or emit a peep when my name was called for school attendance. I would cry if kids wanted me to say “Sorry” when we were playing that old board game (why say sorry when you haven’t done anything wrong? It wasn’t part of the rules. Sobbing seemed an appropriate alternative.) I would cry if the teacher raised her voice a little in class, for fear that I had done something wrong.

Even to this day, I’m often hesitant to approach strangers for the simplest things, such as directions, location of washrooms etc. L will sigh in exasperation and say “Mom, just ASK someone, will you?”. And then I snap out of it, and do what I need to do.

Most of my friends that I’ve met in adulthood wouldn’t say that shyness is a quality that struck them when they first met me, but it’s probably because I’ve spent a good part of my lifetime working at it.

And this is why I’m glad my kids aren’t afraid to speak their mind. Shyness is a heavy burden and potential life hindrance that they don’t need.

Now I just hope they don’t go all out with the attitude on the homefront, especially when they’re teenagers. But then I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

Flyer Friday

I've got this weird obsession with flyers - you know the annoying flyaway inserts that come the in the local newspaper once a week to advertise all the sales for the upcoming weekend and week? I live for them. Every Friday morning, I sit with my coffee while the little Girl catches up on her morning Treehouse TV, and flip through looking for specials at the grocery stores, Future Shop and Best Buy, Toys R Us, the department stores, Wal Mart, Home Depot, Crappy Tire etc ... although I do draw the line at the lighting and furniture inserts (hideous is too nice a word - sorry, I guess I'm being a design snob here). And especially Sears. Funny thing, though, I hardly ever shop at Sears anymore.

I think this habit started after I had Lboy. Sears has a great baby section, and I would take him there quite frequently when I was on maternity leave with him. He was such a great baby to shop with; never fussed, always smiling and laughing up at me. As a mother of a newborn, one of the hottest consumer segments, I was always open to shopping where there was a good bargain - burp pads, feeding supplies, sleepers, Tiny Love toys specials - Tiny Love never went on sale unless at Sears. At least back in those days. The Sears stores themselves were the first that I found to be baby-friendly as well, with well-lit nursing rooms and doors that could close if you needed the privacy.

I went back to work when L was 9 months old - back then we didn't yet have a one year maternity policy here in Canada. I managed to negotiate a four day work week. You can't imagine the difference that Friday off made! And for the next 4 years, Fridays were Mommy and L boy day. Occasionally we would get to Sears on that day, but more often than not, it would be for his programs or other fun things to do. Just the two of us.

When our little princess was born, it brought renewed interest in Sears (after all, a baby girl can't spend all her time wearing her older brother's distinctively blue wardrobe). And now that I'm home full time, I'm poring over the grocery specials, doing a happy dance if I can save a buck on a 16-roll package of Cashmere toilet paper. Such is my sad existence (your heart bleeds ...)

I can't let it go, even though the kids are fast becoming less baby, more hard-to-please children. So perhaps that explains my flyer tradition. As that stage of our lives slips away, it's my weekly flashback of my life with baby.

Subliminal Message?

"Mommy, you need to be a witch!"

We're in the full swing of preparing for the upcoming Halloween festivities. We've got four pumpkins (two additional as of this morning, as the two purchased by Dad a couple of weeks ago are starting to rot. My son, who thought that we should wait until four days before Halloween to buy them, did utter a little "I told you so" to me yesterday).

The door is fully decorated with stickers. I've been ordered to find some cobwebs to line the bushes in the front. As far as landscaping, I think I'll just let the mums continue to die and rot in the spirit of this upcoming event.

Costume-wise, we're also quite ready this year. I still can't believe I actually bought the costumes so far ahead of time. It may have even been in September!

The girlie wanted to be a princess, and upon purchasing the pink velvety number lined with golden ribbon and a matching cone-hat (honestly, if the equivalent were made for a woman, it would be beyond tacky!) - she wanted to put it on. Right away. Once we were in the minivan, she stripped off her T-shirt and had me pulling the itchy pink dress over her head. I had warned her that the outfit might be itchy, but there's no telling a 2 year old what to do. So with the full concoction on, I buckled her into her carseat, and then we went grocery shopping for dinner items.

Surprisingly, despite her pink cuteness, we didn't get many looks in the supermarket, or any comments either for that matter. I guess people are used to seeing little tykes in all sorts of outfits these days. That is, of course, until she started screaming "Itchy, mommy itchy, ITCHYYYYYYYY!!!!!" about half way through my shopping list. I didn't have a change of clothes with me as her T-shirt had been tossed to the back in her haste to get the costume on. So I had to take the gown off, and use it as a blanket of sorts, so she wouldn't be topless in the store. She actually preferred wearing it that way. I think I also said "I told you so" at the time (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree does it?) but the logic of that fell upon deaf ears.

Well, I haven't been able to get her into the dress again since. I do, however, have a backup plan, in the form of a fuzzy Winnie the Pooh outfit, complete with the head/hat of Winnie. Actually, it's a weird costume. It sort of looks as if Winnie's been decapitated and is sitting on top of my kid's head. At least that's what it looked like 4 years ago when L wore it, quite happily, despite looking so "Grand-Poo-Bah - ish". I'm still hopeful G will get back into the dress.

L talked me into getting him a "Scream" ghost costume. Now, he hasn't seen the movie. But let's just file this purchase under the "What was I thinking" category. The big brother doth love to chase the little princess around the house in it, scaring the living daylights out of not only her, but his easily freaked out mother at the same time. He's also added a toy Ninja sword to the ensemble, to increase the deadly factor.

Now that we also have CANDY in the house, we've started to map out the plan for evening of October 31. Mommy will stay at home, and give out the candy. Daddy will take the kids out as per usual. This year, however, we have been ordered by the little one to dress up in full Halloween gear. Everyone. That's right, Mommy must be a witch, Daddy is going to be a crocodile. I wonder what zodiac compatability calendar she's been reading to hook us up as that couple?

I asked whether I could be a princess too, but no, that honour is to be bestowed on herself, and on Pam, one of her brother's best friends' moms. And that makes sense, because Pam is such a pretty, sweet mom. And G's mom, well maybe she's just a little more evil, nasty and green.

My mother used to love the fact that all of my little friends were so afraid of her when we were young. She felt that a healthy dose of fear was good - to keep the kids in line. Truth be told, her bark has always been a lot worse than her bite - I think it was just the pure volume of her voice that was enough in itself.

With me, well the volume isn't so much there. But I guess according to my daughter, the scary factor that I inherited is proof that the apple didn't fall too far from the tree in my own case either!

PS- this is of course, in no way to imply that my mother is a witch in any sense of the word. Far from it in fact. My mom's wonderful. She can be, however, quite loud.

Ahhh ... dropped the ball already!

This NaBloPoMo thing is quite the challenge - yikes - in my trial run I already missed a day. Too busy gathering material; forgot to actually POST! Thank goodness we're not in November yet.

The last couple of days have been fairly uneventful, likely because of the weird weather coupled with the fact that I'm fighting the cold that vector L brought home and spread to his little sister. Who is happily going through every box of tissue in the house with gusto - each sniffle needs a new tissue from a different room, don't ya know?

I'm still trying to get into the new rhythm of preschool mornings, without much help from the little girl. I thought about keeping her home yesterday because her nose was a little runny, but she was in great spirits, running around, no fever and I want to stick to the routine. Lately the dropoffs have been very difficult.

When I brought her in yesterday, (granted she wasn't feeling totally herself and her favourite teacher Cheryl wasn't in yet) she just clung onto the back of my jeans and wouldn't accept anything I gave her to play. Do you want to see the dolls and their cute outfits? Look at the cute purses (a great collection for a nursery); look at the cash register! Yes, everything points back to shopping October. But no, nothing would get her to let go of me.

At my wits end, I got down on my knee, turned to face her and said "Mommy has to go and get you some medicine, and then I'll come back and pick you up, all right?"

And with that, she stepped back from me and turned toward her teacher, "OK."

I know her parents work in the pharma industry, but that was ridiculous. Whatever works though. This advisory about pediatric over-the-counter medicines notwithstanding, even the mere mention of having them around the house will at least provide some Giselle mood control. And you know what, we dose the stuff accordingly, and few times that we do end up using the drops, they actually do work, at least in my kids.

It's actually pretty ironic, both Ian and I don't like to take much for whenever we're sick either, and we keep a bare minimum in our apothecary. Which now resides in the nook above the wine/mail slots in our kitchen. Hey, that's good, alcohol and drugs all in one spot. At least it's not within reaching distance of the kids. But I digress.

So this post is all over the place. Let's end it with the following:

Can you tell kids live here?

Latest addition to our music library.

Nothing like sharing evidence of your mid-life crisis to the kid who works at the local neighbourhood music store.

Over and out.

Sensational Sunday

While I'll admit I'm not totally immune to the whole reality TV realm (I follow the occasional Bachelor, Canadian Idol, and was glued to the tube during both Rock Star series in previous summers and the recent "Do you Think you can Dance"), I'm not completely fanatical about them. Okay, that was just a LOT of reality TV that I watch. But, I've never watched an episode of Survivor or Big Brother; caught a few of Amazing Race, but not enough to be hooked.

The most recent offering from CBC, created by Garth Drabinsky, quite the heavyweight in the entertainment industry, had me intrigued. And then totally captivated after I saw the first episode three short weeks ago. Triple Sensation, which only aired in the month of October, is making me hope this is the first of many.

Basically what they did was audition kids from across Canada, looking for someone who could sing, dance AND act, with the final prize being a $150,000 scholarship toward any school of their choice. They narrowed it down to twelve contestants, then took these kids through a series of master classes, with top tier professional actors, choreographers, singers, brought in to teach them. During the course of the program which ran for six days a week for about four weeks, I think, they narrowed it down further to a final six. The final six performed at a live concert, which was adjudicated by the "marquee" panel, and the winner (and two runners-up) was announced in last night's episode. The judging marquee panel consisted of a Alan Noble (director), Sergio Trujillo (choreographer), Cynthia Dale (actor), Marvin Hamlisch (composer) and Drabinsky himself.

What I enjoyed most about the show was not only the art itself - the kids were so talented, all of them - but the way that the judges provided positive, constructive criticism. They were almost nurturing, in that they would try to pull the best performance out of every contestant, even during the auditions themselves. The exercise was proving not only to find the talent, but to find the individuals who could be even further trained, to grow and really have a hope of making it in the theatre world. It appeared to me that the process itself, particularly the master classes, was something beyond most of these kids wildest dreams.

Some finalists were as young as 16; the oldest chosen was 24. I could not get over the talent and passion that these young individuals had for performance. It was so obviously in their blood, a calling. I think back to when I was 16 and the things that were priority for me at the time. I recall a lot of it was boys, boys, girlfriends and well, boys (much to the chagrin of my very protective parents). Well, there was piano practice too, but that was a pain. I think I even had a group of my friends come by for a "driveby pickup" when I was supposed to be practicing for a big exam. My parents were out and I was home much earlier than they were (party mah jong people they continue to be to this day)... so they were none the wiser.

To know at such a young age that this is their dream, and what they want to do for the rest of their lives. The focus and the drive. It gives me hope for young people of today. Which is a nice change from all the negative media that they get nowadays. I hope that they all make it to the big time.

This was TV I could watch with my whole family. Ian, Mr. "Sorry, even-Queen-won't get-me-to-musical-theatre", enjoyed it just as immensely, as did Liam. Liam couldn't really stomach the kissing workshops ("Ewwww!") but he did like the fight practice. And little G just puttered away at her toy kitchen, happy to be with us.

And on that note, here is my triple sensation, part of my adolescent dream come true -- in the form of my Hallmark Sunday moment:

A gorgeous summery-fall day...

so why am I doing this more-than-mammoth "Everyone's Weird' meme?

Because I so love my friends and I was tagged by my pal C; and it's Sunday, brainless Sunday, so I needed something easy.

This is indeed mammoth and then some, so perhaps you'd like to grab a carafe of coffee before you enjoy the following long-winded blast of weirdness known as me:

1. What kind of SOAP is in your bathtub right now? Some kind of apricot thing from the Body shop.

2. Do you have any watermelon in your refrigerator? No. My mom hasn’t been by in the last week, so no watermelons. That’s the only time we ever have any – I always tell her not to bring anything when they come for dinner. And she always brings a watermelon.

3. What would you change about your living room? Finally pick low, modern entertainment unit to house hubby’s stereo, speakers and the gazillion CD’s we have.

4. Are the dishes in your dishwasher clean or dirty? They are clean.

5. What is in your fridge? About 6 bags of milk, 3 boxes of strawberries (on sale at Loblaws today), 2 cucumbers, coffee mate, huge jar of Vlasic pickles, blue cheese, cheddar cheese, cream cheese, feta cheese, leftover steak, 3 oranges, bag oF organic carrots. Oh, and about 3 bottles of Pomtini that I’ve been hoarding for my alone time [chuckle].

6. White or wheat bread? Flax or 12 grain – does that count?

7. What is on top of your refrigerator? Actually on TOP of my fridge – nothing. Above my fridge – a cupboard with a platter organizer. Can’t believe how excited I was about that feature.

8. What color or design is on your shower curtain? Well, I don’t have a shower curtain, it’s a door with a really dated fading horizontal stripe design on it. Our bathroom is the next stop for the renovation train. My kids’ shower curtain is from Ikea, with weird unidentifiable animals and birds in various primary colours on it. Not the best tool for teaching your toddler about wild kingdom.

9. How many plants are in your home? Dead or alive? Alive, probably one, a cactus. The other two are barely hanging on, and are actually in the laundry room ready to be tossed with our garden waste. I’m horrible with plants.

10. Is your bed made right now? Believe it or not, it is!

11. Comet or Soft Scrub? Neither.

12. Is your closet organized? Sort of. I like Ikea’s boxes, and I just sorted through the summer/fall/winter stuff. But why is my closet even more cluttered now? I am a major packrat, and I collect shoes, shoes, more shoes; hats and bags.

13. Can you describe your flashlight? Well, I used to have a small red metallic Maglite, which Ian bought me to match his small blue metallic one (awwwww – that was when we were first married). They have since been dismembered, disemboweled and are now scattered throughout the house. Courtesy of two curious kids. Now we’ve got a couple of $0.99 Ikea ones, that the girl likes to take apart.

14. Do you drink out of glass or plastic most of the time at home? Glass.

15. Do you have iced tea made in a pitcher right now? No.

16. If you have a garage, is it cluttered? Does this answer your question?

17. Curtains or blinds? Both, but we need new blinds for the family room. Badly.

18. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two. One for my head. The other to support the extra jowls that are threatening as I advance further into my 40s.

19. Do you sleep with any lights on at night? We keep one of the under cabinet lights on in the kitchen downstairs, and the girlie’s night light. She comes into our room every night, so I want to be sure she can see.

20. How often do you vacuum? Much less than needed. About once a week. I sweep a lot though.

21. Standard toothbrush or electric? Standard, although I do own an electric.

22. What color is your toothbrush? White and purple I think?

23. Do you have a welcome mat on your front porch? Yes, I thought it was quite funky and spent a ridiculous amount on it. Wanna see it:
Yeah, as Ian said when I brought it home, it is a little "orange".

24. What is in your oven right now? Nothing. Except dried up sticky pineapple rib sauce that can only be removed during a self-cleaning cycle. Which I’m afraid to attempt. With all new kitchen appliances, the owner’s manual pile is about two feet thick – hurts me to look at it.

25. Is there anything under your bed? A shower radio in the shape of a dog. Never opened. Never intend to open it. Was a gift from one of my parents’ friends to Liam when he was about one. We’re still wondering why.

26. Chore you hate doing the most? Picking toys up after the kids. It is neverending.

27. What retro items are in your home? We have some cool ashtrays left over from the 60’s from my parents (Dad used to smoke). We just use them to decorate, or as candy trays. I also have an old suede jacket and one of my dad’s old leather coats that I love. And then tons of retro CD’s and LPs.

28. Do you have a separate room that you use as an office? Yes.

29. How many mirrors are in your home? 7

30. Do you have any hidden emergency money around your home? I’ve separated our loose change into several zip lock bags that sit in our side table drawers. With our dollar above par to the US, may come in handy.

31. What color are your walls? Most of main and upper floor – taupe/gray; kitchen – brownish/taupe; our office – deep cranberry. Boy’s room blue; girl’s room yellow.

32. Do you keep any kind of protection weapons in your home? Scary question. No.

33. What does your home smell like right now? Neutral, which is a good thing.

34. Favorite candle scent? Vanilla

35. What kind of pickles (if any) are in your refrigerator right now? Vlasic, garlic dill.

36. What color is your favorite Bible? I have a small red one.

37. Ever been on your roof? No!

38. Do you own a stereo? Yes.

39. How many TVs do you have? Three.

40. How many house phones? Four.

41. Do you have a housekeeper? Well, we do have a cleaning lady who comes in every 2 weeks.

42. What style do you decorate in? Let’s see, I think the term is “Trad-emporary”. Or is it “Transitional” Whatever! We lean toward contemporary lines, with some older pieces thrown in the mix.

43. Do you like solid colors in furniture or prints? Solids for sure.

44. Is there a smoke detector in your home. Yes, one per floor.

45. In case of fire, what are the items in your house which you’d grab if you only could make one quick trip? Husband and Kids, if they’re considered items. If we’re talking inanimate objects, my glasses, watch and sentimental jewellry (creature of habit),important docs (passports etc) purse, family photos … what’s the definition of “quick”?

OOPS, forgot to tag someone. If you want to do this meme, TAG, you're IT!

Let's hit rewind

G has always been a tough nut to crack. From the time she was born, she has never been as affectionate as her big brother.

As a baby, L was a roly poly Buddha who loved to be held, cuddled, tickled and kissed. By everyone pretty much, but he’s always been especially snuggly with his parents and grandparents. Even to this day, if Grandma or Grandpa walk into the room, he’ll go over and give them a quick hug and peck on the cheek. And if Ian or I happen to steal a hug or kiss when we're picking him up from a friend's after a playdate, he doesn't really mind. He will even still sit on my knee occasionally when we're reading, all 60 pounds of him, just so he can be close and snuggle.

Not so the little one. I never thought I would ever use this word to describe a baby, but “stoic” seemed appropriate, even as a newborn. Unlike her little cousins, who've been cooing and smiling away at their parents since they were about two months old, I don't think G cracked her first smile until she was over the age of 4 months. She used to cry whenever she saw my parents; she's still not particularly warm to them unless we prime her; once she warms up to them (takes about 20 minutes or so) she loosens up, chats away, but will rarely allow a hug. A squirmy wormy she is. We don't know what it is. Sometimes when I sneak a kiss, she wipes it away with her hand and races away from me as if she's been kissed by the devil. Her own mother.

At bedtime, which is Daddy time for both kids, she'll sit through a couple of bedtime stories, tolerate her daddy's kiss as he tucks her in, and then whisper in her tiny voice "Daddy, go away."

We've just been so used to that from her. She will get cuddly when she's tired, or if she's hurt. During those occasions she'll take all the TLC she can get. And she also seems to have a soft spot for her big brother. He must have a magical touch with her, as she has a reserve of spontaneous hugs for him and him alone.

G CAN be affectionate. She's fiercely independent and so proud of what she can do on her own. Like everything else with her, it just has to be on her terms. She needs her space and she'll be very clear about if and when you can invade it. Her father and I just keep up with our attempts as per usual, with both the kids. We're not an exceptionally touchy-feely family, but we think it's important for them to know that such displays of affection are more than welcome in this household. Ian's a bit better at that than me, but then I am a Snake Mother.

So I could hardly believe it the other day, while we were getting ready for play school, when she decided to practice kisses on my cheek. She planted five sweet puckers on me, all in a row, just after I caught her from our daily wardrobe change/chase. Her little pixie face all flushed and smiling, I couldn't resist kissing her back as I pulled her up close to me.

She grabbed my face with her little hands, stared at me with her sparkling eyes and declared the following:

"I love your kisses, Mommy."

What a precious, magical mommy moment that was. I almost wept, but didn't, as I didn't want to have to explain why mommy was crying. Didn't want to confuse the girl. If only I could have captured that moment in time somehow, to experience being awash with love from the top of my head to the tingles in my toes in that nanosecond, and replay it over and over again.

I'm sure I'll have more of those "wow" times with my little girl as she grows, continues to amaze me and comes even more into her own. I just hope they won't be so few and far between.

A good day to visit the Art Gallery

Well, the weather is bleh today. It would have been a perfect day to visit the Art Gallery of Ontario. Except that it is closed for renovation.

As was ours over the summer. We used to tape all the kids' art onto the cabinets we had along the kitchen wall. It was a great place to put all the projects as they came home. We didn't like the starkness of the very plain, white cabinetry, so the flashes of colour that we posted added some life to the room. But also some clutter.

In our new kitchen, there is really only one part of the island that little G uses to tape up her artwork. L hasn't brought any major masterpieces home as yet, but I am impressed with his drawing that accompanies his little news items in his homework booklets.

I don't yet know where to display these more recent creations, but I can at least post them here for now. And also to help distract Her Bad Mother from the miseries of morning sickness; after all, kids' art must certainly be good for the nauseous soul.
"Mommy's Cake" by little G. No, her mommy isn't the best baker.


"Three-eyed Goose Flies South to Vegas" by little G.



"Dad's My Hero" by L-ster.


"My Buddy's at Wonderland" by L-ster.

Freezing Hope

I usually don't post about many controversial topics. Mostly because I'm a Libra - always see two sides of every story. So I manage to talk myself out of anything too controversial. And most of my more "serious" posts don't get a lot of commentary - or maybe people are lurking and don't want to come out.

But when I opened up my regular woman's magazine that arrived in my mail yesterday (with lovely Sandra Oh on the cover, let's hear it for Asian Canadian women!), I had to stop to read this article in depth, "Great eggs-pectations" written by Katrina Onstad. In it, she refers to a medical first, that happened in Canada just this past spring. A mother, Melanie Boivin, had frozen her eggs for her 7 year-old daughter, who suffers from a rare genetic disease called Turner's syndrome which leaves her daughter infertile. By doing so, she is attempting to provide her daughter an option, possibly the only one, for biological motherhood. This latest event is causing even more stir in the hotpot of the assisted reproduction debate.

I really like the way Katrina writes - she presented a fairly balanced view of the issue, and she admits that although she is in favour of reproduction technology the extent of this makes her uncomfortable. But then she also raises the fact that she has never experienced infertility first hand. She is, to those of us who have experienced it, a "fertile". And I don't mean that condescendingly at all; it's just a fact.

The thing that really enraged me was the backlash that Boivin's actions have produced on certain message boards. Child-free message boards. I know that women who have decided they don't want children of their own are certainly entitled to their opinions. And they've probably got the weight of society on their backs, having to defend their decisions, as most people expect women to want children above all else. But I can't believe that someone actually posted that they thought this act would suggest to Boivin's daughter that she is not good enough the way she is. How can that be extrapolated from what I see as an act of pure love?

I must admit, I am biased. Having spent years dealing with unexplained infertility (and you'd be surprised the percentage of cases that are "unexplained"), I understand the heartache, the absolute anguish that women and couples go through in their unsuccessful attempts at parenthood. Aside from the treatments themselves, which are no picnic, there is the even tougher psychological roller coaster of hesitant expectation, dashed hopes and unbelievable frustration that seems neverending as you go from month to month, cycle to cycle, hoping against hope that "IT" will happen.

When you really think about it, there are of course ethical issues. Should her daughter decide to go ahead and have a child with these eggs, they will technically be her half-sibling. Her mother will become grandmother to her own child. Very weird. But this is at the purely biological level. In these circumstances you have to see that the mother would be the one raising and teaching that child. As long as everyone goes into it with open eyes, and above all, the appropriate counselling (including for the child as he/she grows up), there's nothing to say that it shouldn't work- it wouldn't be easy, but then anything worth it rarely is.

Ms. Boivin's daughter may very well think it is too out-there for her. She may decide to adopt; or go with an anonymous donor. Or not have any children at all. But at least she'll have options. Because her mother provided this for her.

We were lucky to be blessed with two beautiful children as a result of advances in reproductive technology. But we also had hope. And you cannot fault Ms. Boivin for keeping that alive for her daughter. Without hope, what do we have?

Snapshots of a girlie date

G and her best friend A are having a very girlie playdate today. Kindred spirits these two are, since the day they met just over a year ago. My sister thinks it's so funny that little G has a best friend already - it is rather darling.

I brought the girls home after their play program this morning, as A's mom Bec had an appointment. They were so excited, to be together in one car for a change, side-by-side in my cluttered family room on wheels. They giggled the whole way.

Who's on First:
A: "Karen, what's your name?"
Me: "It's Karen, silly ..."
A: "G **, your mommy's name is Karen. My mommy's name is Mommy."
G: "No, your mommy's name is Becca. My mommy is Mommy."
A: "G , what's your name ..."

The Reluctant Houseguest
G: "A, do you want to come to my house?"
A: "No."
G: "But A, you love my house."
A: "Okay."

Someone watches too many Backyardigans reruns
We get home and the girls take off their shoes and socks right away. G brings her best friend to her bedroom and comes down with a hairclip. After she makes me clip it to her hair, she takes a big bow and says "I'm Queen of the Nile". The girls run off again laughing.



Sugar and spice and everything nice.

The day he refused Disney

I took the girlie shopping yesterday (I think that's my new thing - let's make October shopping month). We spent about an hour in Zara, where I was doing my darnedest to find something for myself that was age-appropriate. I still tend to gravitate toward their teeny-bopper department, but honestly, it really seems like I'm trying too hard.

So I stuck more to the other sections, keeping little G amused with my ziplock bag of coupons. She kept reminding me that we had to go to the Disney store; and somehow also fished out a page of expired McDonalds coupons. She declared that "It's 'portant Mommy that we go to McDonalds first, then Disney!" A couple of women heard that and thought it was quite adorable. G promptly hid behind me and shouted "I don't want anybody to look at me". Oh, to be the mother of a Diva.

Don't ask me why I carry around a ziplock bag of coupons. Mostly expired ones. I suppose it's my current contribution to the family's bottom line. A buck or two savings on diapers never hurt anyone. I'm so hoping the potty training will be over soon.

Back to Zara. I'm really appreciative that this season appears to be the season of the tunic. The flowing, empire-waist blouse over skinny jeans or leggings - that look is everywhere. It spells comfy to me. And although I said I would never do it again, I did succumb to getting some leggings earlier this year. Now I need something to wear them with. I pulled several brown, grey and boring black tops onto the stroller (my shopping cart) and found a couple of pairs of jeans to try on as well. I especially liked a couple of "Limited Edition" tops that hugged on top and left plenty of room below the chest. I liked them so much that I didn't even notice the tags stating "Limited Edition - Maternity Wear"! Eeeeeck! I loved being pregnant when I was pregnant, but we are not going there again, no matter how cute the clothes. Disappointingly, after more than an hour in the store, I bought nothing.

Off to Disney. A sale, a sale, and additional 40% off sale! Bonus! Because everything was cheap, cheap, cheap (well, for Disney anyway) I bought the little girlie a fairy doll, a pair of pyjamas for $4.97, and a fantastic Power Rangers playset for the boy. The kind of playset he used to throw fits for (and he's a laidback kid) whenever we popped into Disney. I was so happy - I went shopping for presents for me, but the kids ended up with toys. G lectured me on that later - she says we still need to get mommy a toy, because it isn't a birthday without a cake and a toy. But she was content with her loot.

We picked L up for his first tennis lesson EVAH! I couldn't believe it, but he was quite excited to go; until we got into the parking lot and he announced "I don't like tennis!" I think he just does that to get me going, because during the lesson he was all bright-eyed, and flushed with laughter as he whacked at the ball and went scurrying after them whenever their coach finished the baskets (smart coach).

On the way home, I told him I had bought him that wonderful Power Ranger set. He thanked me for it, seemed to like it. But then all evening he didn't go near it, and showed no moves to open it.

This morning during breakfast, I asked him if he wanted the set, or if I should return it. He told me it might be better to return it to get my $7 back. To go toward my birthday present.

Disney's Power Rangers no longer make the cut. My little man's growing up.

Cosmo for lunch, gelato for dessert

Ma famille took me to Moxie's for a late birthday lunch (we were very slow moving yesterday morning, after the night out. Not that we had a lot to drink, we were just slow. I had an excuse because I'm now officially one year older, and feeling it.)

We first tried Moxie's when we were out in Vancouver. We now have one not very far from us in the midst of the commercial core of the burbs up here. So things are looking up. I had dinner with some former work friends there a few weeks ago and was impressed enough to think about it again for the birthday.

It's got a beautiful interior, feels intimate, with most of the tables being booths. The round booths are the best. They have a great drink menu and a kids' menu.
I indulged with a Cosmopolitan. Can't go wrong with a cosmo. The restaurant wasn't too busy, so we let the kids watch their Sponge Bob DVD on the portable DVD player. The replacement player. More on that later. We usually don't let the kids watch in restaurants, but to be honest, it was sort of nice to have a conversation with just the husband, and not worry about the two rugrats arguing or poking at each other.

After lunch, we headed over to Kleinburg as we haven't been in quite a long time. We used to go there a lot when we were dating, and we've only taken the kids there a couple of times. It's another quaint little town, not as busy as Unionville, but a nice place to visit, especially if you're taking in the McMichael Art Gallery. We didn't have time for that yesterday, but we did stop into the Kleinburg Book Company, which sadly is being sold. I always loved that little book store, it's in an 1800's log cabin, with a delightful children's book section on the upper floor. Here we are in front of the store (sorry for the annoying close-up - it's in the genes - faces are most important for pictures, even if you can't tell what landmark the subject is in front of):

BOO!

It looks like the main street is undergoing a changeover from the last time we were there. Many businesses and/or buildings were for sale. The little restaurant/tea shop with the lovely backyard that served as the open air patio, will now be inhabited by a food shop. The big surprise was the ice-cream and sandwich shop that we used to frequent as well. I just remember it being very cluttered and cramped. It's now a full service restaurant.

The new owners have totally renovated it so it is quite minimalistic in decor, with a pizza oven, but it was the gelato section that drew us in...

The concentration...

After two mouthfuls he decided it was Hazelnut and not chocolate, so he didn't want it anymore. Happy birthday to me as I gobbled up the rest.

We were taking photos of the kids when a lady walked by with the cutest little dog. I think it was a Shee-Poo. After we admired her dog a bit, she offered to take a family photo of us. So sweet. I'm allowed to post this one, it's been scrutinized by the Man himself. It looks like a ghost town, but a pretty one.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=

So the DVD player, yes. We were using a lovely LG model which replaced G's first pink machine.

After we got home yesterday, we were searching high and low for the black machine(L's) and it could not be found. I knew Ian must have had something to do with it. The last sighting was on Saturday, at the car dealership. I asked if he was sure that he had brought it back - he was positive he had packed it in little G's bag, and even said he had told L to make sure he brought it home (because if he didn't, he'd hear about it yada yada...). I turned the house upside down one last time today, to no avail.

A phone call was made to the dealership. A black DVD player is sitting behind their counter with his name on it.

DVD Player Assasin. That LG player better watch its back. Ian's in the business of making them disappear.

I'm in Good Company

The 42 year old mommies club.

Happy Birthday to Me!!!

Practice, practice, practice

I joined NaBloPoMo - which means I've committed to posting every day of November. I originally thought it would be a great idea, lots of fun, doing something I love to do daily anyway. Until I started stressing about it - uh, how am I going to find something in this mostly sleep-addled brain, to write about EVERY DAY? Oh, I know I could probably just post a pic or two, here and there, drop a funny couple of one or two-liners, and I'm sure that's what I will do. I suspect I might hit a writing funk though- Murphy's law always applies to me. It will hit me on November 1.

So I've decided that the remainder of October will be my practice run. The whole "practice, practice, practice" mantra drummed into my head from a very young age (thanks Momma) seemed to work on my little boy. Remember that Family Box? I had him rehearse his presentation 14 times (he counted). And he did very well; all number 4's on a scale of 1 to 4 (although he did point out that he forgot to use the words "tradition" and "culture", so he thought he would get a 2!). Here's the lovely box:

The flags were a big hit. While he had a couple of extra cultures to cover with his varied background (no other Chinese-Scottish-German-Canadians in his class), it appears that he conveyed it with confidence. I'm so proud, verklempt, really.

********

What have we here? I am alone, with my coffee, having read most of the paper and thinking about the fact that I have to vacuum. But it's so QUIET!!! Both kids wanted to go with Dad this morning, who had to bring his car in for servicing. Ian wasn't thrilled. He can handle one, but the two of them? Alone, all by himself? I didn't have to see it in his eyes, he actually told me he can't handle it. A form of backhanded kudos to me, I suppose. But what's a guy to do when his little princess wants to go with Daddy, and then she wants her "Goh, Goh" (big brother) to come with them too? And there's no way Liam will go to childminding when I'm at the gym.

And I am going to the gym today, because I missed it yesterday to meet my bloggy friends, D, D, and C. And had coffee, delicious cranberry coffee cake and three timbits that were only half-eaten by little G (I am the human garberator). I had to pass on bodyjam (BJ) to meet some very important friends, a newborn, and not so newborn baby. It was a nice little visit, so amazing to finally meet C in person, the babies were adorable, and little G also had a very good time.

Funniest thing, turns out that I know C's aunt! She's a fellow BJ enthusiast - I see her at the gym most Fridays, and I used to see her on Wednesday mornings before G's program started. The world is a small place, really.

Back to the quiet. Let's just enjoy the silence. Vacuuming can wait.

********

On another totally unrelated note, we are going out tonight sans kids. We found a babysitter! This is a monumental night for us as a family. It will be the first time our kids will be watched by anyone other than the grandparents, uncles or aunts! What a concept!

Here, in our messy, dusty home.

Darn, now I really have to vacuum!

Okay this is a bit ridiculous...

I went shopping for windshield wipers, a dish drainer and a drain tray today.

I came home with this:

Cheap


Chic


Classic


So much more fun. Too bad I couldn't find all three C's in one.

What's a girl to do?

Winners. Unfortunately for my pocketbook, new arrivals everyday.

Please Vote for Me

It's provincial election day today, and in addition to choosing the candidate and their particular party for our local riding, there is a referendum about the voting system itself. I'm not a political animal by any means, but I do feel it is important to vote, as it is our democratic right and a right that much of the world does not have. And if I don't vote, if ever I have an issue with the way things are run, I can't really complain then can I? I haven't been following the election that closely, and the referendum did throw me for a loop.

It was only a couple of weeks ago when I got a flyer in the mail, that I even knew there was a referendum and what the question was. After reading the newspaper on that weekend morning, where they detailed the highlights of the leadership debates, the phone rang and I picked it up. After hearing a very rushed introduction from a very collegiate sounding voice, I decided to give the kid a break and let him have a few minutes of my time to do a survey for this joint university study. A study that was being conducted to see how much Ontarians knew about the upcoming election, what they knew about the referendum, and what they thought about various issues. Probably to judge the effectiveness of the campaigns, media coverage, and accuracy of the polls.

Maybe I'm just a softie because of my work background with clinical studies and experience on the other side when completing my own surveys for university. When he gave me the blurb about consent and confidentiality, he had me hooked. Or maybe I was just in a chatty mood. In any event, my answers were probably all over the map. But I'd like to think that I sounded informed, even if my answers were based on my " Election Referendum for Dummies" speed reading conducted just minutes before. At least I had my husband fooled, as he listened and gestured to me with incredulity. I could see it in his eyes "How do you know all that stuff?". I guess he didn't know what a BS-er his wife could be. Scary.

Which windingly brings me to the original topic of today's post. I saw the cutest film a couple of nights ago, a documentary made in China that was shown at the Toronto International Film Festival just this past September. It's part of a series of films under the umbrella "Why Democracy". The film, called "Please Vote for Me" follows an election of a Hall Monitor in a fairly large school in a Chinese city.



Previously the monitor had always been appointed by the teacher, but this was a lesson in democracy, an emerging concept in China. What made it most interesting and fascinating is that it was a political race between three EIGHT YEAR OLDS and it was quite hilarious, sweet but cut-throat at the same time. The filmmaker followed the three candidates home to see how they coped and prepared for the election, and also how their parents supported and really pressured the kids to well. The process included a talent contest as well as debates between the candidates.

The political antics, backroom agreements, deceit, false promises ... they were all there! You have to see it to believe it! After watching this program, it really gave me a sense of what pressure is to these kids, especially given China's one child policy, and all of the hopes that parents have placed on their only children.

All I can say is after witnessing that, I'm a total softie on my offspring! It also explains some of my mother's interesting childrearing philosophies.

Catch this one if you can, you won't be disappointed.

Tuesday Special - a little bit o' this; a little bit o' that

Thanksgiving in the new kitchen...

We had my side of the family over for Thanksgiving dinner last night, and it was a big test because, you see, although we have already used the oven once, it was for a sticky rib dish, a very quick and easy recipe. Not a honkin' 9 pound rib roast. So our gas range was still a roast-virgin.

We thought we would do a very straightforward meal - roast beef, roast fall vegetables, starting with a simple Caesar salad. My sister was bringing ice wine from her very recent trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake; my brother was bringing dessert (he and his wife are great at making dessert). We were all set.

The perfect kitchen utensil? A temperature probe; a PROGRAMMABLE temperature probe. I poked it into the roast, popped it in the oven, attached the probe to the receptacle, and with the push of a few buttons, presto - convection roast on auto-pilot. The oven would cook the roast until the perfect doneness, and then shut off on its own. My kind of cooking!

The perfect kitchen TOOL? Yours truly. My parboiled potatoes and yams quickly became mush as I overboiled them. Either I was lulled by the comfort of knowing the oven would take care of the cornerstone of the meal, or my brain was just comfortably numb. I'm still getting to know the power of the gas elements. Let's just say we're not exactly comfortable with each other yet. . So while at the top of the pot the potatoes were perfectly firm and ready for roasting, the bottom half were past the point of no return. I thought I might salvage the yams by tossing them around the roast with some carrots. But alas, I put the carrots in too early and they were frick-a-zeed by the time the roast was done.

Mashed potatoes and stir-fried broccoli with asparagus and mushrooms became our last-minute substitutions. At least I had a plan B.

It was so nice to have a house with kids and babies in it again. My nieces are the most adorable little girls. They are smiling and responsive now - it's just amazing to see the little changes in them in such a short time!



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

Rude Awakening...

Courtesy of my relatives' well wishes and gifts this weekend, was the inescapable fact that I have another birthday coming up very quickly. When I was in my 20's it was great cause for celebration because as far as I was concerned, any time there was an opportunity for a party, I was your party girl. My 30's, they were pretty good too, although a bit tougher in the later years as I approached the big 4-0. Now that I'm in my 30-tens, it's actually getting rather painful.

I suppose I'm not doing too badly. When my teenage niece comments on my jeans, that's gotta be a good thing, no? Thanks Holly - I love you extra for that!

In any case, to ease my pain, this drizzly morning I went to Bobos Spa & Nails salon for their Tuesday Special - Manicure and Pedicure for the price of a Pedicure alone. I've been searching high and low for the latest O.P.I. shade called "My Private Jet", a sparkly gray hue for fall, and lucky me, they had it at the salon! And I also splurged when she asked whether I wanted the Dead Sea SaltScrub for my aching legs and feet. What a lovely experience - pleasant ladies who were professional and friendly, sitting in a lovely massage chair... then getting caught up on the latest gossip via People and In Style magazines, sipping green tea while I waited for my digits and toes to dry. If I didn't have to pick up little Diva by 11:30 AM sharp, I could have gladly stayed there another couple of hours!

When my hands were done, my first impression was I wasn't too sure about the colour. To be honest, it almost looked TAUPE! That's a nice colour on Asian skin, now, isn't it? But once I got outside, my fingers took on a life of their own, all sparkly, not in a drug store pinky-gum shade, but quite elegant on my shorter nails. When I got home, I promptly went on eBay to take advantage of our above par dollar and presto (yes, I'm liking that word lately - my weird personal ode to mindfreak) - I should have that bottle of polish here in a matter of days.

My toesies were diggin' the "Lincoln Park at Midnight" deep purple.


I think you've got an idea of where you can find me on the odd Tuesday morning from now on...

Thankful

Lboy brought home his Friday school project which captured what Thanksgiving means to him. My 7 year old, in his own words, is thankful for the following:

• The World
• Food
• The Trees
• My Family
• My Friends
• My Bed

What a global thinker … and you can never forget the importance of your bed!

On this Thanksgiving weekend, I give thanks for:

1) My Husband and my precious children – they are my world.

2) My parents, siblings and their families and our extended families on both sides – I’m so happy that everyone is healthy and happy, and the kids have loving aunts and uncles, big cousins and now some little cousins - more to share our love with.

3) My friends – for those that I’ve known most of my life, newer friends, and for the friendships that I’ve made with people I’ve never yet met in person.

4) My Health – I’m going to keep reminding myself not to take that for granted, keep up with the exercise so that I can stay healthy for Ian and my kids. Focus on the positive to give them the best of me.

5) My Home – not because I’ve got this glorious new kitchen, but because of the beautiful family that I have to make this a dream home with me.

6) My Options - that I live in a country that allows me to be who I want to be, celebrates diversity and the freedom of choice. I am so proud to be Canadian.

Thanksgiving cousins at Ian's family turkey fest ...

With beautiful Holly...


The Boy...


Pretty Butterflies ...


Happy feet...


Happy Thanksgiving to everyone celebrating this weekend!

Super Exercise Saturday

Neither Ian or I got to the gym at all this week. And with this being Thanksgiving weekend, it was imperative that we at least worked out one day - or the guilt, the guilt!

After hitting Shopper's drug mart for the great sale on diapers (yes, we're still trying to get past this stage grrrr!), and then the grocery for a honkin' huge prime rib roast that we will serve to my family on Monday, I took the girlie to my gym, while Dad took the boy to his own private gym (ie. the condo gym at my folks). Yes, the hubby is now going to my parents' building's state of the art gym on a regular basis, as it's on his way home after work. Hardly anyone uses it (but my parents do); any time that he's there he's usually alone. Him and the TV set. The scenario worked out really well today. Any alone time that Ian can have with his little boy is so precious these days. And my boy refuses to go to the childminding facility at my gym, because he feels he's too old at the ripe age of seven.

G, however, loves accompanying me on Saturday mornings. The childminding ladies are so good with her - they draw and do arts and crafts with her. And there are some older girls there too, and you know how kids are always drawn to those older and not younger. Which is why she prefers my weekend gym (the rest of the week is usually babes in arms, not great company for a preschooler).

Because I hadn't been in a week, I decided to throw myself into the workout. And almost threw out most of my body - at least it felt that way, and my head became a lovely shade of autumn leaf red. But it was exhilerating. I'm so hooked on Bodyjam - here's a taste of what I did today...



"Toe, heel, hips .... lean with it ... Whoot!!!!" LOVE IT!

Let's get cultured...

My son's first big project of the year is to put together an "All about my family" box, with pictures, mementos, and articles that represent his family, culture, traditions celebrated and his ancestry. I am so stressed. I really don't want to be one of those parents that actually DOES the project for their child. I'm trying so hard not to be.

Admittedly we're finding my heritage, with my Chinese background, to be a bit easier to represent in this project. We don't celebrate all the traditions, and I grew up very Canadian, but there are several activities that we participate in that are just so ingrained. A few that I've already blogged about.

The more difficult part is trying to find representation from his Dad's side, which is Canadian from a few generations back, with German and Scottish along the way. We don't really celebrate any uniquely German or Scottish customs. There are many traditions that we adhere to, but what really is Canadian culture? What's most distinct about Canada is really how young the country is. And that people come from all over the world, and are fighting to come here, to experience the freedom to celebrate their culture and traditions in this country.

With my brain hurting, after Giselle and I made our way to pick Liam up from school, and ultimately left with only his backpack (remember, Liamster, the serial playdate playmate - took off with his one of his best buddies), I decided to head to the library to try to find inspiration.

So this is what we'll be studying this weekend...





There's got to be some German/Scottish content somewhere in there, right?