Weekly Winners #38 - Fall

Orange Red
What a pair
Scream ...(then take the picture)

HAPPY WINNERS EVERYONE!

For other winners, visit LOTUS.

The Grandmas by the bus go ...

One of the things that I remember about my Grandmother was her stubbornness in speaking only Chinese, even though I'm pretty sure she was completely fluent in English. I mean, how could you live in Canada for over 40 years and not be? I swear, she even knew some French, being in Montreal and all. My sister and I would have conversations completely in English in front of her sometimes (to discuss secretive stuff, that teenagers do, we were nice that way)... and she would throw in a word or two every so often that would confirm our suspicions. But whenever we would confront her or ask, she would deny understanding a single thing.

So she would launch into conversation in Cantonese, with anyone, even if they were obviously not Asian. And appear shocked when they wouldn't understand her. Eventually she would just get really pissed off. What a riot she was. She would do this to Ian sometimes, and with a little charade-playing, he could actually understand her. It would make him laugh, a lot.

I thought about her this morning at the school bus stop. All the kids at this stop happen to be Asian. Now I'm not sure whether they are all Chinese, but I suppose that my kids appear the "least" Asian because they are of mixed heritage. "Half-age" -I spelled this phonetically as it's a term I heard in Vancouver for the first time this year. A term used by a hostess at a restaurant who couldn't stop fawning over my kids, saying how beautiful they were and how she hoped she would have kids like that one day (only the young, I know). But I digress...

The little boy across the street started Junior Kindergarten this year and is taking the bus for the first time as well. His family just moved in a few months ago, and he is being cared for by whom I assume to be, both his grandmothers. Who don't speak much English.

This was his first day at the bus stop without either of his parents. Today his grandmothers brought him kicking and screaming. He was crying, and making a fuss. One of the ladies turned to the older boy who waits at the bus with my kids. She started rattling off in Mandarin. I know this because I know bits and pieces, but I couldn't follow her questions. And neither could the boy. He just looked at her dumbfoundedly. Finally the other lady clued in and said in broken English "You understand?" and the boy replied. "No, sorry."

Then I could hear them chatting away to each other, and I'm sure from their tone of voice they were appalled. But they asked "You take Ricki to school?". And the boy said he would, but he didn't know Ricki's class.

So then my boy piped in, "I'll take him. I know whose class he's in, he's right next to G's room".

I told the ladies that my son knew where Ricki should go and they nodded gratefully at him. I couldn't help but beam with a little pride, ruffling my son's hair proudly.

That boy, he's been doing his darnedest to impress me lately. It's working.

And my Grandma? She's been gone almost 15 years now. But she was the one holding and consoling me when I was 4 years old. Crying and not wanting to get on the bus to go to Chinese school - that was me when I was a little Ricki.

A tiny glimpse of what seemed to have happened just yesterday. And it made me smile.

Weekly Winners #37

I didn't take the original,
but here's the artist behind the masterpieces that follow:





And a random shot of mooncake, for you troubles (yummmmm...)

HAPPY WINNERS EVERYONE!

For other winners, visit LOTUS.

Now this is how the day should start...

As I'm rushing the kids and helping them get dressed in order to meet the schoolbus that is due in a matter of minutes, the Boy notices something.

"Mom, is that white hair I see on your head?"

I reply with a sigh in my voice,

"Probably. It's from the stress, sweetie. It's a busy time for me now, so I haven't had a chance to colour it. And Mommy's getting old."

He puts his hand through my hair, lifts it through his fingers and says,

"Wow, there's quite a bit..." with wonder on his face.

But then he smiles at me and says,

"It's actually silver, Mommy. Silver is WAY cool."

My boy, my heart.

Thursday Thirteen: catching up

Since September started, I feel like my life is a handful of sand, with all the grains slipping through my fingers. I don't know what it is, I just feel overwhelmed ...I can't keep up. Sort of like I'm doing the "running-man" and getting nowhere fast.

Hence, very little "real" blogging going on for me, and I'm really missing it. Not just the writing, but the bloghopping, and I'm not even getting to my regular reads. I am really, really missing the community. I find that you only get back what you put in, and lately, it's not happening for me. I am finding minimal to no blog time.

Perhaps because of the following:

1/ It's the first time both kids are in school. I think I'm still feeling the adjustment of having my baby girl in school, and on top of that, her taking the bus. She loves it, but that only makes me feel marginally better.

2/ Even though the girlie started kindergarten this year, and I do get a couple of hours free in the morning, the time WHIPS by. I feel I get nothing accomplished in that time.

3/ Nothing accomplished likely because I went from zero to 2 work projects within a one week period. With timelines in the weeks, rather than months. Yay for some pay; but how is this supposed to work with a kindergartener still at home half the day? Things that make you go " hmmmmm....?"

4/ One of these projects required onsite consultation with over an hour commute. Traffic, what the hell is that??!!! Now I remember why I hate commuting.

5/ Hubby's work travel has picked up again. Let's see now, he's away 2.5 weeks out of 4, including the weekend. Nice. I am just in awe of single parents. Totally and utterly.

6/ My trips to the gym were few and far between in the summer. You'd think that all this running around would help me stay in shape. Not really, I just feel constantly stressed, out of breath and in a rush. So I've been catching up, big time. The pain, oh the pain.

7/ I am not cooking enough and eating more prepared foods. Just to keep up with the pace. This is horrid, I know. If I could only get my act together and plan accordingly. So I think my unhealthy eating habits are affecting my energy level.

8/ With hubby away, I have no one to drink with. No, stop laughing, I'm serious here. My bottle of ready-to-pour Mojito is just sitting there, as are some lovely bottles of Argentinian and Washington wine, and some Niagara rieslings.

Drinks to lower my stress level. Maybe I need one now.

9/ The lessons have started. I feel guilty because my boy wants music lessons for the first time this year and I have yet to book them, primarily because I'm hesitant to do more running around. Isn't that awful? I need to get my act together to maybe find someone who will come to the house; but that may cost a mint.

He's so cute, he offered just to take lessons online to save time and money. He's only 8, sometimes his maturity astounds me.

10/ I am just uninspired. I am missing those "a-ha" bloggable moments, those little nuggets of life that usually just have me tickled pink to write about.

11/ I can't get to sleep much before midnight every night. I've always been a nightowl, but I thought the theory was that as you got older, you didn't need as much sleep. I'm blowing that theory out the window; I almost feel like taking a nap every afternoon. Usually at about the time I have to go pick the boy up from school.

12/ The new TV season has started, and it's so much easier to sit down in front of "So You Think you can Dance Canada", enjoy the pure talent and dream about "what if"... than coming up with an intellectually stimulating blog post. With the big shot season premieres coming up in the next couple of weeks (Lipstick Jungle, Eli Stone, Grey's, CSI ...), the blog will be in dire straits, just dire.

Oh who am I kidding, I don't have energy to get up off my arse and turn the computer on after I've gotten the kids to bed. One button on the remote is about all I can handle.

13/ The computer screen is bugging me, I think. Because now I have actual WORK on my computer that needs to be done. For the longest time my computer was my salvation, away from all the baby, kidstuff, my escape to write. About anything and everything ... except about work.

The newspaper, now that's what I've been getting into. Having a kick at old school.

I think I've just started a new stage in life; and it's all about adjusting to my new reality.

So if I post a little less for the next while ...

Weekly Winners # 36: Hanging Around

HAPPY WINNERS EVERYONE!

For other winners, visit LOTUS.

The Break and the Reason

The place: Stratford, Ontario, for an offsite work meeting.

The background: The fall of 2003. About a week after finding out that our fifth IUI (intrauterine insemination), did not take.

The straw: A colleague of mine at this training program admitted that she was indeed expecting.

The camel's back: I excused myself, went to the ladies' room, made sure no one else was there, got into a stall. And broke down. I could not take it any longer.

*****

How did it come to this?

The stress of the scheduling was a huge factor. With the travel and meetings in our work schedules getting in the way, it took close to a year to complete the five cycles. The frustration was bringing us down as well. We were exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. And we still had a very active preschooler to deal with. How fair was this all to him?

The running around each cycle, dealing with the traffic, getting to the lab for daily bloodwork, ultrasounds and the waiting and waiting. The drugs weren't helping my temperament much either. Feeling bloated and cranky 24/7 had actually become the norm.

An open concept office. That was wonderful. At least when we were trying for baby number one, I had a real door. But with the company move, management decided that everyone under VP status did not need a door. In the spirit of working together, better apparently, we all became Les Nessman noobs.

There's nothing like having to track down a small conference room or shut yourself into a filing room to find the privacy to make these "results of the month" calls. I'd whisper quietly into the receiver, keeping my fingers crossed that no one would come in or need the room at the last minute. Then I would anxiously wait for the results of the blood tests taken earlier in the day.

Sometimes the response was compassionate: "So sorry, sweetheart. Maybe next time."

Other times, not so sweet: "Nope. Negative. Bye."

I don't know which I preferred. The news was the same, so in the end what did it matter?

Five times too many. Five times of having to clench my teeth, wipe away my tears, pray that my face wasn't too red, and compose myself before walking back into the office with an efficient clip. As if nothing had happened. As if my womb, still-empty of baby, didn't hold the weight of my heavy, sunken heart. We knew the chances of IUI being successful after more than three times were very small. The law of diminishing returns was in full force.

During the period of the IUIs, we had started looking into adoption. That information package was still sitting there for us to look at again.

Ian was as supportive as ever. He always maintained that he was happy with the status quo. The urge for baby #2 was mostly mine, an inexplicable obsession. But he would welcome a second baby, and had very positive thoughts about adoption. In fact, as we were looking at adoption in China, it might have been a way to fulfill a dream of his own ... to have a 100% Asian baby. We used to joke about that when we were first married; he's always maintained that Asian babies are just the cutest...but I'd respond that if that was indeed what he wanted with our kids, well, his procreative involvement would be problematic.

But I had to be honest with myself. Was this IT for us? The end of the roller coaster? Was I not willing to go the next step? Did I not have enough in me to make that huge leap into IVF land? Did we have enough in u$ to start down the slippery slope of hope?

So we were at a crossroads.

*****

We decided we needed a break. After two years and five IUI's, the next cycle - it came and went. No poking, testing, ultrasounds, shots, stirrups, samples, tubes - nothing. We took the time to gather our thoughts, digest everything and decide what made sense for us, for our family.

In November, we came to an agreement. We would proceed with one IVF cycle. And take it one cycle at a time. How could we not? I never in a million years thought we would have to go this far. But we had to at least try.

So over Christmas, instead of another frantic month, we took it easy. Enjoyed our time with our boy. But we did attend an IVF orientation. We signed the papers, brought the information, including all of the presciptions necessary, home with us. I made another appointment for the new year to learn how to self-inject.

Taking a look at our calendars, the earliest we could schedule our first IVF cycle was in April.

April.

Something to look forward to in the spring.

*****

My musical memory: this was 3.5 year old L's fave tune at the time...

(okay, I'll admit it, it was me trying to train my kid to become the next hot Eurasian lead singer of a hot band ;)

And yes, in case you've noticed, I decided to group all of my infertility posts in one spot - check the sidebar for "My Infertility Chronicles" blog. So if you're new, you can follow my journey from the very beginning, or what I remember of it anyway. Or rehash it with me if you've already been following. Hope it saves your fingers all that clicking and linking, and linking and clicking.

Wordless Wednesday - Firsts

Weekly Winners #35

While the hubby was coming home from here (any guesses?*)

We were busy at home too:

Yoga G style

Do-it-me-self

My Reward

HAPPY WINNERS EVERYONE!

(*bonus points to Xbox - yes, it was Prague)

For other winners, visit LOTUS.

To the first man in my life...

Today is the birthday of a very special man.

He was born in a land far away. China. You may have heard of it.

Only the China that he knew wasn't the grandiose display we've seen just this past summer. He was poor. He lived with his mother and older brother in a small village; he worked in the rice fields. His father and much older adult brother were in Canada. But he wasn't allowed into this country for years because of the discriminatory immigration policies. He didn't even meet his father until he was 10 years old.

When the powers that be finally changed the rules to allow families to join the husbands in Canada, he boarded the huge ship with his mother. His older brother had fallen ill and didn't survive to make the trip. The youngest son doesn't talk about this older brother much, other than sharing tidbits of stories of the sacrifices that were made in order to keep the youngest fed and warm.

The trip across the ocean was liberating for the young boy. He had to remember that he was to tell people he was a year younger if asked. Or they couldn't have made the fare to cross the seas. His mother was seasick the entire time and spent much of the trip in her room. So the boy passed his days playing with a Japanese boy of similar age. They didn't speak each others' language, but the language of play is universal.

They settled in Montreal. As far as he remembers, he was the youngest Chinese boy in Chinatown so most adults in the small Chinese community knew him. He was also the oldest boy in kindergarten, but he didn't mind the attention that the teacher paid to him. He was a small, skinny thing.

He caught up quickly; he finished highschool at the appropriate age, and got into the prestigous university. The first of the family to do so. He worked all through school, in the family restaurant business. (To this day, he is the uber chef of the family...you should see how he can serve it up with all the utensils. He makes a mean shrimp and black bean sauce.)

He had to continue to work. After all, he had to fend for the family. A little sister had come into the picture when he was about 14; but he lost his father to a stroke before the young man finished university.

The picture got rosier. He met a pretty young nurse, courted her (in English, as ironically they spoke different dialects of Cantonese at the time) and eventually they married. All the while he still took care of his mother and young sister; and became a much respected uncle to the growing number of nieces and nephews. And the couple started their own young family. By having me.

*****

This was a huge birthday year for him, a day usually shared at a huge feast with all friends, family and associates. All would gather for a multi-course banquet to celebrate the milestone. For years we thought he'd want that. But when it came down to us planning it, he insisted that all he wanted a small, intimate celebration. So that is what we had, a lovely 10 course meal with his wife, his children and their spouses, his grandchildren, his sister and brother-in-law and wife.

From what I could tell, he enjoyed the evening. You never really know with him. He certainly loved having his grandkids around, even with the craziness of two 14-month olds, and an every-so-often bickering pair of siblings(courtesy of me). He is a bit of an enigma, this man. He's funny, witty, but often quiet and introspective. I've known him all my life, but there are still parts of him that I know I will never really understand.

But that's okay. Because the parts of himself that he does share with us, the love that he undoubtedly feels for all of his kids, and now is sharing so much more overtly with his beloved grandchildren. The advice, wisdom and support he has continually given each and every one of us. Well, those parts of him just shine.

*****

Happy 70th Birthday Dad. I hope you know how loved you are.

Fashion Friday: Boots and Dora Edition

Last week I mentioned that I didn't have any new additions to my closet because I had gained weight.

But WAIT a minute, that didn't mean I couldn't go out and buy FOOTWEAR!!!

*****

I was reminded just a couple of days ago of one of the benefits of living in the burbs... big box discount shopping malls. Sure, it's certainly not the same experience as walking along Bloor Yorkville, Queen St. West, or Yonge & Eligible (three great shopping districts in Toronto). But one can still grab a Starbucks latte and stroll right on into STYLESENSE. This is a new shoes/bag/accessories emporium that has opened up two locations IN THE BURBS. Brought to us by the retailers who started Winners. Ads have popped up within the last week on the radio, in the paper, on TV.

Shoes?! Bags ?! Why, I just HAD to go to the grand opening which happened yesterday morning. And contrary to what I told my friend Bec that I wouldn't do, here is the evidence for you all to see.

My new BOOTS:

1/ Unlisted - too cute to resist and the price to match (let's just say under $40)...


2/ Tahari - classic boot, not too high, with tuxedo buttons. Salivated and purchased...


3/ Max Studio - not technically a boot, but a shoe/boot. Buckles and all, in a dark antique brown...


Now I also bought a new briefcase because I have work again. Thank God, because how else am I going to pay for all these new items?

(I won't mention my purchases at Lucky Brand Jeans either. My husband may be reading.)

Oh, and in case you were wondering where DORA comes in, this is what she will look like in thirty-odd years, complete with glasses due to the fact that she read too many maps as a kid ...


(yes, my new haircut!)

Happy Weekend everyone!

"Wordless Wednesday"

(so who's the one not ready?)

The Day is Near

The first day of the school is on September 2 this year. We'll bring the boy to the schoolyard where the rest of the students, all several hundred of them, will congregate. We will look for the big "3" among the sea of heads to find out which placard holder will be his teacher. It will be chaotic.

And then the "other" first day of school, will be September 3. The monumental one. The first day of kindergarten for the little G.

When we decided that it made so much sense for me to stay home with the kids almost four years ago, I was thrilled. To be able to spend such quality time and actually be present for the first big steps in my daughter's life and see firsthand the continuing progress of my little man - what a gift.

But four years goes by so quickly. I hadn't thought much about this upcoming milestone. Perhaps it's because she's always been so independent, wishing that she could like her big brother and hang out with the other big kids. Constantly telling me that she's a big girl now and not my baby. She's never been too much of a baby to me.

*****

Over lunch one day this past week, my boy, the first baby, my sensitive one, asked me:

"Hey Mom, when G's in school, won't you really, really miss her?"
It took me aback a bit. And I replied:

"Well, she's been in preschool a couple of mornings a week, so it won't be such a big change."
"Mom, I know you're used to me being gone for a full 6 hours, but you've been with just G everyday. For three whole years!! I guess it will be different when she's in full-day school."
Little G piped in : "Yeah, 'cuz I'm a big girl and I'll be in kindergarten with my best friend."
The conversation then turned to something completely different. I think it was the weather.

As a mother, I tend to operate more on the "drill sergeant" end of the spectrum. I don't really get too sentimental, I lack patience, and even though I do love to cuddle with my kids and give them spontaneous hugs and kisses, sometimes I feel that I can even be downright cold. At least that's my self-perception.

But after the kids left the table and I was by myself in the kitchen, washing the dishes, seeing the water swirl down the drain ... I started to cry. Just a little.

My baby, my littlest one, will be starting school. She is so excited. She will sail through her first day. She will not look back. She may even forget to say goodbye to me. I know this with such certainty.

There's a part of me that wishes we could just have a little more summer, a little more sun, a little more play.

"On an island in the sun
We'll be playing and having fun..."*



The rush to grow up, it's just starting. I know it isn't nearly as huge as this.

But honestly, right now, this is the most I can handle. And barely at that.

(*Who knew I was such a Weezer fan. I can't get this tune out of my head these past few days...)