Weekly Winners - Kids in the Distillery

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

Worth it, I think.

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

Happy Weekend all!

Mom Central comes to Canada, eh...

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

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

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

See for yourself at www.momcentral.com.

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

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

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



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

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

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

Different, for sure.

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

Did I mention that she's 72 today?

With the attitude and energy of a 27 year old.

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

Happy, happy birthday Mom.

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

Reinforcements

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

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

"What? Why?"

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

"But Daddy..."

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

"But Daddy, why did the caterpillar die?"

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

"What do caterpillars eat?"

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

"Oh. Okay, Daddy."

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

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

Gimme Sympathy

"I wonder sometimes if I'm cut out for this. "

These were the words I uttered under my breath to my husband as we finally got the kids out the door to enjoy a sunny afternoon in the city.

"Do you mean parenthood?"

"Yeah, that, motherhood, all of this."

*****

We woke up yesterday morning, albeit a little later than usual. We had a potluck party that was a great success the evening before. And what has become a bit of a tradition for us after a party, after we've plunked the kids to bed (or check that they've passed out and transport them to their beds), hubs and I sit back and enjoy a few more drinks and listen to some tunes. Just the two of us. My favourite part of the evening.

The morning was a glorious one. We had a few things we needed to clean up, so we did get a later start on the day. But we really wanted to do something together as a family. I went online to check if there was anything going on in the city. And of course there was. The day was planned.

After I came down out from my shower, I could hear voices, whining, angry tones coming from my 9 year old. Questioning words coming from the 4 year old. And my husband trying to negotiate and convince them that it would be fun. But no, they wanted to go to the park. At the school. Somewhere I go everyday; sometimes twice a day.

So as I popped my head out to ask what the latest plans were, I was told that we were no longer going into the city. I got into the action in a last ditch attempt, telling them that there would be buskers and so many neat things to see in a cool part of the city. Their Dad said that we could do both. But no, the boy hunkered down in his room; the girlie whined about her sand toys. Twenty minutes later we were still at an impasse.

I threw up my hands and just yelled "Fine. Go the park, I'm gonna skip it as I'm there with you everyday. I've got to get the stuff to make the bake sale items anyway."

Call it childish, selfish... but for once I wanted to do something that I wanted to do. I wanted to bring the kids with us, to experience the city with us. To get them out of the house; out of the neighbourhood, out of the burbs. A change of scenery, a respite from the daily treadmill which has become my life.

I lost it. I just started to cry. I felt silly, but it was cathartic as well. I often I feel that I am losing it, have lost it, that fundamental part of the equation: Me.

Everything is always a negotiation. A struggle to convince people to move, to listen. Cajoling, convincing, pleading, lecturing, guiltily "forcing" ... an uphill battle with the growing force of the children, who carry more and more weight as they get older. A battle that becomes more difficult to wage.

*****

Hubs mentioned he'd have to work late again tonight, so I said to him that he HAD to confirm the dates for me to book tickets for our vacation plans. Today. I've been checking the flights, the fares etc. for well over a couple of months now, taking books out of the library, coming up with my own permutations and combinations based on dates that are "thereabouts". Thinking that I'd better book accomodations soon too.

Things are superbusy for the man at work, but every time I had brought up the subject of the flights, he'd say,"yeah, we've got to book it"... and I would wait again for a free moment with him. He's got a lot of travel on his plate, but this time with family is priority for him.

But honestly, I get sick of having to bug him all the time to sit down with me and solidify the dates. I hate sounding like a bitchy whiny hag which I feel is what I have become over the years. Because he doesn't listen to me as carefully as he should, he thinks nothing is ever a problem, laissez-faire is his M.O. Just in time. Everything always works out for him in the long run. And last I checked on Friday, the fares were the lowest I'd seen. But we had a crazy weekend, with ballet recitals, soccer, potluck etc... we had the stuff with the kids, and I mentioned it again, but didn't want to rag on him. Again. So I didn't.

This morning when he was sitting finally, giving the final dates to me, yeah, we should book it. And I popped into the website and lo and behold the price had jumped $$140 a ticket!!! That amounts to almost $500 more than it was the last time I bugged him about it just a couple days ago. It sickened me, it really did.

Here I am doing a happy dance when I save 50 cents on a loaf of bread at WalMart. And here he is saying, oh, don't worry about it, it is what it is, oops. If only he had really listened to me and sat down the previous 20 odd times I mentioned it; if only I had mentioned it yet again and nailed him to the chair and booked it on Friday night.

If only.

So again, I lost it. I went ballistic. I had another moment. When the hell did I become so goddam weepy?

It's not just the money. It's the fact that I'm always having to go after him to make these commitments, make plans, for us, not just for me, for us and two kids who rely on us. I'm tired of it. His work is important, I know, and that's what brings home the major bacon right now. I tread real lightly because of this. But in the whole scenario, my voice comes last. Or at least it seriously feels that way.

******

I'm afraid of becoming a wailing, nagging, haggy bitch. Or maybe even a whore. pit viper. Which is what I am these days to my kids, my husband.

I. HATE. IT.

I hate what I'm becoming. What I've become.

It bothers me, because seriously, I have a great life. I have a wonderful husband, great kids, a lovely, loving home. People who love me. And for the most part, my health. It feels so wrong to feel this way.

Why can't I just let things roll? Why can't I go for the ride, take things as they come, be less stressed about everything? Why can't I stop teaching my kids swear words in the car? Why do I have this honking boil growing in the middle of my forehead? Why does it only take a couple of drinks to give me a hangover these days? Is this what staying up past midnight baking three loaves of banana bread and individually wrapping 36 slices, will do to me?

At this rate, I'm sure I've shaved 10 years off my life.

At least.

(Boy was contrite. Hubs has acknowledged that he needs to listen to me more. He thinks I need to work out again, he sees my head spinning at 100 mph, turning red and emitting steam from the ears. He doesn't fancy that look on me either.)



That's the official video. I think I need to tone it down to this level, though.

Weekly Winners - In My Life

I haven't been by WW in a couple of weeks, not a lot of cool photos to share, but I had a little Picnik this week...

Winded

Kinderdancing

Junior Wolverine

Ortonish Me

Why I'm a bit wrecked this morning...

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

Friday Fragments

I haven't posted much this week, and I don't know if it's just an overall "meh" feeling I've been having lately. The weather has been just gorgeous, but I haven't felt much like going out or doing anything outside.

Well, with the exception of spending an hour scrubbing this:

Isn't that just beautiful? You know when they tell you that the composite deck that you're spending extra, extra money on so that you don't have to restain it every year; about the wonder of the material that is miraculously virtually maintenance-free?

They're LYING (and don't get up in arms, I know the manufacturers tell you they NEVER said it was maintenance free, but give me a royal break).

We got a new deck put in a couple of years ago, and went with the composite so that the kids wouldn't have to worry about splinters. So no splinters, but now it's so moldy that I don't want the kids dragging any lovelies from their feet into the house. A big deck that is totally grossing us out. The manufacturer sent me deck wash and mildew defender, but it never worked. We decided to try another off the shelf wash, which seems to make it better, but not gone.

Did I mention that I am so very NOT handy or outdoorsy? I should score major brownie points with hubs for this effort.

*****
I ran into a workout buddy at the mall the other day. We both had our 4 year old girls with us, running around as usual. She asked where I've been as it's been over 4 months since she's seen me, and she asked after my Dad. Last we spoke I told her Dad had cancer; she told me her Mom also had cancer. Dad left us January; her mom succumbed in March. Cancer sucks.

I'm going to try to meet her at the gym next week. Maybe that will make my blahs go away.

*****
I volunteered at the girlie's kindergarten class yesterday (my usual) and today, for a T-shirt Tie-dyeing event. The girl's teacher is a brave, brave woman. 20 plus 4 - 5 year olds with DYE?? Unbelievably, it went off without a hitch. The kids will wear their hippie numbers for their dance performance in a couple of weeks.

I also promised to contribute to the boy's bake sale at school. He asked that I make his favourite ... banana bread. Apparently they need three dozen slices for Monday. I'm using Jessica Seinfeld's recipe - it's got a secret healthy ingredient, but it remains the best banana bread I've ever tasted.

My husband is astounded at my domesticity.

*****

There's a woman who parks her car in front of my yard every day, waiting to pick up her daughter from the school bus which stops in front of my house. She's been there every day for the last three years at least.

Yesterday after she picked her daughter up, I got in the car with the girl as we had to do some last minute shopping before her brother came home. So I was behind the woman's car as she drove up the street ... and turned into her driveway about 10 houses up!!! What?!!

I know we're a driving obsessed community up here (and you do need a vehicle to get around as transit is not so frequently available). But seriously, her daughter can WALK about 3 minutes (run in about 50 seconds) and be at her front door step.

My mind is boggled.

*****

I grounded the girl this week. She threw a tantrum at her swimming lesson and refused to go in the water. She does this to me EVERY. FRICKIN'. LESSON. Usually I can cajole her to get in for the last 15 minutes. Then she does laps across the warm pool. So I gave her the option this time: finish the lesson and go on a playdate with her best gal pal for the rest of the afternoon as per usual, or spend the afternoon in the washroom at home, no TV, no treats for the rest of the day.

She chose the washroom.

And she did it (well, she sat for about an hour). When her father came home, she looked at me and asked if she was still grounded. I said "Yes". She turned to Dad proudly and said "I'm GROUNDED!"

I see some major, major headaches in my future.

*****

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

'Wordless' Wednesday - Lows and Highs

(Yes, Costco is still EVIL ...)

(But let there be LIGHT... angels singing??!!)

(Finally! We came to an agreement on this, after I wouldn't shut up about it for the last year and a half. Seriously, check my posts from that period. And I actually wanted it to be a hanging pendant, but when hubs opened the packaging - it only had a short rod. I just wanted him to get it up. Ahem, no further comments from the peanut gallery.

And yes, I really, really, really need to get a life. Or at least back to the gym.)

For more Wordless, visit here and here.

Rap and Roll (Vietnamese Salad Rolls, that is)

I'll let you in on a little secret.

Although I profess to not like to cook much, it's really not so bad. (Just don't tell my husband I told you).

The thing I really enjoy is making appetizers. My problem is that when I find something that's a hit, I tend to stick to it as a standard. My strawberry and spinach salad and bean salad, for instance, have become regular potluck fare.

So for the Victoria Day weekend annual barbecue hosted by our friends around the corner, I thought I'd mix it up a little. My contribution was "Vietnamese Salad Rolls", a recipe I discovered at Granville Island Public Market in Vancouver over 10 years ago. Here's the recipe:

You'll need (for 8 rolls):

8 pcs rice paper
6-8 oz rice vermicelli
8 green onions trimmed
8-12 lettuce leaves
8 - 10 oz cooked shrimp, chicken or fish (I cook about 3 shrimps per roll)

1/2 C hoisin sauce
1/4 - 1/3 C satay sauce
Water to dilute dipping sauce
Chopped herbs for garnish (eg cilantro)


Bring a pot of water to a boil. Turn off, add vermicelli noodles and let soak for 3 - 5 minutes. Rinse with cold water and drain well.
Fill a large bowl with very warm water, immerse one sheet of rice paper in the water until it softens. (It helps to have a goofy assistant).

Lay it flat on a surface (I use a dishcloth so it doesn't stick) to add the filling.

Put a lettuce leaf on the rice paper, add about 1 oz (a few strands) of the rice noodle lengthwise on top of the lettuce. Leave about an inch on the bottom. Then add the desired amount of seafood or chicken and a green onion in front of the vermicelli so that the green part of the onion sticks out of the finished roll. Then fold the bottom part over the ingredients, and then roll lengthwise from one side to the other, wrapping tightly. Repeat for the remaining rolls.




Dipping sauce: Mix the hoisin with the satay, and dilute with water to desired consistency. Garnish with chopped coriander or Thai basil.

You can use whatever other ingredients you might like to include in the roll, I like the crunchiness of some very thin slices of cucumber or bean sprouts.

Voila!


Make sure you visit my girlfriend Rachel's for more Mouthwatering Mondays.

*****

On the subject of rap, for the longest, longest time I didn't like it. In fact, I would turn it if I heard it on the radio. I did enjoy the first hip hop song I was ever exposed to (yes, I am THAT old) but since then, not so much.

But lately? Call it middle-aged crazy, but I'm sure the library must think I have teens at home. This is what I've borrowed to enjoy...

1/ Karl Wolf: Bite the Bullet. Initially I thought, "what have they done with the Toto's Africa", but since the boy loves it, it's grown on me.
2/ Flo Ri Da: Roots.
3/ T.I.: Paper Trail

T.I. + J.T for ya...

Bloghopping my Fragments

Welcome to another ho-hum week in Karenland, Friday Fragments-style (show some love to the Fab Mrs4444 when you get a chance):

Exciting news of the week, particularly for the blogger in me: A Bloghopping reunion!! Whoot!

It's been revived for tonight, by the awesomeness who is BusyDad Jim. I found some of my best blogging buddies through this parents/girls/boys/everyone weekend out, that was the brainchild of Jim, oh back in early 2008. We also had some fun on the now defunct cre8buzz social network. Oh the good old less than instantaneous pre-twitter days...

So if you're here from there...

welcome or welcome back! I'll be checkin' you out later, with drinks in hand. And a very special BIRTHDAY hop to my gal fellow Bhopper Secret Agent Mama. Raise a glass to this talented lady too, 'kay? And be forewarned that the following will meander, as I have saved a Pomtini especially for this occasion.

Fragment #1

Got my haircut this week by the woman who I thought I would never go back to. She first cut my boy's hair when he was 2 years old. He loved her; my daughter has loved her since her first cut at 18 months; and now my hubs also goes to her. But me? I've had this psychological wall in my brain that had "do not go to the same stylist as the kids" graffiti ed across it. Why? I do not know.

Oh wait, maybe because I tried her once when the girlie was 10 months old, and she looked at my stomach area and asked if baby #3 was along the way. Jokingly, of course, but I how could I possibly think that was funny? I seethed through the 2 hour experience of cut and colour. Hubs thought the hair was nice; I never went back for myself. Well, until yesterday.

I guess in 4 years I've finally gotten over it, and to be honest, she did do a great job. It's poofy again, but my hair's longer and thinner, so I can deal.

Fragment #2

I am in desperate need of a light fixture for our kitchen (can you believe it's almost been 2 years since we started the kitchen reno?), new set of furniture for the family room (couches have lost all spring and are now a cesspool of bacterial toxin due to rotting cheese string fibres, juice box drippings, cookie crumblings), and new window coverings to replace the blinds that have been hacked to death by light sabers gone wild.

We're hosting a potluck for my hub's department next weekend, so there's a sense of urgency. I think two years is a bit of a long wait for kitchen lighting. Better get cracking.

Fragment #3

We slept in today. Yay? Well, not really, when you're woken up by your 9 year old screaming:

"IT'S 8:20, IT'S 8:20 WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!!".

I got up and immediately sprung into action. I'm really fighting any inclination I might have to be remotely organized by refusing to make the boy's lunch the night before. As if the sandwich would be any fresher made 12 hours later just to be packed for another 5 hours...but I digress.

I asked the boy what time he got up.

"7:00 AM". WHAT?

So why didn't he wake us up earlier? Well, apparently it's not really his responsibility, he just happened to look and noticed the time, so we were lucky. Get with the program parents!!! (GRRRRRR......!!!)

Thank goodness the man had taken the day off, so he was there to help me get the girl ready. She did change outfits, but only one time due to the time constraints. Can you believe they still made it onto the bus at 8:35 AM?

Me neither.

Fragment#4

After the kids were on the bus, we parents scuttled around a bit, still recovering from the rude awakening. Sitting down for our coffee, the door bell rang and we saw a tall man through the translucent curtains by the door.

We hate door-to-door sales people. Especially before we've had our coffee. Most of the time they're unscrupulous energy supply sales people who just want to spy on our electrical bills. So Ian got up to go the door, muttering under his breath..."Wonder who this JACKASS is now..."

And opens the door to one of my old friends from high school who I haven't seen in a couple of years!! Turns out he was in the neighbourhood to visit a client and was early, wanted to stop by to say "Hi". Of course I made a mad dash up the stairs to get something on (over my Tshirt and sweats) and could overhear him laughing with the hubs about how he was sure he saw me just in that state back in good old Scarborough days.

Pleasant surprise, and he cracked up when we told him we thought he was just a regular jackass.

Fragment #5

Husband had day off + girlie wanted to go her friend's for a playdate after school = bonus child-free afternoon for the adults.

Hubs took me to lunch down in Liberty Village, a part of town going through some re- gentrification. Last time I was there was when I took the boy down for his TV show audition.

We had a great meal at the Brazen Head pub; which would have been perfect were it not for the overabundance of Irish tunes blasting through the airwaves throughout the entire meal. I like an occasional Irish jig or two, but having to constantly suppress the irrational urge to get up and kick up our heels every half second was getting a tad annoying. It's an Irish pub... we get it. Just throw in something from this century for good measure, will ya? (They did play a couple of U2, Cranberries and Pogues tunes, but only a smattering. Must drive the wait staff batty!).

Fragment #6

We saw some interesting car ornaments on the way downtown. Never seen a taxi lei'd before? We just did.

So I put my creative hat on and I think I might fashion my own lei made up of decapitated Power Ranger torsos, Batman heads and GI Joe limbs. I have a huge collection strewn all over the basement play area floor, that are just begging to be re-used. My Odyssey will look grand adorned with a superhero inspired garland, don't you think?

I know, I'm a sick, sick puppy.

*****

That's all folks. Have a wonderful weekend.

Meatball for breakfast

My mother should include "efficiency expert" in her resume. Quick, to the point, not wasting any time, tell it like it is ... all those things add up to "her". She even had my brother pack up all my Dad's things to donate within days of the funeral. I had to act real quick to get a scarf and a couple of ties as keepsakes. Mom had saved a few little trinkets for the kids, stuff that Dad had picked up from their many cruises that she had never cared for (Mom, remember, she's not all that sentimental or nostalgic). But other than that, and the most treasured of things that she kept for herself, most of it was toted away.

I suppose it was part of her dealing with the craziness of everything. She was still in a dream state, partially planted in reality, the other part of her still reeling in the thunder clouds.

So along those lines, Mom cleared up her pantry before she went for her month long trip to Hong Kong. And she passed me this:



Seems my Mom, not a huge fan of a lot of different cuisines, doesn't like Spaghetti and Meatballs. Never did, never will. So my father would pick up a can of this every so often, to get his 'fix".

I told Mom that this would go over well with the L-boy for lunch. And I had to smile.

Dad was just such a big kid at heart.

I have great memories of having a fantastic time with him when we were young.

Mom took all the part-time shifts as a nurse while we were in school, and honestly, the evenings she was working were often the most fun of our childhood. Dad would take us to the pizza joints, the fried chicken restaurants, the burger places, out for fish and chips, anything and everything our little hearts desired. For although Dad could cook (amazingly well, actually, for years even better than Mom), he loved junk just as much as we did.

I remember our trips to the pop Shoppe to pick up all manner of candy coloured soda; chasing my sister through the aisles at the hardware store as he picked up things that he would just store in the toolbox, rarely to use. His toys for his collection.

We would sit in the front seat with him in his baby blue T-bird as we went from place to place. Playing with the radio dial, laughing and joking while he told us to sit still. Trying to play with the switches for the electric window, watching as my little sister opened the door and almost fell out of the moving car in the parking lot while Dad was oblivious to our screaming (what's one type of scream compared to the other when you're dealing with 6 and 4 year old girls?). My sister still thanks me to this day for saving her life. Such fond memories. None of which we were allowed to share with Mom, of course.

So the other morning as I cooked up the can's contents to pack in the boy's Thermos for lunch, I saved myself a little morsel.

And when the kids had gone to school, I ate it. In memory of Dad.

I haven't enjoyed canned meatballs since I was about 8 years old.

But this was the most delicious meatball I've had in a great while.

*****

This coming Saturday would have been my parents' 45th wedding anniversary.

I wish we could celebrate joyously as we normally would; and yet I sit here in sadness, my heart so heavy with dread for my Mother.

And I wonder if this sadness will ever really go away.

Busted

So how was the weekend for you?

On lazy Saturday mornings, we have our coffee, I read blogs, hubs reads the paper, the boy and girl catch up on TV toons before the weekend ramps up.

We used to go to the gym as a family for my regular BODYJAM party, while hubs did whatever he does there, and bring the kids to the childminding (pre- "the wounded knee/ thrown out back" period of my body fail). I am working to get back to regularly scheduled body maintenance. For now husband still tries to get to the spinning class around 11 AM to lose the extra ten pounds of travel weight he's gained over the winter. The girlie has a dance class at the civilized hour of 10:45 AM on Saturday mornings.

The predicament? What to do with the boy. Does he feel like coming with the girls to the dance class to wait it out, or go to the stinky gym childminding room? Decisions, decisions.

This past Saturday morning, the girl comes to the kitchen from the family room and announces,

"Mommy, I don't want to go to dance lessons this morning."

To which I replied, "You really should, sweetie, you missed it last week because you weren't feeling well."

"Okay, Mommy." And off she went.

Back to the family room shouting,

"L-boy, I HAVE to go to dance class today. Mommy said."

Nice try, buddy.

*****

And now for your 80's pleasure...




(Wonder how long it will be before they remake this one? After all, we're hearing all sorts of interesting sampling these days...mind you, I think that makes Flo-Rida pretty sweet)

Not as sweet as this though... gawd, I miss those days...(silly segue, but I wanted an excuse to include this...)

Weekly Winners- Mother's Day

Pretty Coral

Sunny Yellow

Tree Hugger

Playground Princess

Luckiest Mom in the World

(taken by hubs, but I loved it so had to share...)

Happy Mother's Day!!!

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

Friday Fragmented and Blog Farts

So here we are, another Friday, another week gone by, and little inspiration for anything substantial today.

Last week was my inaugural Friday Fragments post, hosted by the lovely Ms4444. And this week I discovered another great blog, Brandy's place (like I have time for more, but how can you control an addict) where I found Blog Fart Fridays, which is also a concept I will embrace wholeheartedly. Now, according to blog etiquette, can I use both terms?

Ack, whatevs. Call it a strategic alliance.

*****

No Friday Fashion posts lately, but that's not because I haven't been shopping. I do, however, realize that I should shop my closet before heading out again. A lot of the styles I've been seeing are reminiscent of things I already have stuffed in my spring/summer drawers.

I did get a mani/pedi this week though:
Pretty neutral "Tickle Me Francey" by OPI.



"Miami Beet" by OPI for a little treat...and the little foot included to distract from the bunion...


So I've been surfing eBay trying to get the best deal on some OPI nailpolish; calculator in hand at 11 PM in front of the TV. That conversion from USD is a bitch. My husband thinks I'm nuts.

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Little bro has fixed my computer. Yay! Lame big sister still hasn't saved her photos to CD. Better work fast before that "L" on my forehead starts showing again.

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My credit card has been compromised!! I tried to use it at the liquor store this morning (yes, liquor at 10:00AM) and it was declined. I tried again later and it was declined again. After phoning the credit card company and being transferred to the fraud squad, I confirmed that no, I didn't try to use my card at Dillard's in Phoenix, Arizona for a $562 purchase yesterday. I wish I had, but I instead was pumping gas and purchasing Perler tweezers in suburban Ontario. Exciting stuff.

So the card has to be trashed. A minor inconvenience, but I'm so glad they caught it. It's the third time we've had this happen. The first time the cops phoned us and said our number was found on a list of stolen numbers. The second time, thieves charged drycleaning, pizza and videos from Blockbuster on our card, which wouldn't be out of the ordinary if it wasn't clear across town at odd hours.

I'm suitably impressed by these fraud busters.

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Hubs came home early today after a dental appointment. As it was a lovely afternoon, he suggested a barbecue, which I also had on my mind. As he was working up the grill, I decided to put on some tunes, looking forward to hearing some Ray Lamontagne...

smooth, smoky, sounds...hey --- why is the MiniPops 5 CD in here and where is my CD? Little pre-pubescent voices singing The Pussy Cat Dolls just ain't gonna do it...Ray's CD* packaging is empty.

Where's RAY???

Hyperventilating, and because I hadn't had much at lunch to eat, everything was going 'white' in front of my eyes, as in "I'm going to pass out ..." white.

Hubs grabs me a cookie and passes me a glass of wine...

"Here, geez, have something to eat, drink something, you're crazy. It's only a CD!".

"But it's RAY!!!"

"It'll turn up. Don't be such a freak."

Wonderfully placated within seconds...I'm such a cheap date.

So I'll resume the hunt tomorrow.

*****

I've done a couple of more reviews on the other blog... one about cleaning (stop laughing...Swiffer encourages it...) and the other about some beauty products at Joe Fresh that I just had to try for myself ...

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(* I know, I'm so ridiculously old school...well, I mean OLD. This should be on my iTunes or something, right?)

Update on the Taekwondo Kid: It appears as if they've "kissed and made up" and are both back at school. Suspensions have been dismissed, but the charges for assault are still hanging over the Korean boy's head even though the broken nosed boy's family have asked for them to be dropped. No can do, only the Crown can do that, once you get the police involved. Good going, school admin. Hopefully the powers that be in the Crown office will see reason.

And according to reports, there was no history of bullying between these particular two boys.

But in my opinion, "poor choice of words" during a fight, does not negate a racial slur. "Doesn't know why he said those things..."? Those words come from somewhere within, even if the kid and family "aren't racist'. And he still threw the first punch along with it.

Enter Insanity

You know when I prayed for that baby who was so long in coming? So desperate was I for baby that I said that I wouldn't care if we had a brat.

You know when we named that same baby a moniker that has graced magazine covers and Paris runways, and I said it would suit a girl with attitude?

Gahhhhhhh!!!! It's freakin' payback time, now.

I'm all for my daughter being strong-willed, stubborn and assertive. I just wish that she had someone else to practice on.

We're going through a bit of a trying time with the little one lately. She seems to be happy calling all the shots, not being too keen to follow rules (unless she comes up with them herself), wanting everything her way and for her royal subjects to wait on her hand and foot. Princess syndrome, all day, 24/7.

She's been fortunate. Her big brother is fantastic to her. He's a really wonderful kid. And perhaps, therein lies the problem.

She knows this. She hears her parents talk about how wonderful he is; she hears her relatives tell their wonderboy stories; she hears her brother's friends parents mention how mature beyond his years he is … all about him, him, him. No wonder her current modus operandi is that any attention, no matter how garnered, is better than attention toward her brother. The more annoying she gets, the better. Things are particularly testy when she needs a nap.

Today was an especially spectacular example.

After a wonderful morning at school with further playtime at the playground with her classmates , we came home with her best pal to a fabulous lunch of hot dogs and toast with grapes on the side. The girlie had a couple of quick meltdowns which are par for the course, but after a half hour of watching "Flushed Away "with her buddy, we were off to their afternoon sport program. More play time, this time along with her other best friend in tow. Life shall we say, is sweet.

”Okay, time to drive your pal home, Mommy has to get gas for the car and rush back in time for big brother to be home.”

"No, I don’t want to go home. I want to stay at my friend’s.”, as we drove up her friend’s driveway.

“Well, not today sweetie. We have to arrange it with his Mommy. But I picked up some nice crafts that we can work on when we’re home.”, I said patiently while her pal bounded out of the car. I opened up her side of the van so she could say good-bye.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I WANNA GET OUT NOWWWWWWWWW!!!!”.

Screeching at the top of her lungs, tears rolling down her red face, her arms and legs outstretched as she tried to bust out of her five-point harness ... she was truly a sight to behold. I couldn’t reason with her, so I just shut the van door to muffle her screams as I returned to the driver’s side. I got into the van, and reversed, with her screaming continuously ringing in my ear. All the while repeating that we had crafts and fun stuff to look forward to.

Then I looked at my rear view mirror and I saw her undoing her carseat buckle.

I cracked. I pulled over to the side of the road, opened her door, read her the riot act about how her behaviour was unacceptable as I tightened up her belt, shut the door yet again, muffling higher pitched screams, and then got back into the driver’s seat.

I was done listening to any more hysterics. So I did the only logical thing. Not even paying attention to what was on, I cranked up the radio to almost full volume…

Don't even know how the hell that showed up on my dial. But it was exhilarating, I wanted to just let loose with some good old-fashioned headbanging on my steering wheel.

In any case, it made the little old lady walking by with her little dog almost jump out of her skin.

And the girlie? Stupefied, within 30 seconds, her tears seemed to have dried up, her wailing stopped, and after I lowered the volume, we drove the two minutes to the gas station.

After pumping the gas, I got back in the car and her royal highness Princess G squeaked out...

"Uh, Mommy, can we go home and do crafts now?"

And with that, she promptly passed out on the way home.

Now THAT was an awesome lullaby.

Wordless Wednesday

(well, maybe after his nap he might sneeze at you...)

Taekwondo Kid

I don't focus much on my cultural background. Having grown up in Canada at a time when most “non-white” families were looking to integrate rather than hang on too tightly to cultural roots, I consider myself more Canadian than anything else. We do partake in the big Chinese celebrations such as Chinese New Year, and honouring our ancestors every year, but even my own mother forgets sometimes that although I don’t speak a lot of Cantonese, I do happen to understand most of it.

My Dad never had a Chinese accent; if there was anything regional in his voice, it was more reminiscent of Quebecois accented English, as he grew up in Quebec. My mom’s accent is a combination of everywhere she’s been since she was a kid, so very hard to pinpoint, but you know she’s Asian.

Even when we were first dating, my husband didn’t know what my background was. I think it was on our third or fourth date when he asked “What ARE you anyway?” (Of course it didn’t come out the way it’s written, it was quite a bit funnier).

This isn’t to say that I don’t consider myself Chinese and that I haven’t experienced my own share of racism as a kid. Besides being bullied for being a skinny thing with high marks and bad teeth and acne, I’m sure some of it was racially motivated. "Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at ..." I could count the number of Asian kids in my public school with my two hands, and that included my younger sister. But I had hoped that this would have changed in today's Canada, where "Smith" is no longer the predominant name in the phone book.

So it sickens me to read of the recent goings-on in a community not far from where I live.

Long story not so short: a white kid utters a racial slur and punches a Korean kid in the mouth; the Korean kid, a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, hits back in self-defence and busts the instigator's nose. The Korean boy, a top student, gets arrested and suspended, and sent a letter from the Principal, threatened with expulsion not only from the school but the ENTIRE SCHOOL DISTRICT. I think the other boy was suspended as well, but I’m not sure. The Vice Principal wonders why the Korean kid was so sensitive to being called “Chinese” (oops, what about the “f*cking” part??). The instigator's cousin, it is learned later, also hurled racial slurs at the Korean boy the day after the fight.

The student body rallies in protest over the suspension of the Korean boy, 400 kids demonstrating against the school administration, wanting to send the message that racism and intolerance is not cool. The mother of the Korean boy meets with the Vice Principal and suggests anti-racism be part of the school curriculum. The VP thinks it unnecessary as the topic is covered in “geography class”. The police have reopened the case as a possible hate crime, after the school demonstration. To be continued.

Are you enraged? Certainly at the racist kid and his family who are so stunningly caught in the backwoods with their attitudes. Not at the kids in the school, who totally get it. But what is with the “adults” in this situation? The school administration, who launched this expulsion nonsense and who I’m sure would have loved to have swept this under the table, were it not for the student protesters who are actually living the principles that are supposedly withheld in their school. I know there is "zero tolerance" for violence and rightly so in our schools, but to have one party punished so severely when the bully who started it skulks off silently the other way without any penalty (well, other than the damaged septum)? To be further investigated only after all the damage has been done to the initial injured party? What about zero tolerance for racial discrimination? Talk about being totally black and white and illogical in a situation that screamed shades of grey.

I've been hopeful that my kids are growing up in a world where race ceases to be such an issue. But perhaps I've just turned a blind eye. I just have to look at the recent election in the US to realize that - duh - while on the surface there seems to have been great strides made, it will never, ever go away. My kids are in a very multicultural school and if anything, being of mixed race, are an example of the future generations, symbolic of the meeting of cultures. To them, if someone's white, brown, black, yellow, green, red... it doesn't matter. It's stories like these that illlustrate the often hostile environment that they are growing up in, that concerns me.

What do you think the chances are that this was far from an isolated incident for this boy? This doesn't happen overnight. There's a limit to how many times you can walk away. Much talk and commentary about this story has voiced that the race card is being tossed in again as convenient, to make it an even bigger issue than it really is. However, that is indeed what started it, and the issue of racial discrimination IS a huge one.

I suppose I should be a good Mom and say that retaliation in this form is never the way to go. But honestly, in looking back at my childhood, if I had the extra minutes in my already jammed extracurricular schedule, it may not have been a bad thing for Mom to have included martial arts in the mix. There were several kids I knew growing up who deserved a good lesson or two.

Being the nice, quiet, studious Asian who will just keep taking it and not do a thing is a stereotype that has long run its course.

Good on ya, kid.

(Edited to add: as my blog pal Cid has indicated, apparently the expulsion letter was sent in ERROR. I don't know if that makes the situation any better, or even worse...)

Friday Fragments - Much Ado about Nothing

So this is how the week has been. Not a heck of a lot happening, but the good news is that there be GRASS on the lawn. Hallelujah!

Our tree in the back that has been slowly dying, just eeking back to life every spring ... has finally bit the dust. Poor thing, it looks so sad, but the worst of it is that the foliage that used to provide us privacy is no longer there. We can see every program that our back door neighbour watches on his huge screen TV. The good thing is that it's primarily sports. Whew on that one.

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I had a great girls night out with my oldest friend last Friday. As per usual, the evening flew by as we got caught up on (mostly her) shenanigans since we'd last seen each other at the high school reunion in February. She's got men clamoring to go out with her... we just wish they were the right kind of men. Annoying, really. It pains me to see her have to go through all this dating crap, but that seems to be the way it is once you reach a certain age.

Guys who are interested seem to be in a few main categories:
1/ they've never had a serious relationship and are way too set in their ways and afraid of commitment. In other words, weird beyond belief.
2/ they're divorced, bitter, have a lot of baggage and are afraid of commitment.
3/ they're married and looking for a diversion.

So I'm being ever the busy body. Despite the fact that my mother's matchmaking capabilities left a lot to be desired (not for lack of trying), I myself might give it a shot for my gal pal. I've got ONE single male friend. That's it. But there's another part that is thinking I shouldn't go there...

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My Mom is home after a month away, and she is already so busy. I spent Monday with her as she had some appointments and errands. She looked great in her denim outfit and seems to have a renewed sense of energy. I really admire her, she's amazingly independant and so social. Most of the time when I call her, she's on her way out the door. Incredible.

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Speaking of fragmented, now that my knee is almost back to normal, and my back is not so abnormal ... my laptop is now sick. It's not swine flu, but I had a serious "blue screen" sighting this morning, reading "registry failure" before I had my morning coffee. Which according to my IT pro brother is, how shall we put it, "NOT GOOD".

And considering that idiot me never saved most of my 2009 photos from the laptop elsewhere, this is considerably MORE THAN not good unless my brother can somehow recover those files. GAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

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I just had pizza for dinner. Let's hope I don't end up in emerg.

Happy weekend everyone!