The most important job

It was only supposed to be for a couple of years. After all, it had been a long, almost ten year journey to become parents of two. Staying at home with them during the early precious baby years, when I could also cherish quality time with my preschooler boy. It was a no brainer.

Then she was a toddler, with so many things to do, so many programs to experience. With her Mommy.

'Maybe when she's in school', I said to myself.

Now she's in school. And that "couple" of years? Has morphed into over four.

*****

The man's travel for work has picked up again. The last time he came home, he was so happy to see us, and he made a point of giving me an extra bit of TLC (along with the Lady Godivas) by telling me that I'm the one doing the most important job. I'm the parent at home with the kids. He's just bringing home the money.

I appreciated that. I really did. And he's doing a lot more than just that.

So I'm torn.

You see, I've always been a career gal. Even when I was a young girl, I envisioned working full time, outside of the home after I had my family. It was the model I grew up in; it was what I aspired to. Not just a job, but a career, with a path and succession planning. I did it after I had my son. I never even contemplated being a stay-at-home mom. Not until I became pregnant with the girl, and the company situation presented itself. It just made sense NOT to work. The career, in the whole scheme of things, was not as important. And truth be told, there's not much I can complain about this whole at home gig.

I have this colleague, though, who I'll call "headhunter". Who's good at what he does. In fact, he's great. I've used his services over the years and have found great people from him. He keeps tabs on me, he calls me up regularly to get a pulse of where my head is at, if and when I'm planning to hit the career trail again. And up until now, it's been easy to say, "not quite yet; I'm still looking for that work-life balance..." I have been lucky too, that I've had a few work projects over the last couple of years.

But the headhunter has done it now. He's presented me with an interesting opportunity. Close to home, perhaps not as fast-paced as what I'd had before. Something that might be worth investigating, if only to brush up my resume and practice my interview skills.

So my head is spinning. I should just go for the experience, right? There's no pressure, it's not like I'm absolutely needing this job. The scenarios are already flying around in my mind, though, all the "what if's". What if the interview goes well and it's something I might want to jump back into? What if it's such an amazing company and culture that I can't turn away. What if they DON'T want to hire me, what about that?

And what about my kids and their care? They're not ready for me to go back. Would we need a nanny? Am I actually ready to go back; but what if I don't and I wait too long? What about wanting to do my own thing, drumming up more of my own business so I can avoid the daily grind? The appeal of a regular paycheque, of again using my brain, education and experience is there. But then the reality of having to deal with management headaches and potential travel also needs to be factored into the equation. Do I even want to go there?

Hubs thinks I should look into it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He's fine with whatever I want to do.

My head just hurts. This is supposed to be summer vacation isn't it? Why isn't it fun yet?

*****

And here is a pretty song, just because I like it...

Friday Fragments - Pop Culture edition

What a day it was yesterday, and continues to be today. While I was congratulating myself for being so cool as to be "in the know" about two events via twitter before they made official headlines (I'm such a geek that way) ... it really registered as to how historically sad it was.

Farrah Fawcett, an original Charlie's Angel. And then Michael Jackson, the icon. Two celebrities who touched the world. And me.

*****

I was a huge fan of the Six Million Dollar Man when I was a kid. And then when I found out that he was married to this blonde goddess in real life, I was totally awestruck. I'll be honest, Farrah wasn't my favourite angel (Jaclyn Smith was my idol) but I did sketches of the Angels and hung them up on my wall. And I couldn't draw, but I loved them, and the show and what it stood for (three beautiful, smart, female DETECTIVES? Catching bad guys? Wow!).

Sure, they bounced around a bit as they ran around, and were always so cutely flirty chatting with Charlie...but to a young girl, they were certainly something to aspire to. Even a little skinny Chinese girl.

I did feel a bit betrayed after she left the show, but looking back, it was a very strong, gutsy move, made by a strong, gutsy woman. From what I've read about her battle with cancer, she was an inspiration.

*****

Michael Jackson. I still know so many of the lyrics to so many of the songs. From the time I used to watch the Jackson 5 cartoon series on Saturdays mornings .... to the days in the basement when I used to prance around to "Shake your Body to the Ground"... to the "Thriller" album that I won when my Dad spent who knows how much $$ at a Fairweather shopping spree for me and my sister... to the first dance I ever choreographed in high school to "Billie Jean". Watching his videos over and over, jumping up to dance whenever I heard his distinctive voice.

I can't believe he's gone.

*****

I took the kids with me to Dad's grave site, after picking up up some annuals to pay our respects. It's tradition to visit before July 1. And it was the first time I'd been there since the winter.

The foundation for the monument has been set. The site is gorgeous in the summer, with a lovely tree and bench right by. I think Dad must love it, it's beautiful.

I spent a half an hour digging because the spot that my brother had cleared had been re-sodded again for the foundation (unbenownst to us, they just put it in yesterday). Digging with the girlie's garden tools, because that's all I brought (d'oh!).

It was a bit of work, in the hot sun, cutting through the mud and clay. But a labour of love...it was the least I could do ... the flowers make it look so much prettier.

After a quick watering, I took the kids' hands and we stood in front of my Dad's spot. My boy bowed his head and said a private message to his Granddad in his head... and then he shook with sobs. I teared up too. We all miss him so.

So after our traditional three bows toward Dad, we packed it all up and walked back to the car.

Into the shiny weekend that I know my Dad would want us to enjoy.

*****

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

Party, Party, Party

...is what it's been all this last week of school.

The GREAT news...

The little G "commenced" from Junior Kindergarten yesterday.

I almost cried, as she walked up in her gown and cap, her "diploma" outlining her favourite things in kindergarten grasped firmly in her hand.

And then she stood on stage, taking the microphone and reading her four lines about what makes kindergarten special while her beloved kindergarten teacher stood next to her.

Playing with her best friend, playing at recess, and playing with the castle, those are the very best things about kindergarten. Life really is tough with that play policy.

And then they were off to cake and celebrations in the classroom. The kindergarten teacher (a STAR, she was my boy's teacher as well) is off to be a Vice Principal at another school. So it was indeed bittersweet, as she was so instrumental in making my kids' entry into the whole school experience, a wonderful one. Teachers like her are once in a lifetime, and my kids were so lucky. Oh yeah, we were at a farewell party for her end of last week too.

Then we were off again...

to a pool party over at the girlie's best pal's house. In honour of the grad, my friend invited the whole class and parents to the festivities. My boy followed, the hubs followed, and they had us over for dinner. I am in total awe of her.

A whole day of fun and sun, and boy, was it ever HOT! I melted, even though I was under shade most of the time. I'm such a lightweight.

*****

Today is THE last day of school. I pick up the kids at noon, and guess what... ANOTHER grad party. The girl is four years old and already a party animal. It should be interesting when she hits middle school...and then high school. I don't even want to think about university.

The boy laments that his school party consisted of a movie about Mozart in Swedish (they couldn't find an English version) and a continental breakfast. I guess his teacher had a bit more of a charm school bent (what??!!). I would have love that, but for a 9 year old boy whose musical interests currently lie more in the Black Eyed Peas and Lady GaGa direction, not so much.

Too funny.

And on tomorrow's agenda...you guessed it, another party, this one of the birthday variety.

*****

I'm too old for this. I could only handle one Stella yesterday, and I felt wasted.

But whew - I have a new weapon in my arsenal to fight the battle of the sag face: the new Estée Lauder product that I was lucky enough to try and write about over at my review site*. So even though I feel about 80, I'm looking much, much younger than that, thank GAWD!!!

(*check it, there's free stuff coming up for U.S. residents)

Three, Two, One...

Panic!

Geez, summer break starts on Thursday, 12 PM sharp.

And I feel so unprepared.

I don't know what it is; do you just become exhausted after a while and feel 'meh'; let's just let things roll?

I felt a bit of guilt about a month ago when chatting with some other moms while the kids played in the playground after school. A couple of them were talking about how they'd booked their kids' swim lessons for July, and I was like "WHAT??? The registration day was today?!!!"

And of course I was screwed. I'm sitting on two waitlists now for the girl. Thankfully because the boy is in the higher levels (I can't believe, it's like junior lifeguarding levels, what a fish!) he got in okay.

You see, I used to get up at 6:30 AM to sign my son up for his swim lessons, on the very day that online registration opened. And I ALWAYS got a spot. Because even though the system was slow, I was ON THERE, baby, at 7 AM sharp. When you're talking four spots per class in the preschool levels, it's what you have to do.

And I kept this up for the longest time, getting my boy into the lessons pronto, having activities scheduled for most days. Running around with our little baby schlep during pickups and drop-offs.

Now I'm content to let the kids run around the back and play with balls and bubbles. But I feel like a bit of a slacker.

I've tried to tell myself it's not so bad. I USED to be the keen mom. These moms who are signing their kids up so diligently, well their kids are their firstborns, like my boy. It's the girlie for whom I've dropped the ball.

So other than the boy's swim lessons, he's got a week of half day tennis camp, and I've signed the girlie up for a Chinese language playschool. Should be interesting to see how that goes.

And that's it. I'm hoping that will be enough, and that I won't have to endure hours of whining when they're not scheduled.

So what's on your summer agenda?

Photostory and a Father's Friday

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek


So I was tagged by my friend Cid to participate in a photo meme, and I thought it was so fun, that I would share it on my very first Photostory Friday as well. I had to look up my very first file of photos on this computer and find the 10th photo.

And this is what was there, I kid you not, just in time for Father's Day:

See how fuzzy that photo is? We were having problems with our first digital camera, the flash timing was off. But this photo says it all. It was taken during a staycation in the spring break of 2004, before I got pregnant with the girlie. We've always loved to take the kids downtown Toronto, and this time we stayed at the Royal York hotel, brought the boy with us to a fab dinner at Biff's (where he slept the whole time). He wasn't yet four years old. If they were to sit in the same position now, hubs back would be broken, or severely dented. That boy now goes up to my ear and weighs 72 lbs.

And look at the man, with his beer. What more could a guy want, a great pint of brew, and his little boy on his lap. Turned out that Remy's in Yorkville, the place where we'd occasionally go as singletons, was growing up a bit too. Quite family friendly.

For this photo meme I tag the following blog buddies...

Tooj
Kami
Tara
Louann
Heidi

*****

I wish I weren't so organized sometimes:

I found this card last year for the kids to give to Dad this year. I had two cards, because this one was so perfect I had to get it as well. He would have loved it.

Mom is going on a trip up north for the weekend with friends. I am very happy for her. The little brother and wife are going to a wedding tomorrow so we've got my cutie niece for a sleepover. My sister and her family are off to their weekend retreat.

How I wish we were all together again like we were last year. And not scattered, as we try to avoid yet another family gathering, where the grief and sorrow of missing him is just too much for us to bear.

How I wish.

Coming out and the world not imploding

So how many of you have told your "real life" friends and family about this interesting hobby called blogging?

I know I've blogged about this before, this strange "fear" I have of being found out as a blogger. It's a bizarre passive/aggressive relationship I have with the web. Hence my reluctance to get all "blogfaced" on my Facebook page as I started that with IRL contacts only. And geez, now there is Twitter. So all of a sudden I'm on this social-networking wave that I unknowingly surfed onto.

My immediate family know about this place, as do my sisters-in-law, a couple friends here and afar, and at least one parent in my kids' school crowd (you might remember her when she was in Norway). Strangely enough, though, only a couple of the people "in the know" actually follow my blog. Or perhaps not so strangely. They're probably just not interested.

Well I guess they just don't know how great it is over here, do they?

All kidding aside, I decided I would let some others in on my secret. To a select few, of course. To lift the weight of the heavy burden of this secret identity.

A couple of weeks ago I got together with a group of friends that I have known for over 10 years now. TEN years. I don't know how that flew by. We became close as we suffered through and survived three years of MBA classes while working full-time. I got pregnant and had baby number one during my last year, so they really carried me for a few months while I was in new mama territory. We got super close as they watched me nurse and type at the same time. How could we not stay in touch after bonding on that level? We still try to get together a couple of times a year, to get caught up.

We were reminiscing about the program, and one of them said, "Yeah, Karen, you were always so good at the writing thing. We would be looking for the right wording, you'd go type away on the laptop and come back with something just like that! "

And then my other classmate piped in, "You really should write a book, or do something with that!"

My other buddy, who also loves to write (and was critiqued by a prof, who said his writing was "breezy" like a magazine article, whatever that meant) is still hoping to write a book one day. He mentioned that he still keeps a small journal with him at all times, to capture snippets for this book.

I told him he should blog. Like I do.

And then I expected the earth to suck me in through the floor of the restaurant.

But it didn't happen. Then I went further.

"Yeah. I'm a blogger. And I'm actually going to a hold me while I get shit-faced drunk and party with my homies blogging convention in July."

The reaction around the table was bemused acknowledgement. Someone asked whether I'm on twitter. And of course I said yes. The others looked at me like I was from another planet.

And that was IT folks. They didn't ask me for my url, they didn't ask what I blog about ... nada.

To be honest, I was rather relieved. I guess I'm just one overly nosy person, because if someone told me they blogged, I'd be all over it.

But that's just me.

*****

Over coffee with another mom friend, who I have become quite close to this last year as their whole family was so supportive during that whole nightmare with Dad... I decided to spill it again. Can't shut me up once I'm on a roll, I guess.

We were talking about summer plans and I mentioned that I was going to Chicago with me, myself and I. She thought that was great, and asked what it was for.

So I told her... I'm a blogger. I said I blogged about my life, my kids, and not about her. She smiled, thought it was great. It hasn't come up again in conversation.

And again, that was it. I guess I just did blog about her. Oh well.

*****

So now I can just carry on. In fact, perhaps I'll REALLY let 'er rip now.

Weekly Winners -I can't work this thing

The husband took my smaller Powershot with him on his trip to Copenhagen, and was so busy he had time to take but one photo. And it was raining all week.

But he did leave me his Canon Rebel SLR to use for photos, and it scared me.

So I didn't take any photos until yesterday, after he got back, when I realized that I needed to take a better shot of my boy for some cards that I'm making to take to BlogHer.

Neat camera, though.







I guess the hubs really does love me though cuz he bought me these...

(they're now hidden though, these Lady G's are MINE, MINE, all MINE!!!)

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

Friday Fragments: Don't you just love it edition...

Don't you just love it when...

- your daughter's best friend comes over for a playdate and somehow runs his face into the peeling trunk of your possibly diseased tree?

- your son grabs a door frame at school, splits his nail and thumb open (according to his telephone call and the explanation by his teacher), calls you 3 hours after it happens ... you call the doctor to make an appointment in case the boy develops gangrene, you bring the boy home, he passes out (in sleep); you wake him up and get to the doctor's office where he peels his bandage open and ... NOTHING? The doctor even takes out his ear-checker thing -a-ma-bob to magnify it and cannot find the wound. Guess the principal did a good job cleaning and sealing it. Nevertheless, the boy wants out of school for the rest of the year because he can no longer write. How convenient.

- you realize that you're behind on your kid's annual checkups so the boy has his since we're at the office... and it sinks in that your girlie will need a needle at hers. Oh fun.

- your daughter has a hissy fit at her best friend's house because he got TWO caterpillars and a cocoon while she only got one caterpillar and chrysalis. She doesn't understand that it's nicer that only one will die on our watch. Welcome to Catty II, to replace Catty I.

- you print out 200 photos from Costco because you save 5 cents each and it only covers six months worth of our happy, happy 2008; and then you realize that you don't have the photo albums to put them in... you do research to make a photobook for your husband's colleague as she's moving to Europe and you realize ... DAMN! You could be making photobooks with full commentary instead of kicking it old, old, old school.

- you need a new bathing suit and prepare to go bathing suit shopping ...and your son tells you that you should probably get back to the gym before, because apparently that's the natural order. Ouch, how'd I get such a smartie? So we're going to McDonald's for lunch instead.

- your head wants to go back to the gym, but your heart isn't into it, probably because it doesn't want to work.

- your husband is in Copenhagan for the week, his Blackberry and computer are not functioning, so even if he did have Skype it wouldn't have worked...and he only manages to call a couple of times the first of which we miss because I am screaming at the kids to quit fooling around and get into bed. But the first words he says when he connects are "I love you and miss you". Smart man.

Cannot wait for tomorrow at 5 PM.

Happy weekend, friends!

*****

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

Always be my baby

As I was helping my little girl dress for school this morning, she asked me,

"Mommy, did I drool like a dog when I was sleeping?"

And I answered her truthfully.

"You did drool, but it wasn't exactly like a dog."

"Why do animals drool, Mommy?".

"Well, they do sometimes when they're hot, or when they're excited or ready for food."

"But I'm not a dog."

"No, you're not a dog. But humans drool sometimes too. Like babies. They drool when they're teething."

"Oh. So THAT'S why. Because I'm your baby, right Mama?" as she giggled and snuggled into me.

I melted.

"Yup. You're exactly right. You'll always be my baby.", I whispered in her ear as I squeezed her right back.

*****

In the day to day, it's not always top of mind what miracles my kids are. They're great kids, but they still know how to get my goat. But it is always with me, that without help, we may never have had our babies.

And I'll get the occasional nudge when I find out that, yeah, some of the hopeful baby vibes that I've sent out over the internet, do make their mark.

Congrats to my friend Xbox and his wife ET. He was the one who inspired me to open up on my blog about our infertility struggles. And I'd like to think that I was able to give them some hope on their own journey.

Looks like he'll have to switch subject matters now. I can't wait to read his take on the wonders of being expectant parents. Should be a wild nine months!

Wordless Wednesday - Mraz much?

For more Wordless check it out here and here.

Know Your Enemy

"I decided to pass, Mom.", my boy said to me this morning, during our morning pre-get-out-of-bed period, before the little sister got up to create some drama for the day.

He had come home the other day mentioning that he was picked by his teacher to talk about what integrity was, and to do this with his friend Sally in front of his school. I was pumped for him, what mother wouldn't be? I told him he should be proud of the fact that his teacher selected him, and that she obviously thought he could perform well.

He was given a couple days to think about it, and I had tried to instill some confidence in him that he could do it. I guess I failed. He'd let the butterflies get the better of him and gave the task to another friend.

"Oh. When is the assembly?"

"It's later today in 5th period. I felt too nervous, though, and Mrs. Smith said it was okay."

"Well, I think you could have done it, you're so good at speaking, and you're a natural."

"But Mom, this would have been in front of the WHOLE SCHOOL. I could have handled it if it was just primary. But I would have had to say it in front of the primary, intermediate AND SENIORS! Mrs. Smith said it was fine; she said she was so nervous when she first started as a teacher she could barely face her first day in class. So I feel okay about it."

I suppose speaking in front of over 800 people would be intimidating. Even if he imagined they were all in their underwear. That made him laugh. How could he concentrate on his speech about integrity if he pictured everyone in their skivvies?

I had resisted the urge to do the mom pressure tactic, to push him to "seize the opportunity to shine."Something that is just inbred, I suppose. I remember being under the gun myself when I was just a little older than my boy, preparing my first speech with cue cards. The old tape recorder was turned on, and I was recorded by my mom, and my dad, as they coached me to remember each and every word, to speak with expression and enthusiasm. They knew I could do it too, but it doesn't mean that I wasn't shitting nickels the whole time I was performing.

But my boy's not comfortable with it this time. So I am fine with it.

It's not an earth-shattering opportunity. He would have shone like the beacon that he is. I'll just remain quietly proud of him. He'll gain more confidence. There will be other moments.

*****

Public speaking. It's probably a number one fear on most every list out there. Don't know what it is about that.

Why do we fear this? Why do we let our insecurities get the better of us? I'm probably the most guilty of that myself.

My own worst enemy.

Call it analysis paralysis. Afraid of failure.

So I did something a little earlier this year.

Y'all know that I'm going to BlogHer. Well, they have this thing called a community keynote. They'll choose from several hundreds of submissions and offer the chance to some bloggers to share their favourite posts. In front of, what, over 1,000 people?

I told my boy that I had made a couple of submissions. (Did not share that I was shitting nickels while I hit "send").

And that if Mommy were really, really lucky, she might even get chosen (super long shot, I know, but I was trying to make a lesson out of this). To be asked to speak in front of 1,000 people. Actually, to have ASKED to speak in front of 1,000, of my own volition.

And that if it happened, I would do it. I would also probably cry.

He was awestruck. And he's confident that I'll be picked (he's so sweet that way).

I don't know about that.

But there's a part of me that's hoping that I just might feel the need to wear special skivvies in six weeks' time.

You know, to catch those nickels.

*****


(Bought the CD. Can you say "Rock Opera". LOVE it.)

Weekly Winners - While mama's away...

Not too many this week. And I'm dealing with a cold that will likely last forever (when it hits me, it hits good).

But hey, I got to the ballet last week. And while I was there...

Daddy's girl at the farm...

The kids got "UP'd" in 3-D

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

Living the dream

My eyes followed the beautiful ballerina as her seemingly weightless body floated across the stage, her tiny feet barely touching the ground. The emotion on her face matching the rich passion in her movements. I was utterly captivated.

Then the men took their turns, leaping, spinning, throwing themselves into the air with such strength and precision and mastery. It gave me goosebumps.

I had forgotten how much I loved the ballet. I had forgotten how I had longed to be a dancer, so many, many years ago.

I was touched somewhere in the depths of my heart, in the place where we hold special dreams.

I was eight years old again, dreaming the dream.

The final chords swelled from the orchestra. The principal dancer walked slowly forward, holding the precious flower in his hand, the look of such loving despair on his face.

"Giselle" was over.

I leapt to my feet, tears in my eyes, my hands clapping in unison with the thundering applause around me. And a feeling of sheer joy gripped me, knowing that I had just witnessed a magical, historical performance.

****

My sister took me and my mother to the ballet on Sunday. It was my birthday present (from October) and my mother's birthday weekend. And unbeknownst to us at the time that we booked the tickets, it was to be the very last performance of Chan Hon Goh, as principal dancer of the National Ballet of Canada. She has been somewhat of a living legend, well known for her beauty, strength and talent. After 20 years with the company, she has retired. At the age of 40, she has decided to shift her career and spend more time with her family.

When she came back on stage with the rest of the dancers, all eyes were upon her. Bouquets were thrown on the stage, several of her principal dancer colleagues came up her, each presenting a single rose, other famous National Ballet alumni came on stage (ie. Rex Harrington, Karen Kain...), her parents, and finally her husband and young son.

The crowd went wild as a shower of red balloons rained on the dancers.

And her little son, whose hand had been clasped by his beautiful dancer mother, broke away to kick through the round balls of fun. He grabbed a couple and threw them up in the air with glee.

Rounds of laughter arose from the audience and the stage.

A moving, perfect moment.

*****

"Mommy, how do dreams come true?" asked my little girl as I drove her and her brother home from the library the other afternoon.

"Well, sometimes dreams take a lot of hard work and a little bit of luck, but if it's something you really want to do, you just keep at it. Mommy and Daddy will help you get where you want to get, but it's something you really have to want for yourself."

As I said this, I remembered how badly I had wanted to be a ballerina. But when it came time to step it up a bit and commit to training three times week, I was already spread so thin with lessons and school. My mother gave me a choice. To continue with ballet, knowing that despite my teacher's suggestion, I likely wasn't good enough to make it as a professional; or go with the music lessons and embrace something that wouldn't be so limited.

So at the age of 11, I gave up my first real "dream".

Fast forward over 30 years. After the practical route gave me my first experience with entrepreneurship (teaching piano while in highschool); after continuing with dance as a hobby, but opening up to other possibilities in school and career ... I come to my life as it is now.

Ten years ago I was struggling with infertility, wondering whether I would ever be a mother.

Another dream that I wasn't sure would ever be fulfilled. But I wasn't going to let this one go so easily.

So thankfully this dream did and is still, coming true.

*****

Back in the minivan...

"So sweetie, what is your dream?" I asked.

"I want to be Hannah Montana when I grow up!"

And her big brother piped in,"Well, G, if you really want it, you should sing some more, and then Mommy and Daddy can get you into lessons. Then you can practice, try out for shows, there are so many ways for you to get there..."

He didn't mention that she'd also have to dye her hair blonde and pick up a Southern drawl.

But that's okay.

After all, it's her dream and if she'll stick with it, we'll be there for her.

Wordless Wednesday - "UP, yo.."

For more Wordless check it out here and here.

(Yeah, they kinda liked the movie)