The Good Husband

The Man had a birthday last weekend. It wasn't a milestone, it wasn't a particularly special year. But it was a good birthday, because he was actually here to celebrate it with us.

He doesn't ask for much. In fact, he asks for nothing. Nothing except the love of his family.

And more patience from his wife.So these are trying times for him.

He gives so much. Sure, I have to remind him a lot to get things done, but he is a Man.

Guess what he did for me when I got home from my trip?

After a week alone with the kids, during which time in his laid back style he kept the household intact, and even managed to get the kiddos to the schoolbus on time on the Monday after he slept in until 8:16 (bus comes at 8:35)...

...he made an appointment for my van, took it to be serviced and had my snow tires put on. Totally unsolicited effort. It snowed like the Dickens the next day. I am convinced he's Superman (well, at least Kreskin, but Superman is way hotter...)

So I'm glad that I picked him up a few things for his birthday:



Thank goodness for duty-free.

Friday Fragments - Simple Things

Don't forget to check out the home of glorious Fragments( Mrs. 4444)

*****
Well that was certainly cathartic.

The boy's face is fine. He's all smiles again, with a bit of a shiner and a story to share.

Today is another day. Let's celebrate the simple things.

*****

I noticed something the other day. Something quite wonderful.

My daughter doesn't just walk. She skips - everywhere.

Oh, the pure joy of being a happy 5-year old little girl.

*****

Speaking of stories, the one thing that I look forward to when my husband comes home from his work trips, (other than seeing him, of course) is the colourful tales he has to share about his adventures.

After boarding his flight last Friday, and getting settled into his seat, he noticed this odour in the cabin. The odour of someone who'd had beans or something unsettling for breakfast, apparently. The passenger in front of him turned to his wife and made a grimace that showed his displeasure of the stink as well. My husband just tucked his nose subtly into his elbow as his defense mechanism.

You would think that would be the end of it, after all, one expects some level of dissipation at some point.

However, throughout the rest of the flight, the smell was relentless. The wife of the passenger in front even took out a small spray bottle of perfume/deodorizer and gave it a couple of pumps. My husband kept his elbow close.

After the plane landed, the pilot announced: "Welcome to lovely Chicago, folks"...

and the fellow in front of my husband piped in "... and whoever has been shitting their pants the whole flight, let's have another just for good measure."

My husband could barely contain the guffaws. Even while telling me the story.

****

Colourful number 2:...

After the man had settled into his hotel, he headed over to the convention centre to check things out. He looked to his phone, to see if there were any messages any of his colleagues. On his Blackberry screen he saw a trail from one of the guys from his office, and decided to continue the text conversation (in blue below):

Hi, you all settled in?

Yeah.

So do you want to meet for dinner?

Actually, I'm meeting some friends for dinner later on.

So do you want to meet for a drink before, maybe?

No, I'm running a bit short on time.

And then he noticed this colleague way over on the other side of the auditorium...

Hey, I see you over there, don't want to shout across the room...

No, you don't see me.

Yes, I do.

I'm in my workout gear in the gym at the hotel.

No, you're not. Is this Mike?

No, this is Jane.

JANE, his FEMALE colleague from the U.S. office.

Oh my frickin' gawd. She probably thought this guy was going middle-aged conference crazy. My man, he's smooth, isn't he?

****

The girlie promptly had a tea party with her Daddy last night, just before bed. And she brought it over and shared it with me as well.

I don't really play with my kids. I just realized this - I shop for them, I feed them, I bathe and I clothe them, I talk with them... but I don't play with them a heck of a lot.

But my husband does.

So I've resolved that I need to make the time to play.

Simple things. Wonderful things.

Let's play.

17 is a very good year: an anniversary post

Well we made short work of that last night, didn't we?

****

After a lovely anniversary dinner where the girlie only acted up mildly (obviously no nap earlier in the day), we came home and celebrated with a bottle of bubbly while watching Man Vs. Wild with the boy.

It was lovely, really. Because it's what marriage is all about.

(That was then...)

****

As I managed a two week holiday this past month, I'm still trying to get through the dozen or so magazines that I purchased for my downtime. A very timely read for me yesterday was this article I found in Elle, "Till Whatever Do Us Part". I don't know if I was just totally primed for it (hello, anniversary) or if indeed it was one of the best articles about marriage that I had read in a while.

It got me thinking about why our marriage works. So here are 17 reasons why I think we're still going strong:

1/ He knows that my shopping addiction will never go away, and he'll even $upport it from time to time.

2/ He thinks I'm cute.

3/ We laugh about stupid things that no one else gets.

4/ We survived unexplained infertility and made a couple of miracles:



5/ He only borrows my make-up occasionally.


6/ He makes awesome Grey Goose martinis.

7/ We designed and did our own contracting for the following and our relationship remained intact:



8/ He helped me find a career and pushed me to re-charge it 12 years later.

9/ He held me up during the lowest point in my life ... and made me stronger.

10/ He encourages my writing on the blog even if it's taken over my life the odd time.

11/ We respect that we each have a life of our own. We support each others' "nights out" with the girls and boys.

12/ I think he's cute.

13/ The sex is still pretty good when we find the time for it. Still???? You bet, just don't tell the kids.

14/ I'm type A++++ and he's not.

15/ He knows me, he really knows me and still...

16/ He loves me and,

17/ I love him.

(This is now...)

Friday Fragments - Hats, Lies and Packing Tape

You can always tell when me or my hubs are having a bad hair day. We wear hats.

Hubby came back from a recent trip to Prague with one of these:

I sent him on a milk run this morning (because we ran out of milk - this week he's off at home with the kids on spring break, living a bit of the dream that I lived for 5 years but forgetting the grocery shopping part...). I dared him and he did it - yes, he wore the hat!

A couple of people looked at him, made quick eye contact, and then looked away very quickly. He wouldn't let me take a photo of him, darn.

*****

I'm trying to get the house in order before I head out for another work trip this weekend. So in the past few days I've been ordering people (ie. my husband) around like a drill sergeant. My son has been asking for a room without a train border since the beginning of the school year. We'd promised we'd get to it done over Christmas; then over spring break- which is NOW. I don't want the poor kid to wait until he goes off to university. So I've been taking things apart, packing things up and barking orders like it's the end of the world. Or at least moving the world. (In actual fact, moving the boy into the existing guest/junk room, and the guest room furniture into his ...).

From IKEA land, we ordered the MALM bed and dresser for his big boy room ... along with the most comfortable mattress ever. It was delivered last night, and by all counts, he will never have to buy another bed again. He couldn't even wait for the bed to be up - he just slept on the mattress.

While I was at the office today, the man called me to say that none of the hardware had come with the furniture and he'd have to go back to IKEA. I asked him to doublecheck, because those items get hidden sometimes in all the packaging. He said he already had, triple-checked through all of the boxes, but I told him I'd look when I got home.

So I got home and went to the first box - and found the hardware in half a second.

Let's say it together... MAN SEARCH.

The bed goes up hopefully tonight.

*****

As an icebreaker at the meeting next week, we'll be playing the truth/false statement game. Not my idea this time, because I've got to think about some more.

Let's see how well you know me - two of these are false, two are true (I know at least one reader who will see a lie):

1. I won first prize for a piece I wrote for a Young Creative Writers contest in 6th grade.

2. I have an obsession with hats which started in high school. I now have 278 in my collection (that's a lotta bad hair days).

3. One of the best sushi meals I ever had was prepared for me by Olivia Chow and served to me by Jack Layton.

4. I passed out at an Iggy Pop concert.

Happy weekend friends!

Do you remember...

Just slippin' in under the wire, but I'm here! Please visit my blog gal pal Mrs. 4444 at the home of Friday Fragments.

*****

Well you know that I've been totally crushing on some young men lately - I should know better, but maybe that's what happens as you get older. The fact that I've convinced myself that my husband has an even slight resemblance to one of the hottest young actors around right now, has certainly proven that I'm living in my own fantasy version of reality.

*****

I don't know if you've heard the latest frothy dance tune from Jay Sean, but it has a distinctly reggae dance-hall influence due to the contribution of Sean Paul. I'm not one to really analyze lyrics, especially many of those from today's songs ("Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" it ain't...)

But listening to the catchy tune...

"I’ve been thinking about you
And how we used to be then
Back when we didn’t have to end we could start again"

I can't help but think of the trips that we used to take as a couple before we had kids. Fun in the sun and more fun ...just the two of us. See this? This was our first trip together about 20 years ago.


And with the advent of the kids, that part of our life did end.

*****

Last weekend the husband got this mad urge to go shopping for clothes. For himself- can you believe it? He needed a nice wool coat, and new dress pants. And he wanted my input. Of course I was only too happy to oblige. After all, my husband hates to shop, and I have what you might call a shopping "problem". To give you some perspective, he actually wore a pair of pants to work with pleats in them - they were nice pants, Hugo Boss, but shall we classify them as "vintage" as in he looked quite at home doing the "Can't touch this" dance down the hall. A colleague got the period bang -on as he pinned them as circa 1995. Carbon dated it. Yes, it's been a couple years since he's bought himself a really nice suit.

So off we went, with kids in tow. We put ourselves in the hands of a true professional salesman. He had the man try on a couple of nice wool coats. The first coat fit like a dream and the man didn't want to take it off. He did look great in it. The second one he tried on had a Euro look which brought to mind Chris Martin. Now that's more like it. They didn't have his size though.

Then he brought us over to the suit section.

Shall we say that Hugo Boss has certainly improved in 2010? Uh, YEAH.

The man slipped on a three piece charcoal number, broad shoulders, straight slim legs, no pleats in sight...he looked seriously hot. At one point I thought I could have merrily had my way with him... well, if it weren't for our kids who were using the stroller and the comfy leather club chairs to build a fort and the salesguy who would have been there to bear witness to some middle-aged crazy.

You see, the man, he still has that effect on me. Even when we're bone tired, stressed to the max with the jobs, the day to day of getting the kids into their routines ... there's still that spark even if we're too exhausted to do much about it most of the time.

But maybe that's the secret to the success of our relationship.

Our ability to remember what we were like, what we had, and to know that we've still got it.

"do you remember
All of the times we had
Let’s bring it back "

A Year in the Life of ...

So I stumbled on a wonderful idea by way of the brilliant Scary Mommy (who is not so scary in real life, in fact, she's a sweetheart)!

As we wind down the decade, why don't we look back at 2009, from my blog-eyed view? To say 2009 was a most eventful one, with the highest of highs, and the low, lowest of the lows would be a massive understatement. These aren't necessarily my best posts ever, but they do sum up the year for me.

Here we go:

January: Possibly the worst month of my life. Oh I know, a bit dramatic, but this was the month that I sprained my knee and had to do the helpless "damsel in distress thing" with ski patrol; suffered my second gall bladder attack (on purpose, because it was cheesecake and I deserved it because it had been such a shitty start to the year)...and lost my beloved Dad.

But at least I was able to pay tribute to him publicly without losing it: A Tribute to the most wonderful man.

February: Still in grief mode. But this is one of my favourite posts ever. It's why I'm here: Lucky.

March: I hit my 500th post this month. So I did the whole Q & A thing, which ate up several posts. I also participated in the ultimate blog party. "Everything you ever wanted to know about me" is another title for March 2009. However, I'll have to link to this post, because there are some awfully precious moments in life, and I'm so mature that way: AKA the converter.

April: My boy turned 9. And this post was my favourite of the month, because it just warms a mother's heart: Brothers and Sisters

May: Wow, this was the month of my bitch-rant! And I did get a whole lotta sympathy: Gimme Sympathy.

June: I came out to some Real Life friends about this ole' blog here...and also the answer to my May problems was starting to come to light. Coming out and the world not imploding; and the most important job.

July: Two syllables, one word. BlogHer. (Two days in the life, a few bottles at a time...) And here's further evidence:

(That's me with Courtney, Mrs. 4444 and Melissa)

I miss my party girls.

August: Thank goodness for my pal Mrs. 4444 and her Friday Fragments. The summer of my big life decisions was summed up on several Fridays. My anniversary was in there too, But here are my scattered thoughts which accurately describe my August, as I grappled with the whole SAHM versus Career Woman life shift - a pictorial as to why I suck as a crafty SAHM -see Barbie Exhibit A.

September: The leap back into the work force. Ready or not.

October: It was my birthday month. And I don't mind linking to pictures of me when I was much cuter: Birf-day girl.

November: I don't blog about the Man much, but sometimes I just have to. Especially my superior wife moments: We interrupt this blog post...

December: Well, after a rough year, I need a new one. This is a tired post, but the kids bring out the spirit of the holidays just when you need it. Elyse Mommy Da

*****

Wishing you all a fantastic, happy and healthy 2010!!!

We interrupt this blog post ...

for some must-bloggable moments.

I know I had promised a post related to Michael Jackson, but that will wait a bit. I just had to capture these rambling Thursday thoughts as they come to me. I can't hold them until Friday. Hmmm, maybe it's time for a Friday footwear post. Anyhoo...

The man had taken Tuesday off to be with the kids while they recover from the flu. Of course, just as I expected, he got absolutely nothing done. I suppose they've been used to me being around, so when I was working from home on Monday, I actually got some work done. But with their Dad, it was different. They were all over him.

So this morning, as we were running around getting ourselves and the kids ready, and the man says to me: "Hey, I'm looking for that really nice checked shirt that you got for me, the one with the French cuffs, have you seen it?"

And I replied, "Yeah, it's on the floor in that pile next to your side of the bed".

"No it's not, I looked."

I promptly went over and pulled the shirt from on top of the pile next to his side of the bed and handed it to him. Man search. Grrrrr. Let's call that superior wife moment #1.

Next, we went down to the kitchen. I was so exhausted on Tuesday night that I didn't have the energy to put the coffee maker and timer on. So this next morning, I put enough coffee in for a cup each, and turned the maker on, while I went to get the kids' schoolbags and lunches ready. Then I hear from the kitchen: "How much coffee did you make there, look at it!" and I ran back into the kitchen to see the pot almost completely full.

What?!

I swore I only put enough water in for a couple of cups; so I pontificated...:

"Hmm, that's weird. I'm positive that I only scooped a few spoonfuls and poured enough for two cups. I wonder if I poured some last night and forgot... or maybe I did set it for more... geez, that's really bizarre, but, hey, do you think that maybe YOU might have poured the water and forgot to make some yesterday ... well, probably not, you would have had to have been pretty darn out of it "...

... while the husband was shaking his head, no, it wasn't him. No it wasn't him. But he remained mostly conspicuously quiet.

And then as I went to pour the coffee, or rather, brown water out, he conceded with a hearty laugh, "Yeah, it WAS me!". Superior wife moment #2.

*****

The hubs is a huge fan of Howard Stern, and Howard had the comic, Dane Cook, on his show. The hubs thought he was pretty hilarious, and when he googled him he found a picture of Dane Cook's girlfriend and thought she was pretty hot.

So I countered, 'Well, Dane Cook is a pretty good looking guy himself. Interesting how that is, though. I find with funny guys, I have to think twice about them being good looking; somehow the humour makes me think of them less as sex symbols, I guess. Don't you think?"



Hubs: "Yeah, I have that problem. I mean, most of the time I'm just too darn funny, yup, yeah, that's a big issue for me."

And I countered by laughing hysterically. Maybe laughing a bit too hard.

Love and marriage.

The Date and not Hungover*

Our anniversary dinner date was lovely.

The man had hired a car, so we wouldn't have to worry about driving. We left the kids in the capable hands of my mother, who was staying overnight. And even better, my sister, her husband and my cutesie niece came up to have dinner and a visit with them. When we headed out the door, only my sister was there to wish us a good evening. The kids were already off partying. Signs of things to come, I suppose.

Le Select Bistro was a great spot. The decor and ambiance was very much that of a Parisian bistro, and even better...no attitude from the waiter. (Okay, I know I'm stereotyping here, but I've had first hand experience of seeing a server get upset at a colleague because HE had heard the order wrong and brought back a sandwich without ham...another story for another day...).

So where were we...oh yeah, back at the bistro...

A beer for the gentleman and a lychee martini for the lady please. Very nice.

Puff pastry appetizers (escargot of course), lamb and slow cooked beef short-ribs entrees and a lovely bottle of wine from one of the hugest wine cellars I have seen in a restaurant. Wonderful, knowledgeable service amidst the quiet buzz of many a customer having a fine dining experience.

We didn't set the place on fire this time. At least not with actual flames.

After dinner, we walked up Spadina Ave. to Queen Street to enjoy some cocktails on the patio of the Rivoli. Quite a different scene. It was funny because this was just a couple doors over from the original site of Le Select, before it moved to its new location three years ago.

We ordered a couple of G & T's, and set about people watching while we sat amongst a patio of Queen Street hipsters. We've brought the kids down here many times, but hadn't had the opportunity to enjoy the vibe at night just by ourselves in a very long time.

I laughed about the henna tattoo I got a lifetime ago at the neighbouring Le Chateau ... we watched with interest as gaggles of young women walked by wearing sky-high stilettos and skirts barely covering their arses...a family walked by, with Mom pushing the stroller while Dad wore baby and they all wore matching afros ... we got annoyed as the groups of smokers outside of the restaurant hovered in front of us ... the signs from the huge H & M across the street were a bright reminder that indeed, this Queen Street was not the same that we had frequented as students. We noticed the students in their ripped jeans, slouchy hats with their carefree attitudes and we talked about whether we wished to be them again. So much has changed in 16 years.

We got caught up. Turns out there wasn't too much catching up to do. After all these years, we're still in tune with each other. Which in all honesty, was the most beautiful part of the whole evening.

*****

The boys went to see GI Joe the next day. A solid nine out of ten is what the boy rated the movie. What was the story about? He didn't really know, but it didn't matter. Action, it's all about the action, Mom.

The man brought home Famous Magazine and said: "Do you think I look like him*? A little? He's your type isn't he, fair, light eyes..."



I replied, "Actually, he does kind of look like you. Like 15 years ago..."

And so I checked. And he did. Sorta.


Lucky me.

(In more ways than one obviously. I finally got rid of that "Gilligan borrowed John Lennon's glasses and traded in the sailor shirt for a beater" look. Thank gawd.)

*I have yet to see the Hangover, but I hear it's hilarious. In the most immature way, I'm sure, but who ever said I was overly mature?

*****
Musical memory, here's one of our fave songs of 1993...

Isn't it ironic?

The husband has been overly tired lately.

Oh, it could be the weather,

or the fact that he's getting back into the swing of things after being out the office for three weeks,

or the fact that he's the father of two young children and he's got a spouse who's going through some career/mid-life crises the magnitude of which threaten to get even bigger,

or maybe he's not getting enough sleep.

"I wonder if I'm having sleep issues because of sleep apnea. Do I snore?"

If you're said husband's mid-life-crisising conflicted spouse, you should know better than to say,

"Well, you don't really, at least not in a long while."

Because should you reply in that manner, be prepared to be serenaded by the rumblings of successive oncoming trains at 4:00 AM.

Just sayin'.

Soggy Saturday Morning and posting about hawt

There you go, SEO types, what a perfect title.

Well, people don't read blogs on Saturdays anyway.

First of all, thanks to all my beloved bloggy peeps for your words of encouragement. I actually spruced up my C.V., attached it to my e:mail and hit "send" to my friend the Head Hunter (let's call him, H.H; I know the term these days is "recruiter" but, the girlie's been watching Madagascar 2 about 25 times non-stop in the last couple of days, and that resounding tribal beat, you know... and besides, I'm old, so we'll use H.H.)

As I was saying in my previous post, about my lack of walking-in-heels-prowess... I met with H.H. this past week. I think I'd mentioned that I've "known" him for over 10 years, actually contacted him wayyyyyy back when I was trying to break into the field. He didn't have any jobs for me then, but he had some great advice. And after I did eventually get into industry, I would chat with him from time to time about hiring etc. But I've never met him face to face. And never really thought about what he might look like.

I remember in my last job, I was working with our HR manager and she asked me if I had ever met H.H. And I said, no, I hadn't. She suggested I should, because uh, he was pretty good looking. He was actually a gymnast when he was younger. I was surprised, we laughed about it a bit, because whenever I've talked with him the image in my mind has been of a science geeky type, as his voice is a little squeaky. I don't know how else to describe it.

Since I've been home with the kids, he's followed up with me from time to time. And I've contemplated finally meeting him, just for coffee etc, as suggested by my husband. After all, it's always good to keep your foot at least partway through the door, and this fellow's quite connected. If I ever want to launch back in, this is a good guy to know.

I got to his office, parked in the concrete jungle and couldn't figure out which entrance was the right one...hence my poor toesies, as I did a bit more walking than I had intended. Finally finding the building and floor, I popped into the washroom, as I always do before meeting, just to check on the face shine, for any last minute stuff between the teeth etc... I wasn't really nervous because it wasn't an interview. Just a chat to find out about an opportunity, and to finally meet in person. Still, it felt weird to be in a corporate environment again.

I walked out into the hall, just as this fellow was stepping out of the men's washroom, and he looked at me and said, "Karen?" just as I uttered "H.H.?".... while sucking in my breath and totally not believing how incredibly fine he was, and OMG, he was wearing a great casual outfit, blue long sleeve fitted -tee with khaki pants, and yes, he looks like he was indeed a gymnast... stop salivating, Karen!

All kidding (well, not entirely) aside, we had a great meeting, talking about my career, what I wanted in my work life, what opportunities he had... the usual stuff. I was there for over an hour, but had to leave to get the kids. Yes, the kids, yeah, them ;). Yes, married with kids. Well, both of us, very happily at that.

We'll see where this all goes (the job thing, I mean) but it felt good to be talking about work again, my accomplishments, and not so much about being a Mom. I love being a Mom, but there's the other part of me that's taken a back seat. I said as much to him, that I don't want all the years of education, training, experience, my skill set and the career that I built to be wasted after working so hard for it. And I remain conflicted.

I got home and here's my little e:mail exchange with the husband:

Me: "BTW, met with H.H. today. He's quite hawt. Hurry home."

Hubs: "See-i toLd you it would be worthwhile mtg him."

Me: "You know, if we weren't already married, I'd sooooo have an internet affair with you ;). "

We're demented, I know.

Happy weekend!

Type A much?

I contemplated accompanying hubs on his most recent trip for business. I initially jumped all over it because he actually asked if I wanted to go (the opportunity doesn't come that often because of all the work he's got to do, and he's not always comfortable with the optics. But I take my lead from him).

But with BlogHer coming up, and our family vacay ... and the fact that I didn't think the kids would appreciate spending the week doing workbooks at Grandma's (she runs a really tight curriculum, especially during summer holidays)... I thought better of it.

And the hubs is apparently relieved with my decision too.

I got the following message this morning, letting me know that after having to switch planes he finally got there:

"Arrived safely-waiting in a ridiculously long customs line.....its times like these I am glad you aren't here :) not bc I don't love you but I don't miss a play by play account on the delay..."

Know me much?

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.

Moobage?

Little G has been growing into a very girlie girl lately, and she was watching me with interest as I got dressed the other morning.

I had stopped by La Senza a little while ago and brought home a couple of pretty bras as pick-me-ups for spring. Little G picked out the orange and pink polka-dotted number with the pretty frills for me to wear. (The more frills the merrier when you're a sporting the equivalent of terrain of the Prairies as your boobage).

"Mommy, why do you wear a bra?", she asked.

"Well, because Mommy doesn't want to walk around just, well, hanging as it doesn't look so neat and tidy. It looks and feels better under my tops and T-shirts when I wear a bra."

Whew, was that a good answer?

Not that I have much to hang about. In actual fact I didn't want to admit that it was part of my optical illusion to make it look like I have something up there. I don't want to get into that whole body image discussion with her just yet. Hopefully the lack o' rack that her mom inherited will bypass her generation.

"Oh. Well then why doesn't Daddy wear a bra?"

Oh boy.

Next she'll be suggesting a mirdle.

Share and share alike

"I gave Goh-Goh TWO Arrowroot cookies, Daddy!", announced the Girlie last night as she snuck a pre-bedtime snack.

"Aw, little G, that was very nice of you, sharing with your brother.", replied her father proudly.

"Well, he said if I didn't give him two cookies he would take my black DS away."

Sibling love.

PS: I'm coming up to my 500th post - whoot! So, for that occasion, while we're on the topic of sharing, why don't you let me have it - ask me a question, any question that I haven't already answered or spilled my guts on here. Or if I already have, I'll spill them again.

You can leave me a comment, or e:mail me.

Just be gentle.

Happy Valentine's, Friend...

(that's for you, my virtual friend, your Valentine treat bag...)

I don't know about you, but Valentine's Day for me is just like any other day. It doesn't mean that I appreciate my husband any less, but we find it too commercial, and if anything we're almost "anti"-Valentines. Maybe we're too practical, maybe we're too old ... the wine and roses can be enjoyed by those going through courtship, and that's just fine. If the truth be known, I've seen so many flowers recently and all they do is fade, lose their glory, and get tossed.

Oh boy, this is quite depressing.

But I'm not trying to be.

I sat at the kitchen table yesterday, putting together over 40 bags of Valentine's treats for the friends' celebrations at school today, I was thinking "this is so NOT me". I'm not crafty, I don't always relish the stay-at-home gig. As I was tying the ribbons and then curling them, Ian asked what I had done all day. And to be honest, I had to think about it...and then I realized that I'd gone to get gloves to replace the one that I'd lost, then stopped to get some juices and groceries, and finally to the party store to pick up bags for the treats. Then I picked up the girl from school, delivered her best pal home, took her home to lunch, brought her to a playdate, then came back in time for the boy's guitar lesson.

Mundane, I know. But exhausting nonetheless. Then hubs noticed what I was doing, and asked me whether it was worth all that effort. I almost screamed, "Of course it's worth it! The kids love it, it's important to celebrate friendship, blah blah blah....!" And he backed off. (He doesn't realize the intense pressure to keep up with the other moms for the best treat bag on the block. Seriously, at the holiday party, one of the moms, a lovely lady, took it to a whole new level with her gingerbread man shaped cheese sandwiches and cheddar stars ...).

While I don't like the commercialization of romance, I have no problem with the Valentine concept of celebrating friendship.

(So where is this all going? Oh yeah, back to Valentine's day. This is somehow coming back to the man...)

I think that the key to a good marriage is friendship. My husband is my best friend. He started out as a friend, before all the flirting and passion, there was the fun and the getting to know each other as people. As individuals.

I attended a high school reunion get-together last weekend. I had known about it for a while, but really didn't have any interest in attending. But because of recent events, I suppose it was natural for me to be feeling nostalgic, for me to look back at a time when I was younger, to a time when my parents -- my Dad, was very much a part of my life.

I wasn't sure whether people would remember me. Not only because I look so different now, but also because my last years of high school were spent as the female half of a couple that was conjoined at the hip. We were stuck together like glue... and I was one of those annoying girls who melded her personality and changed it to suit what her boyfriend wanted. Or what she perceived he wanted her to be. Such huge self-esteem issues at such a young age. Not unusual for a 16 or 17 year old. But sad, really.

It's hard for me to look back on that now. And I'm obviously no longer with my highschool sweetheart.

But my husband encouraged me to go to the function, meet up with old friends, and perhaps make new ones. He has always been like that with me. Encouraging me, supporting me, telling me to expand new horizons (and in this case old ones), and not to be nervous or fearful. Having confidence in me. A wonderful friend.

So I attended with my girlfriend; like old times we walked into the party alone, scanning the room for familiar (or almost familiar) faces. Most of the crowd I hung out with are no longer in town, but we found some old classmates, got busy catching up and before we knew it we had been there over three hours. It was fun and it felt good. Because even the people who remembered me however remotely, they talked to me ... about me.

And so this Valentine's Day, I salute all my friends, and give my deepest love to my most important friend of all, my husband, my lover, my partner.

Happy un-V-day hubs - I'll pass on the flowers but sharing the vino will be great...

It was a dream....

Yours truly just came back from a lovely weekend away with the hubby.

THIS was our 15th anniversary weekend -- the one with the wicked bee sting in August was totally eclipsed by this trip.

We were in NYC -- Manhattan. And it rocked.

(((High sap alert, just warning you...)))

I love my kids. Anyone who reads this blog would have an inkling of that. And I know I vent about him here occasionally but other than that, don't really post about my husband much. Likely because I know some of his work mates read this, as do our nieces, so I don't want to venture into too much "ooeey-gooey ick" territory. But he is such a huge and important part of my life, when I experience times like this I cannot help but emote here.

A meeting in NYC came up for him, and the first thing he thought of was to bring me. I made arrangements with my folks to watch the kids (and believe you me, they were truly spoiled --"Bolt" the movie and "Toys R Us" in the same day?). So after a fun party on Friday, we took a 9:15 AM flight the next morning to New York, landing just before lunch time.

I'll post a trip novel later, but suffice it to say, time alone as a couple is so precious. In the day -to -day treadmill of life, you don't realize just how precious it is. You forget. It happens, it's bound to.

But after three whole days together, without any interruptions in conversation, no yelling at each other about who forgot to pack the juice boxes and snacks, just the two of us hand in hand, strolling through the city from Times Square through Chelsea to Greenwich Village, Soho, Nolita and back..stopping for coffee, having drinks, laughing, enjoying casual romantic dinners ... DATING again...we remember.

It all started with us, and it continues with us.

A message to my man: I am the luckiest, luckiest woman in the world. And I'm yours.

Weekly Winners #42

"Talk like a Pirate" moment

Reflections of a Butterfly

Rock Prince and Purple Princess

My Guitar Heroes

For other winners, visit LOTUS.

Double Happiness

( symbolic of weddings and wedding celebrations)

Fifteen years ago today, we said "I do".

We survived the wedding planning (you were smart, leaving most of it to me).

We survived the marriage course (wasn't that fun attending it with the girl who was crushing on you in university, there with her fiance).

And after the crazy weekend of celebrations, where we made our grand entrance in through the out door to the lovely strains of the theme from "The Young and the Restless"...




and the following evening you killed them with your karaoke capabilities (Elvis not once, twice, but three times?)





...we settled into married life.

What did that mean for us? Finally living in the same city. Together. Condo living by the market. Being able to stroll to the skating rink by the lake; to walk to see Iggy Pop in concert. Enjoying downtown living as a carefree twosome. And both working in the burbs. Kind of ironic. Family wasn't in the plans for a couple of years yet.

And when those plans went awry; when the carefully constructed Type A life-plan was blown away by the cruel fate? You were my strength; following my lead when I needed to be followed, but enveloping me with encouragement, optimism and love; pulling me along when I felt I couldn't do it any longer.

Life is so full of unknowns.

But You knew.

And you still know.

As do I.

The one thing in life that I am absolutely certain of, is how lucky I am. To have you, our children, our marriage. How lucky indeed.

Happy Anniversary.

Shiny Double Happy Family

WWW (Wordless Wednesday Wrestle)

(Why it looks like the Toy Fairy threw up in our family room)

For other Wordless Wonders, check here.

A Wedding Story

Another post, another blog carnival. I had so much fun the last time Rebecca hosted, I couldn't resist it this time around either. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I'm a sap.

I've shared this photo with you before ...

But not the details leading up to to it.

I’m wiping away the cobwebs, because this happened almost 15 years ago. Some of the fine details have faded; but other precious moments I recall as if they happened just yesterday. Wait, what happened yesterday? Ugh, loss of memory and long windedness -the perils of aging.


Well, this was it.

After 5 years of dating, a year of “not really knowing” and another of checklists, negotiations, preparations.

Our wedding day.

Or should I say wedding weekend.

For this is what lay ahead: traditional wedding ceremony, pictures taken at Glendon College Campus, “Canadian” white wedding reception at the Sheraton hotel; to be followed the next day by a second, traditional Chinese wedding banquet.

Take a deep breath.

*****

You know when you think you’re so certain of something, you just put your blinders on and trudge right ahead? Focus on the task at hand. I’m pretty good at that. After the wedding date was decided, it was all systems go for me. That was how it felt for Ian too; after he made that tremendous leap off the cliff and presented me with ring (a story for another day) he was pumped for it. We were working toward the biggest party of our lives. It never occurred to me one iota that this was HUGE, this thing called marriage.

However, the magnitude of “the rest of my life” struck me the night before the wedding. The hottest day of the year thus far. I remember being so anxious about the weather; I could just not imagine having to wear my gown and crinoline on another hot, humid day. Lying there in bed that night, my sister in the same room with me, and talking in the dark. Just as we used to when we were little girls. And realizing that this would be the last chat we would have with me as a single girl. It hit me but for a fleeting instant, this “what the hell am I doing? "feeling. The fact that it was there was my pinch of reality. The fact that the feeling was fleeting meant it was right.



The morning of the wedding I woke up to glorious sunshine. There had been rain overnight so miraculously it had cooled down. I remember the tremendous relief. And the butterflies in my stomach. Unfortunately, nerves continued to get the better of me that day; I was quite the stressful bride, as my sister and other bridesmaids have reminded me over the years.

When we drove up to the church, I was so nervous. It didn't help that the service before us had run overtime, and all our guests were spilled out onto the church lawn. When they saw our car drive up, many curious gawkers came up to the limo. So much for my grand entrance. By this point I was stressed to the gills; my father stepped out of the limo to check out what was happening.

By the time all was settled, I walked up with my Dad to the church entrance, just petrified. At the top of the aisle, my Dad, who has never been very demonstrative (typical Asian father, strong, silent type), squeezed my arm and whispered to me "You're doing just great... it will all be just fine.". I almost LOST it right then and there, but this was just what I needed to get me through the day.

I looked down the aisle and saw my groom waiting for me, with the biggest smile, a smile just for me. I walked toward him accompanied by the beautiful soothing voice of Enya resonating through the church. Ian took my hand, looked me in the eyes, and I felt the strength of the two of us ... the stress melted away.

The service itself was very simple. And typical of most days in our life together, tinged with humour. We both could tell that Father Bill had dipped a little into the holy wine. But he did manage to get our names straight, and got us through the ceremony.


Then we were off for the pictures, in the beautiful gardens, with our friends who made up our wedding party. We had some champagne with us, so there were laughs as we did our wedding "poses" in the bright sunshine.



By the time we got to the reception, we were already half an hour behind. So we bypassed the receiving line, and our DeeJay told us he'd just introduce us with our wedding party with the perfect entrance song. Guess what he chose? "Nadia's Theme" aka the theme song from "The Young and the Restless"! A soap opera ... OMG, we laughed as we walked into the hall, as this music was so NOT us!

The evening was such a great celebration, pretty tame with the exception of some leopard skin skivvies that were presented as part of the best man (Ian's cousin) speech about the groom. The laughter, the food, the dancing all went off pretty much without a hitch.

I was so busy, that I did not realize that I had not gone to the washroom ALL DAY until I had to change into my Chinese reception dress.

After that splendid evening, the dancing concluding with a Roxy Music classic we stayed overnight at the hotel, before we had the next celebration at a Chinese restaurant the next day. Another more raucous celebration without crazy Chinese wedding games (I nixed those) but with karoake singing instead of dancing.

The morning after the Chinese banquet, we moved into our first home, and that very same night drove up to Algonquin park for our honeymoon. We were running on pure adrenaline that weekend.

And the person responsible for these lovely sepia candid photos of our wonderful wedding day? My lovely little sister, my maid of honour...


You can tell how much she loves me even in this photo. Why else would she get dressed in that Joan Collins' outfit that I had her wear?

But yet another quirky, wonderful memory of a most special day.