Sunday, December 23, 2007
Pumpkin woke up 1-1/2 hours earlier than usual, screaming and crying. Naturally I jumped right out of bed since this is not her typical awakening. She was fine. She said something about her teddy bear, but I couldn't really figure out what she was saying due to her voice being so high-pitched and whiny. I know that the sound of one's own kid whining is one of the most annoying sounds for any parent, but somehow this was worse than usual. It didn't help that I had to jump out of bed like that instead of my usual, slow arising, which allows me to get the whole morning-sickness thing under control before I start my day. She wasn't going to go back to bed, so I had to start the morning ritual at a pretty early hour for us. I took her downstairs, gave her some milk, fed the dogs, flipped on the TV, and assumed a horizontal position on the couch to try and get my stomach under control before I took on any further activity. I started to dose off to the sounds of Dora, or Max and Ruby, or whatever show they had on, when WHACK! Shaking my head to try and figure out what the hell just happened, I realized that Pumpkin had swatted me in the face with a metal dog food bowl, with enough force to really hurt. Did I smack her back? No. Did I act on impulse? Yes. As soon as I gained some sort of consciousness, I shouted at her in my most hostile voice, "WILL YOU JUST FUCK RIGHT OFF!!!" She just carried on with what she was doing, but I know she filed those words away. They're in there, and I know they'll be making an appearance one of these days. Up until now, I have managed to refrain from foul language anywhere near her. I don't even tell the dogs to shut up - I shush them instead. I've been really careful. So now I've dropped the F-bomb directly at my daughter, and there isn't a thing I can do to change that. It's only a matter of time before I get black-listed on the play-date circuit because my daughter has become a bad influence. Apologies in advance.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
We can't have that.
I was s'phisticated once.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
Last week when I was reading kgirl's post about picking and choosing her holidays, I became a little jealous. You see, while I was growing up, my family celebrated all of the desirable Christian and Jewish holidays too. Although my mom converted to Judaism when she married my dad, she still hung on to Christmas and Easter. Not the religious part of it, but the toys/food/candy part of it. At Christmas, we had a mini tree, there were presents under it, and it was exciting. The Jewish celebrations tended to happen in the homes of my aunts and uncles, which were also fun and exciting. When my parents split and my mom moved us from Montreal to Toronto, we pretty much lost our Jewish-ness as we had no family in Toronto to keep the traditions alive, and none of us really had a lot of interest in learning what we were supposed to do. So around this time of year, we were mainly excited about Christmas, and we would look forward to all the many celebrations with friends, family, step-family, etc. Then I got involved with J, the man I would eventually marry. He had what one would call a "typical" Jewish upbringing. Christmas was just something that he viewed as a hectic time for those poor saps who have to spend crazy amounts of time and money at the mall every year. He wasn't altogether wrong, as it is easy to get caught up in that aspect of it, but regardless, it wasn't his holiday. Now that I am officially a Jewish wife and mother, I've pretty much abandoned Christmas, as it is not something that hubby is comfortable with. We still do something with my mom every year, including gifts, and a turkey dinner, but it is much more low-key than it used to be. A Christmas tree is kind-of inappropriate, and it wouldn't really go over too well with the in-laws. I feel that I have to hide any sort of Christmas reference from them as they have been worried about my lack of Jewish-ness from the very beginning. Yes, there is a whole other issue lurking behind the scenes, but I'm not going there. Suffice to say, the excitement is gone. It would be nice if I could pick up Hanukkah and make it as fun as Christmas used to be, but I can't. It doesn't really feel like my holiday, not having grown up celebrating it. We've been lighting the candles, and Pumpkin has received a few gifts, but I'm just not feeling the love. I realize that Hanukkah is not a replacement for Christmas, they just happen to fall close to one another, but I still wish I had something spirited l to celebrate around this time of year. I believe that as Pumpkin gets older, her excitement will feed mine, and we will find our way. For now though, I'm all "Bah, Humbug" with a touch of "Oy Vey". Merry whatever.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
A week or so ago, I was reading a magazine that gave me ammunition to act all smug and self-righteous for a little while. It was an article that discussed how socially advanced children are when they grow up with pets, specifically dogs, compared to kids who don't grow up with pets. The key social issue that is learned is apparently empathy, although there were other benefits mentioned as well. I'm sure I discussed this further with some other dog-people I know, and together we praised ourselves for this fabulous thing we are doing for our kids. There is just one problem. My daughter is an absolute terror towards my dogs. Empathy? Certainly not yet. She steps on them. She jumps on them. She shrieks at them. She pulls toys out of their mouths. She teases them with food. She practically decapitates them with doors. I can't believe they tolerate all this. It's constant too. Yelling at her won't stop it. She just laughs at me. Holding her down only works for as long as she is held down. I have no idea how to stop her except by distraction. It is now my all-day battle, as it is too dangerous to not keep on top of her for this. The dogs have been good so far, but I'm sure they have their breaking points. Maybe the empathy comes later. For now, having dogs and a toddler at the same time is starting to wear me down. I don't think I get to be smug for a good, long time.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
A friend of mine is a teacher, and a few years back, she mentioned to me that she was taking a group of students on dog-sledding trip. Immediately I asked, "Can I come??? Can I come???", because when does one really ever get presented with such an opportunity. The school didn't seem to mind my joining in, which is scary, because I could have been a crazed maniac who would rip someone's heart out and eat it just for pleasure, but I suppose my friend's vouching for me was enough to satisfy any concerns.
We drove out to Sundridge, Ontario after school let out, received our dog-sledding orientation, and then retreated to a most luxurious accommodation for the night.The next morning we all had an early breakfast at the motel's ultra-classy restaurant,and then we headed off to harness the doggies. I couldn't believe the set-up when we arrived. It was like a never-ending sea of dogs, and an insane amount of barking.We had to harness our own team, which was pretty intimidating for the non-dog people in the group, (no problem for me, of course), and then we were off! Much of my day looked like this:It was one of the coolest days I've ever had. It wasn't too cold, I loved being in the woods, and I got my work-out. We were instructed to run up hills rather than be towed up by the dogs, otherwise the dogs would run out of steam early in the trip, so by the end of the day, I felt spent, but in a good way, like after a solid day of cross-country skiing. I think the dogs felt pretty spent tooThe only thing left to do at that point was to drive back to Toronto in a van full of teenagers who thought it a good idea to cover themselves with Axe body spray to camouflage the smell of dog. Not such a good idea before a two hour drive, but at least I now know who the market is for that stuff. Nauseating fumes aside, it was an amazing way to spend the day. I know that when Pumpkin is old enough, my family will be doing annual trips like this. It was way too much fun not to.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
All I've got for you is my recap of Saturday night. Once again, my mom, the babysitter showed up, but we had nowhere to go. Dinner was once again, too tiring of an idea, and there were still no movies that hubby wanted to see. To solve this problem, I went out with my mom and left hubby home to close off the night with Pumpkin. He agreed to this so willingly, I almost became concerned. Then I caught a glimpse of the TV guide, and noticed that there was a two-hour Battlestar Glactica movie on last night. There was no competing with that. Mom and I caught an early showing of Lions for Lambs, which was excellent, although people usually don't like what I recommend to them, so don't call me for your money back if you see it and hate it. So I came home to find hubby playing Guitar Hero, waiting for the PVR to record enough of his movie that he could bypass all the commercials. Woohoo! Saturday nights just don't get any better than this.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
On the morning of day five, the crying stopped. Something was different. It probably helped that the night before I had slept in an actual bed for the first time on the trip, but it was more than that. It was as if my body had finally figured out what I was doing to it, and it seemed as though it was willing to cooperate. Sure, my knees, butt, and now hands were all on fire, but it didn’t matter. I actually wanted to get on my bike! Heading out that morning in what appeared to be the Canadian desert, I felt reborn. I cycled on, periodically singing the theme song to the Road Runner Show.
This was both our longest and hottest day. Despite these challenges, I was elated. On the previous days, the last 10 miles felt like 100. On this particular day, I didn’t even know I was in the home stretch until I had arrived at our rest point for the night. Each mile introduced better and better scenery as the desert turned to lakes upon lakes, all surrounded by lush, green mountains. The campsite was a gem with its lakefront property, and I was actually disappointed that I was going to miss out on sleeping there, as it was one of our cherished motel nights. Sleeping in a real bed was still the right decision after reading over the itinerary for the next day. Looking down to the bottom of the page, I read the words “start 70 km /44 mile climb to Rogers Pass. At the time, I felt some dread, but it turned out that this climb would .take me higher than I imagined.
Reaching the summit of the pass was not the highlight of the climb. All I found there was a Best Western hotel. It was a great place for viewing the glaciers, but those glaciers and I had been staring each other down for the full duration of my ascent, so we were already acquainted. Flying down the other side of the pass was not the highlight either, although it was exciting to be passing cars, dodging rocks, and almost running over a bear! There were many amazing moments along this route, but the absolute best part of this whole trip occurred halfway up the pass where we camped for the night, at Canyon Hot Springs.
Canyon Hot Springs had, you guessed it, hot springs! That evening, soaking in a natural mineral bath, the cool September wind on my face, totally surrounded by glacier-capped mountains, I thought to myself, I EARNED THIS! I don’t think I have ever felt more personally satisfied. To add to my pleasure, the night sky then treated me to a sight that I will never forget. It’s not like I haven’t seen stars before, as I have camped out in several remote locations where star viewing was supposedly optimal, but THIS was in a category of its own. There were more stars than sky! I knew it would be futile to point my camera upwards to try to capture this awesome spectacle, but I did it anyways. I didn’t want this memory to fade. It hasn’t.
The days that followed provided us with more challenges, great biking, and more beautiful scenery. I found myself watching the trains as they carved their way through the cedars along the mountainside. I imagined that they were cheering me on, before taking off like well seasoned athletes, while I chugged along like the Little Engine that Could. As I rode into Canada Olympic Park in Calgary, I started to miss those trains. I missed all of it, and knew that I would be back. A trip to Club Med could never compare.
Friday, November 23, 2007
I have always been a relatively good cyclist. J bought a bike when he met me, and together we have covered great distances. We have never been the kind of cyclists that travel in packs, nor do we practice “drafting”, or wear too much spandex, but we can hold our own. We had given up road biking in favour of mountain biking, but there was an organized road trip that caught my eye. It was in a brochure that I picked up in a bike shop. It read, Vancouver to Calgary in 10 days/11 nights, 1120 km/700 miles – For intermediate to advanced cyclists. If I were to pick up that ad today, I’d put it right back down, but this was about 8 years ago. We were obviously younger, but we also had a certain spirit, probably vestiges from childhood, when we believed we were invincible. Neither of us had seen the Canadian Rockies, and what better way to enjoy experience than by cycling through them! It’s a good thing that we were so naive, because we never would have signed up for this if we could have foreseen the pain that was to come.
The first four days of this trip were full of regret. I regretted that we didn’t spend more time training on-road. I regretted the choice of bike seat that I brought from home. I regretted that we didn’t pay extra for our trip so that we did not have to shower at camp sites and sleep in tents half the time. I could go on, but these were the big three.
When we first registered for the trip, we set aside one day where we cycled 75 miles to ensure that we could do it within eight hours. When we established that we could, we thought, “Great! Now let’s get back to mountain-biking until we go on our trip at the end of August.” Maybe it would have been better to have a few long days on-road to prepare us for, and possibly prevent the way our knees felt after several consecutive days of abuse. Upon waking up on day three of the trip, my knees were so stiff that it was difficult to walk to the washroom, let alone cycle to the next town. When I got on my bike, it felt like I was spending a day’s worth of energy trying to crank the pedals just once. The stiffness eased up as I warmed up, but every morning started out just a little bit worse than the one before it. As if the knees weren’t bad enough, I was having much worse problems elsewhere.
The bike saddle that I brought from home was a $120 piece of crap! In all honesty, it did not appear that anyone was having a great time with his or her saddle, but I’m sure that I would have been better off with one that my butt was already familiar with. By day three, getting on to that seat was like getting into a scorching, hot bath. I would touch down ever so slightly, only to launch right off again from the pain. I had to repeat this process over and over again until I was accustomed to the pain well enough to actually sit. There were many other problems precipitated by the seat, the padded shorts, the sweat, and the friction, but now is not the time for detailed descriptions. Let’s just say drug stores between Vancouver and Calgary made a fortune off of us all. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if only I had the opportunity to soak in a hot bath at the end of each day.
After a day of rigorous activity, there is nothing like a hot bath, and a warm, comfortable bed. At least that was what I imagined on our second night as I climbed into my tent and lay down on my stinky, two-inch thick inflatable, rubber air mattress. Lying side by side in our less-than-luxurious accommodation, J turned to me and said “You know, we could have gone to Club Med for almost the same amount money.” I started to cry.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
8 Things I am Passionate About
8 Things I Say Often
Shiza (a little swearing in another language never hurt anyone, right?)
Don't step on the dog!
Don't feed the dog!
I don't wanna!
8 Books I've recently read
Exile, by Richard North Patterson
The Secret, by Rhonda Byrne
Knocked Up, by Rebecca Eckler
The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards
Goodnight Nobody, by Jennifer Weiner
Ten Thousand Lovers, by Edeet Ravel
Sundowners, by Lesley Lokko
Naked, by David Sedaris
8 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
Renovate my family room
Find a career
See my child (children) grow up
Whatever - I'm not big on making plans
8 Songs I Can Listen To Over and Over (I never said I was cool, or current)
Mr. Brightside - The Killers
When the Night Feels My Song - Bedouin Soundclash
Just My Imagination - The Cranberries
In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel
Beautiful Day - U2
Fast Car - Tracy Chapman
Otherside - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Wheat Kings - Tragically Hip
8 Things I look for in friends
sense of humour
This category is ridiculous. Am I really going to say that I want my friends to be assholes who kick puppy dogs? Feel free to fill in the rest with warm, fuzzy adjectives.
8 things I've learned in the past year
my office job was a waste of time
I can write my blog without resorting to making fun of people
My writing can be somewhat entertaining
I have the power to make myself happy
I shouldn't store fabric softener in the same cupboard as Zip Lock bags.
I'm a pretty good mom
It is not boring to spend my day with a toddler
I cannot get to bed at a reasonable hour
I'm sure as hell not tagging eight more people. I don't think I know eight people. Consider yourself tagged if you feel like doing this meme, and be sure to tell me if you do it.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Today is our 6th wedding anniversary! I'd love to do a touching, and romantic post such as the ones I've read from others in the past, but there are a couple of problems. I don't do "romantic" very well, and it's not like I could get my husband to read my blog anyways. To top it off, family and health issues have put the celebration on hold. Nonetheless, it is a special occasion, whether we do something about it or not, so I feel that I should at least share it with you all, because no doubt you will make me feel warm and fuzzy by filling my comment field up with your love.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
In other news, I came home from having dinner with the in-laws, only to find that one of my dogs grabbed a 1L tetra pack of juice, and splattered it all over the house. It is after 9 pm and I have to mop and shampoo the floors now. Ugh.
Not much else happened over here today. I am pretty much drawing a bloggy blank, and should really be dragging up the carpet shampoo-er from the basement, so I'm keeping it short today. See y'all tomorrow.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
1. Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and or weird things about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
Things you just couldn't live without knowing:
1. I feel empathy for inanimate objects. Like if I'm eating a bunch of grapes and one falls on the ground and has to be tossed out, I feel bad that it never had the full experience of being a grape. Don't you think it spent it's whole life waiting to be eaten? I am only talking about the grape here!
2. Hubby and I once rode our bicycles from Vancouver to Calgary on an 11-day trip. It was one of the best things I've ever done, and I would never do it again. I've actually written an essay about this, so if I run out of steam before the end of November, you may get to read it.
3. I always cry whenever I hear this verse from, "Puff the Magic Dragon".
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
My parents are divorced, yet they still have a decent relationship. They call each other to discuss their kids, or the stock market, or whatever. It is never a problem to have them around each other. In fact, when my brother and I were younger, my dad and his second wife would visit from Montreal, and actually stay at my mom's house while they visited. That sounds a little strange to me now, but it did make for a nicer visit with my dad, as opposed to hanging around a hotel room or something.
My dad's second marriage wasn't the ultimate success either. That being said, there was no real fighting at the end, and I don't have to feel any discomfort when I visit with my now ex-step-mother, ex-step-sister, and ex-step nieces/nephew. My dad may not be all that close with his ex-wife, but they have both moved on, and don't harbour any negative feelings towards each other. This has really helped me in my efforts to maintain my relationships with all of them, especially my ex-step-sister, who I became close with over the course of our parent's 18-year marriage.
Then just yesterday, my brother's ex came to town for a visit. She specifically set aside time to make sure she could see us. Both my mother and I love her, and it means a lot that she wants to continue to have some sort of relationship with us. It is also important to me that she has been able to spend time with my daughter. This would not be possible if her break-up with my brother had been a messy one. It was great to see you, J. Thanks for the cookies too!
So I guess this post is an expression of gratitude to my family and their ex-spouses, who may not be great at choosing life-mates, but are at least role models for ideal break-ups. You all rock!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
I can't believe that these friends actually listened to me! ME! I'm a far cry from Stacey or Clinton, but apparently I do good work. Does anyone need a personal shopper?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Yeah, it's cheesy, but I thought it would be be a shame to never reveal this talent of mine to the world. Happy day 12 of Nablopomo!
Sunday, November 11, 2007
I'm pretty tired from all that driving, so an insightful post is not likely, but I will leave you with a tidbit of information about me: I am frightened of the Zamboni. When I was three or so, my parents occasionally took me to the skating rink, where I did not reveal any special talents. At the end of the skate session, the buzzer would loudly go off, and I knew that if I didn't get off the rink ASAP, the big bad Zamboni would run me over and turn me into minced meat. It wouldn't have been so bad if I could actually skate, but all I could do was attempt to run, and fall, countless times, until I could finally scamper off the ice. I blame my brother. I don't know why, but somehow I think he had a hand in this fear. Minced meat? I couldn't have come up with that on my own.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
I'll be back posting and commenting from Toronto by tomorrow evening. I'll catch up with y'all then.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
If any of you are scraping for material, and want to run with a post about your first or weirdest relationship, please feel free. Just let me know if you do it so I can come by and laugh/cringe/cry.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
I think it is obvious that there are sooooo many things wrong with what the "friend" did here, but it was the words of the columnist that kind of surprised me. He talked about human nature, and how it is normal to want to snoop around someone else's personal belongings. The columnist also described a similar incident where he overheard a guest going through his medicine cabinet, and even heard this guest pull back the shower curtain as if expecting to see a dead body in the bathtub or something. The columnist also added that since it is human nature to snoop, he couldn't help but wonder if the couple with the pregnancy test wanted the test to be found, since they left it lying around when guests were expected. Lying around??? It was in the medicine cabinet!!! Should people really be expecting that their guests will really go snooping in there? It has never occurred to me to do this to someone, or that someone would do it to me. Nice job on blaming the victim here, don't you think? Do any of you have any experience with something like this? The columnist was implying that it is an everyday occurrence. Is it?
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Friday, November 02, 2007
I don't know why, but after reading blogs last night until around midnight, I then went on to do some ironing. Weird, but I had the urge, so I figured I'd strike while the iron was hot. Get it? Get it? Yeah, I know. So by about one in the morning, I went to bed for what I figured would be a solid six and a half hours of sleep, which is normally a reasonable assumption. However, at 4:30, Pumpkin woke up screaming, although she couldn't tell me why. Bad dreams? Who knows? It took me a good half hour to get her calmed down enough to go back to sleep, which included me fumbling around in the dark to change the batteries in her musical-birdy-crib-thingy so that she could have the full light and musical effect while she dozed off.
This morning, Grandma, Pumpkin and I headed out to the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair. I hadn't been since I was in grade seven, so it was a fairly fresh experience for me. Pumpkin enjoyed the petting zoo, which was set up complete with disinfectant stands, and an actual place to wash with soap and water, so I didn't have any germ-o-phoebe breakdowns after feeding the goats. The highlight for us was the Super Dog show, which was kind of venturing into the unknown territory with a two-year-old, but she clapped, cheered, probably bugged the kid sitting in front of her a whole lot, and managed to make it through the full 40 minute show. There was also an antique area, and probably other interesting booths, but we really couldn't look around thoroughly with Pumpkin in tow. It was still something different, and she seemed to appreciate the experience, so I'll give it a seven out of ten.
Now I have to get ready to head back downtown for a house warming / girls night, so I'm off to wash the smell of goat off my hands, and pick up some sort of house warming gift. The person who's house it is might be the only person I know who doesn't have an Internet connection, which is why I'm whipping this post off now instead of at around 10:30 pm when I'll probably have had a couple of glasses of wine, and believe myself to be exceptionally witty. Just as well. See y'all tomorrow.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
A while back, I read a post (that I can't locate right now or else I'd link to it) about the inappropriateness of asking someone about his or her plans to have a child or a second child. It is an inappropriate question for a multitude of reasons, but from my perspective, it is inappropriate because there is a lack of consideration for those who have fertility issues. This is not a light topic. It can be a very painful topic for those who have been trying and who have been unsuccessful. Before conceiving Pumpkin, I always had a fear that I wouldn't be able to get pregnant due to some complications that I had when I was younger. To cope with this fear, my husband and I typically told people that we were either going to have one, two, or none. People didn't like that, especially the one or none options. I know people generally mean well when they give me a nudge and inquire about giving Pumpkin a sibling. I know that some people just don't know what to say, yet the need to speak overrides having nothing to say, so they go with whatever comes to mind. I know that people who say to me, "You CAN'T have just ONE!", also mean well, although they do in fact need a kick in the head. Irrespective of people's intentions, it is still not acceptable to ask about such personal matters. I still have residual fear, and even though I have managed to create one beautiful child, I don't feel confident that I can simply have another just because I want one. This brings me to the discussion I had with my relative yesterday.
The conversation was about Pumpkin, and how big she is getting, which of course led to this relative announcing to me that it was time to have another one. I tensed up, took a deep breath, and said what I could to make her feel uncomfortable for having suggested it. "Well, it would be nice to have another, but it isn't entirely up to just Hubby and me. Medical factors are at play, if you recall.", I said in a somewhat patronizing tone.
"Oh yeah, that's right.", was the reply. "You know, you do have a beautiful daughter already, and I guess if she is the only child you ever have, she will be more than enough."
This was the only time I have ever had anyone condone the possibility of my having one child. I also agree that if Pumpkin ends up being the only child I ever have, I am still blessed. That aside I was still pissed off at this relative for saying so. She doesn't know where I stand on my need for a second child. What if I have been consumed with the thought of a second child since the first one was born? I haven't been, but this relative doesn't know that. It was then that I discovered that as inappropriate as it is to ask me if I plan on having more children, it is also inappropriate to suggest that I should be content with just one (or more as it may be for some). This is an emotional issue, so even if intellectually I am aware that I already have an amazing child, it does not change the emotional anguish I would experience if I wanted more yet could not have them. Bottom line: Steer clear of this topic with me. It's just too personal. I'm sure I'm not alone.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
- Hubby and I did dinner and a movie last night
- I found and bought two pairs of awesome jeans with my birthday money (no, I am not too old for birthday money!)
- I discovered that the yoga pants that I got for my birthday don't attract dog hair
- I got to sleep in today, AND had a nap in the afternoon
- I was able to show my daughter her first rainbow
- A house on our street went up for sale, and I was able to go to the pictures on the on-line listing to steal some decorating ideas (same builder, same challenges)
- Hubby is feeling motivated to renovate our washrooms now
- We got free tickets to see We Will Rock You - enjoyed the show
- My car is now (temporarily) Cheerio-free
- This picture:
Ok, I feel better now. I don't get to bill for twenty-odd dollars, but I feel better.
Friday, October 26, 2007
It's one of those virtual pets that was all the rage maybe ten years ago. The poor thing was already dead when I found it in my washroom the other day. If I had only known that it was here, I would have saved it. I actually feel bad about that.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
(We now resume our regularly scheduled assault on the English language)
I don’t like to kill bugs. I feel bad if I do kill one, so if I am faced with a bug in my house that wasn’t invited, I am likely to trap it under a cup, then slide something underneath the cup, allowing me to transport it outside. Even if I found a bug like the one on Motherbumper’s page this week, I would still trap it, maybe under a shoebox, throw on some Kevlar protection, and try to remove it. I’d have nightmares afterwards, but I would still remove it. Actually, I think I’d pay someone else to remove it. I can guarantee you that hubby would run away screaming, so yes, I would pay someone. Sometimes bug removal is an ongoing task. I have ladybugs going crazy in my dining room right now, so I’m working away, trying to relocate them all to the backyard, only to let them be killed by some act of nature that I won’t have to witness. I’m ok with that. Pumpkin has never had to contemplate bug-killing. The first time she saw an ant on the floor, she bent down and said, “Helloooooo” to it, so how could I squash it? She thinks all animals are great. There are toads living in our window well that she visits daily. There was a mouse in there that she was excited to see too. I pointed out a snake in the woods, without letting her know that snakes are creepy, and she just said, “Hello snake!”. At the zoo, she looked in a lizard aquarium and called the scaly thing, “beautiful”. Perhaps lizards are beautiful. I’m not going to tell her otherwise. I love that she loves all animals. I am, however, wondering if maybe I’m depriving her of necessary life-skills on the bug-front.
The other day, we were at the in-law's for dinner, when something caught my eye. It was a large centipede making its way across the kitchen floor. I followed it into the dining room, with the idea of showing Pumpkin the "great, big bug". Well, the woman who cares for my in-laws was there, and when she saw it, she let out a shriek and stomped on it. I had to look away, and I made Pumpkin look away. I was actually kind of annoyed that this woman hadn’t thought twice about committing such an act of violence in front of my daughter. Yes, I do realize that I am the one with the problem here. Bugs don’t belong in the house, and we really should get rid of them, I guess. Not everyone is in the bug-relocation business. Anyhow, I left the splattered, bug mess and returned to the dinner table. Pumpkin was wandering around the kitchen, no longer playing with her toys, and speaking very softly. She approached us at the table, looking disturbed, twiddling her fingers, still talking quietly, and not saying anything that sounded like English. She kind of reminded me of Beaker from the Muppet Show, only with eyebrows. Finally at the end of her string of gibberish, she uttered the words, “Step. On. It.”, still looking disturbed. I KNEW IT! SHE WAS TRAUMATIZED! Or not. She seemed to get over it and resumed regular play activities after a short while. I guess what I was upset about was that it was her first glimpse of how humans can destroy nature. I like keeping her innocent. This is the only time in life that she can acceptably be oblivious to the world's problems, and simply pursue her own happiness. To Pumpkin, the greatest injustice in the world is that she can’t have crackers for breakfast. I don’t want her having bad dreams about bug-squashings. That being said, I also wouldn’t want to see her living in a bug-infested apartment one day, thinking that she is one with nature.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The first time hubby and I rescued a dog, we were not even in the market to do so. I was working with a woman who was discussing her neighbour’s marital problems, which involved the wife being hospitalized, and the husband having a restraining order against him. My colleague was complaining that she had to care for the neighbour’s animals since no one else was at the house to do so. Yes, I realize that there are bigger problems going on in this story, but the both police and Children’s Aid were already involved, so I shifted my focus to the animals. I figured that the animals in question were fish, or birds, maybe even a cat, but when she mentioned that there was a German Shepherd, I freaked out. Even with my colleague going over to let it out and feed it, it wasn’t enough. Dog’s are social animals and need companionship, exercise, and stimulation. The next day I went over to the “house of abandoned animals”, and came home with the dog. It took about two hours for us to fall in love with her. Based on what we knew, we figured that her owners were not going to get their shit together well enough to reclaim their dog, as a divorce seemed inevitable, and money was going to be an issue. I wasn’t wishing for the family to fall apart, but it seemed to be the only likely outcome, and I was really hoping to keep the dog. It turned out that I was wrong in my assumption about the family. Despite all that had gone on with them, the husband and wife decided to give it another try. After six weeks of my caring for their dog, they took her back from me. I was devastated. It wasn’t just that I couldn’t keep the dog, but also that the dog was going back to a potentially dangerous situation, where she wasn’t necessarily going to be cared for properly. I couldn’t keep it together at work the next day, and cried upon returning home from work, only to not be greeted by the dog. A year later, we got a call from the dog's owners, saying that the marriage had fallen apart, and that they could not keep the dog. They wanted us to take her. The problem was that upon losing the dog in the first place, we went on to adopt two other dogs, and could no longer take in the original dog. Once again, there were many tears, and an inability to keep it together at work the next day, which is why I don’t blame Ellen for not keeping it together on her show.
Ellen probably loves the puppy, so giving it up must have been extremely painful for her. Add that to the fact that the family she gave it to is not allowed to keep it, and that the dog is going back to the shelter, and I see cause for a bit of a break-down. I'd like to see anyone else attempt comedy under those circumstances. I hope I don’t sound like that fan who defended Britney on YouTube recently, but I do want to send Ellen a shoulder to cry on, ‘cause I do understand.
Edited to add: Just to give you a warm, fuzzy feeling, you should know that a good friend of mine took in the German Shepherd, and both owner and doggie are thrilled with the arrangement.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Christopher Reeve: Yeah, that’s kind of sad to reflect on now, but it was what it was. Back in the days of Superman II, I was so crazy about him that I actually cried about the geographical distance between us. I was about eight years old and enamoured with the close-up shots of his beautiful blue eyes during some of the romantic scenes with Lois Lane. He wasn’t easy to find pictures of, so I was pretty much stuck with Superman posters that would have been more appropriate for comic book fans. Sadly or fortunately, I was too young to appreciate how the blue tights enabled me to see how well he was stacking up.
Scott Baio: I have mentioned him previously in my blog, as I tried to recruit people to watch his reality show, Scott Baio is 45 and Single. Scott became the object of my desire when I was ten. I distinctly remember an art project in grade four where I made a picture of a TV screen that said, “Tania Loves Chachi”. I was a huge Happy Days fan, but I think the crush started after seeing the not-so-critically acclaimed film, Zapped. I can’t really remember much about the movie except that Scott Baio’s character acquired telekinetic powers, which he used to undress his girlfriend during the sex scene. WHERE WERE OUR PARENTS WHILE WE WERE WATCHING THIS???
Ricky Schroeder: Here we are…face to face…a couple of silver spoons… That was music to my ears in grade five. Now here was a guy that I really had a chance with! He was close to my own age! I sent him pictures of my 11-year-old self in a bathing suit, feeling most certain that he would hop on a plane to meet me as soon as he had a chance. Still waiting. I think I should have sent a different picture. My 11-year-old self did not realize that a pot belly and only one recently sprouted bud of a breast was not a good look - especially in a bathing suit.
Michael Jackson: Oh don’t pretend that you didn’t like him too! Those were the Thriller days, and he was all everyone in grade five and six could talk about. I bought all the albums and I wore about ten MJ buttons on my shirt every day. I desperately wanted the red jacket with all the zippers but could never have afforded one. I did NOT wear one white glove – even I thought that was lame. He wasn’t typically featured in the teen magazines, so I had to resort to the National Inquirer, and other crappy tabloids to find pictures to get excited about. I did manage to acquire a larger-than-life-size poster:
I think I'm just gonna let you make your own joke here.
Beyond my MJ days, I think it just became a little uncool to do the poster thing. Looking at the pics that I posted here, I'm glad it ended. Is it me or did my tastes get progressively worse as time went on? Who would have been next? Boy George?
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Then today, she gave me both a laugh and a shock when I realized just how much information gets into her head. I was trying to do her hair, but she was squirmy, so I tried to subdue her by singing. This would make the average person run the other way, but Pumpkin doesn't know just how bad I am yet, and remained still enough for me to create a lopsided ponytail. I woke up with Hey there Delilah running through my head, so that's the song I sang. I gave it a verse, then quit, because honestly, I am so sick of that overplayed song. All summer long, I heard it every time I got in the car, even if I was only driving for five minutes. As it turns out, Pumpkin was also affected by the constant repetition of that song. When I stopped singing, she blinked at me in the mirror, possibly wanting me to continue, then took matters into her own hands and sang, "Ohhh, wha do do mee, ohhh wha do do meeee". At age 2-and-a-bit, I am still getting used to the fact that she can say anything, let alone sing a top 40 hit.
To add to my perception that she is absolutely brilliant, Pumpkin even managed to outsmart me today. She is absolutely addicted to YouTube, thanks to my hubby and his propensity to entertain her by granting her a video of any subject she shouts out at him. Lately, she is all about a Hippo video that I am not going to link to 'cause I don't know how. You don't want to see it anyways, trust me. She wanted to watch it on my upstairs, desktop computer this morning, but I wanted to keep her downstairs so I could eat some breakfast. Fifteen minutes passed, then she said, "Pee pee! Go potty!" Well, that got me excited since she isn't at all toilette-trained, so I rushed her upstairs to the potty, only to see her run past the washroom, into my office, over the computer, shouting, "Hippo!" Apparently she is aware of my eagerness to get her toilette trained, and has no problem abusing this information for her benefit. I'm kinda proud!