80sPro: Discussing Kidlets, The 80's, Pilates & More!

I know I know, been awhile. Pull up a chair.

2010-08-30T14:05:00.003-04:00

Hi!

Okay, I know it's been awhile. But my life kind of had to go through a metamorphosis and then get to a comfy place before I could write again - and have it be more than just whining, poor me, or about my life. I am not about to start clarifying who did what or how things went down; not in this creative, thinking, cathartic place of mine. So therefore I needed the very long break.

And now. Now my head is sorting itself out and I find there are things ruminating up in there that I might want to write about again. Eat, Pray, Love is one of them. But I'm not finished the book yet so I'll be back for that one.

Maybe it was.....well a week or so ago I had a little meltdown. And maybe that was brought on by hormones (blessed be PMS) or maybe it wasn't, but I just couldn't shut up when I should. I couldn't finish a conversation well over and done (sorry Mark), and I just got myself more and more worked up. So I felt myself taking all these fears I have swirling around in my head and turning them in to three pages of "what if" prose; a short story about what the worst things that could happen if I ever went off the deep end of things. And it was amazing. It set me free. I wrote it and re-read it and cried. Twice. Then I named it and sent it to myself and put it away. I told Mark I wrote it but I didn't tell him what was in it and (bless him) he didn't ask.

So after I did that, I got really into reading again, which is another thing that sets me free, especially this particular book (thank you Diane). And so maybe THAT is what brings me back today.

Because in Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert talks about being happy for the simple things, and about how impossible it is to NOT be miserable as a matter of course in today's society. Now I know I am not blogging about this book per sé, but I guess in an indirect way it's why I'm here. So bear with me.

I guess I've just been doing my best to relax about some things. Really try to make "if it is meant to be it will be" my mantra. Really trying to not drive anyone, especially myself, crazy. In so doing, one tries to remind themselves to really grab those little moments. Capture them. Like when your little guy is trying with all his might to master a somersault and you just really concentrate on it all so that you can remember the moment always.

So today I wasn't feeling all that great and I was certainly tired. But I came to work and then I kept my commitment to teach Pilates at noon. This is something I've been doing about 5 months now on a larger scale than I was. I teach anyone from this organization who wants to join. I proudly have over 40 signed waiver forms for participants though I certainly don't ever have 40 in the room at once. In the heart of the summer we've been lucky to have a dozen practicing, including me. But these are pretty respectable numbers for summer, so I've been happy enough. And it's been wonderful to "teach" again, to use prompts I didn't need to use with the 7 regulars.

So today, not feeling all that great, and probably not feeling all that grate-ful, I paused to look around the room at the ladies doing their leg-lifts. And I had one of those moments. Pause and take the picture, Karen. Look at them! Not a single one is rushing it; they have nice length, they are hovering off the floor like pros.

I smiled to myself and continued to watch periodically through the rest of the "legs portion" of our workout. Again when it came to leg circles for inner thighs I watched; I've really been coaching on this one because it's a hard move and if you do it wrong not only are you not targeting your inner thighs, but you could hurt your knees.

And lo! They were brilliant! Each and every one of them was just doing their best! Absolutely getting it right even if it was the slowest or the smallest circle possible.

My eyes opened as if I were seeing the colours in the room for the first time. I felt real gratitude for being there at that moment. I was so glad they were coming, entrusting me with their physical well being for an hour a couple of times a week.

And at the end of the class I applauded THEM.

So. Yeah. That's why I'm back. I think. I guess time will tell! But as you ALL know, I have loads to say! So, let's see where we are, shall we? (Oh, and thank you for taking the time to read this!)

namasté

k

Editorial to All Toronto Cyclists

2009-07-15T19:48:00.002-04:00

I know I cannot be considered in any way a professional or serious cyclist. I don't have the clothes or the gear, the water bottle holder or anything at all resembling "decked out" (although, I do have a pretty cool Matterhorn Mountain Bike, a very cool lock, and a pretty decent bell).

But I am riding to work these days. Well for one thing it's a great work out (OH MY QUADS) and for another our second car just died and we haven't yet taken the plunge to buy a new one.

So this riding business is new. Real new. Wasn't much into riding MAJOR thoroughfares as a rider when I would go for after work rides in the park. Stayed to side streets mostly, and the park trails. Wasn't in a hurry to get anywhere, so the route wasn't so key.

But now, as my form of transportation, the route is important, as is the time it takes to get there and back. And let me tell you, some of the west Toronto roadways are CRAP! Sure, who cares about the pot holes at the side of the road? No one is at the side of the road. YES WE ARE! Hellll-ooooo, it's us cyclists at the side of the road! Trying to avoid being hit by that idiot making a right turn or that truck coming within inches of my handlebar!

Cyclists of Toronto, I am VERY sorry! I am sorry if I was ever disrespectful to you as a driver. I am sorry that you don't have nice smooth roadsides in which to ride. I am sorry that sometimes you don't get seen. Or heard. Or listened to when you make your pleas.

There are bike laws here - serious ones. And one of the infractions is driving on the sidewalk. Well, come and get me Metro Police, because I am NOT riding on the road on Evan's Avenue EVER AGAIN. Tonight the trucks were especially rude, and the potholes especially jarring. My head felt ever so bobble-ish. I actually had to stand and hop several in a row. I feared my bike would fall apart in the middle of the road from the absorption of it. And I have GOOD shocks!

So see me on Evan's Ave sidewalks - which I don't feel that badly about because it is an industrial area and not too many pedestrians. If an officer were to pull me over, I would show the lovely constable the REASON I will choose to use the sidewalk in this one spot.

It's not all bad though. Some drivers are downright decent (thank you, Bell Canada guy in the van!) and other cyclists acknowledge you. I feel good for doing it on many levels. The office has a nice lock-up provided. No hassles there. And part of the route IS bike friendly, just not the end part on the way home, which I have yet to figure out fully.

But I just wanted to say that I fully understand all the lobbying cyclist groups do to try to get better conditions for themselves. I mean, all the environmental groups, and even our local and provincial governments, are pushing for us to be more healthy, more green in our approach to transportation. All very well and good - but then why are there so many roadblocks for cyclists to endure and overcome in their pursuit of something good on so many levels?

Stop talking out the sides of your mouths, government officials. Give the cyclists better riding conditions. THEN maybe you WILL have more of them on the road.

Thanks for listening! Ride On!

unfinished business

2009-07-02T21:50:00.002-04:00

Sometimes you think to yourself that you'll get to that thing tomorrow or next week or maybe a month from now. Then those times come and go and lo if you forgot to do that thing next week or next month or even a year from now.

But what IF that bus really did hop the curb and knock out all your tomorrows, next weeks or next months? Wouldn't you really wish you'd taken the kids to the zoo, painted the bathroom, lived that life you really want to live?

All this talk lately of past great essays and everyone KNOWING how verbose I am (yes, sorry if I go too fast and say too much and don't wait for you to catch up!!!) has got me to thinking about how I ought to finish that book.

You know, I really OUGHT to paint the bathroom.
I ought to get a new bathroom sink.
I ought to clean out the basement storage room.
I ought to take the kids to the zoo.
And I really ought to finish my novel. It's pretty good actually. People might like to read it. It's never too late for such an endeavour....

stayed tuned.....

Teacher Teacher, Can You Teach Me?

2009-06-18T10:30:00.004-04:00

When I was in 4th year at York University, I took a course on Hemingway and Faulkner. It was an exciting course, the best I had ever taken. I learned a lot that year, from an incredibly talented English Professor named Don Sumemrhayes. His insight was incredible, and the discussions he encouraged pretty much ALWAYS left the group of 20 or so of us groaning each week when we realized the class was at an end.

At the end of that year we had a final essay worth 50% of our grade. We were to take one of the dozen books we had read and write about it in that traditional sense, calling to mind the various literary tools the book used to engage its reader. It was to have been a traditional essay format, at least as far as we understood.

I couldn’t wrap my head around it. In no way could I explain how I felt about To Have and Have Not in a way that would be as intelligible as all the in-class conversations had been with all those big-brains in the class. But I DID feel strongly. So I re-wrote the entire ending of the book. No explanation. Just prose. My entire essay spoke for itself.

I was illustrating what Prof. Summerhayes said when we argued about whether or not a writer’s meaning could be interpreted using our own set of assumptions and life experiences; about whether or not the Deconstruction Theory could be applied to someone else’s work. I had always argued that if they put it out there, one could not help but attach their own meaning to the work. I felt I must therefore be a deconstructionist. And as such, I decided to do something bold and risky. And it was an intense exercise – it was both invigorating and intrusive, taking a writer such as Papa, and reworking him, forsaking his work as his own private canvass.

I really worked at it to get the feel for the writing style; I wanted it to look RIGHT, as though the pages could have been found amongst his things – the alternate ending he had debated for himself. I was scared the day I handed that 20 pages in. I really worried and lost sleep while it was out being graded. And on the day they were handed back I had a pit in my stomach the size of a grapefruit.

He didn’t hand mine back and he asked me to stay.

Uh-oh. What had I done? I about died.

The other students got theirs and all left the room with a backward glance to me. Was I about to fail? Convocation was mere weeks away. I was about to become the first University Degree Holder in my family since my Grandfather. Or was I? Had I risked it all to do some 4th year cocky English major boneheaded move?

He looked at me, that wonderful old hippie with long white hair in a ponytail and a beard, Our own Modern Hemingway. He slid it upside down across the table to me.

Tapping with his left fingers as he eyed me carefully, he sat back and told me to turn it over. I almost couldn't do it. I was so afraid.

A+

His written comment beside that glorious grade:
“A Most Brave and Wonderful Essay, and a joy to read.”

Here I had desecrated the sacred Hemingway, in a really big way, and I got my first EVER A+, weeks away from graduation. (I mean ever here. I'd scored a couple of A's in high school. But I was never considered an A student. And had NEVER received an A+).

I was on cloud 9 for weeks, and still am whenever I think about that class, that teacher, the one who had made all the difference to me. He asked me for a copy of the essay for his own, that it was so good he wanted to put it amongst the highlights of that course. I kept the marked up one and gave him a new one. And as my reward he gave me his own book of poetry, with a gorgeous inscription about a “kindred spirit” and wishing me the best in life.

We have ALL had a teacher, at some point, who has made THAT MUCH of a difference to us. Sarah’s too young yet to have had hers, but it will come, and when it happens, we’ll be able to tell from the gleam in her eye that she’s arrived at that pinnacle of her education career where someone has touched her mind in a way that she never thought possible.

For some people, our teachers, those who make us reach incredible heights, might be a parent or friend or someone else we admire beyond words. But either way, it happens. If it hasn’t happened for you yet, regardless of your age, it will!

Teachers have a wonderful place in our lives, as one of the few people who will share some responsibility for molding our minds and opening our hearts and eyes to wonder.

(I encourage you, if you're interested, to click on the links I've provided to Hemingway and Faulkner and Deconstruction Theory - all good fun!)

Finding Family.....

2009-06-12T08:51:00.004-04:00

There are few among us who could possibly understand what it's like.

On one hand, you were chosen by someone. Someone PICKED you ahead of others. Something about you drew them to you and they decided to make you their family. That is special.

But in the back of your mind, the nagging question "why"? The nagging hurt. The thirst for answers. The need to know the reasons why someone else chose to LEAVE you.

So picked on one hand, and abandoned on the other. Life as an oxymoron.

I am speaking, of course, about adoption. Amazingly, almost every quarter of my family life has a story within it about adoption, abandonment, and inevitably finding family. Some of the stories are happy, and some verge on tragic. Some are very private and quiet, while others are very open, honest, and wonderful.

Rarely in each of these family units has every single sibling been able to "get on board" with the finding. Some are on awhile and then fall off. Some don't understand or even try. Others try but fail. And still others embrace it for what it is: a chance to know the person who for whatever reason got left behind.

I won't tell tales that I haven't been given permission to tell. But a relative of mine has found a second family and for the most part it has been wonderful. At the very least he has a very loving sister and his children have cousins who are unmistakeably related - and there is much love.

Another relative had to give a child up and had to endure the pain of finding and losing said child not once but thrice as they could not resolve too many past differences, and said relative's subsequent children could not [all] reconcile themselves to it. It has been too painful to watch; too much heartache for both parties.

Still others have never sought. My dad was not raised by his mother, but by a step-mother he called Mom. He never had much interest in knowing the "other side". My mom and I tried to delve in to it, but we hit roadblocks and kind of abandoned it. And since my dad didn't feel it was worthy of our time or effort, it didn't feel as important as other searches. In a way, that is painful too. But on the other hand, it could just be that he was happy with the idea of his step-mother choosing him and his father. Maybe he doesn't have a burning desire to know. Or maybe he does and we'll never know.

The stories are all intense. All involve someone wonderful "stepping up" in light of the reality and being a wonderful partner or parent. But none is so wonderful, emotional, or mysterious as my mother's adoption story.

My mom was one of 5 siblings and one on the way in 1945, at the end of the second world war.

The men were coming home from the fight. How many of these came home to unexpected children where the math simply didn't add up?

That was what happened in my mom's case. He came home to his own three daughters, plus a boy and a girl and one on the way that were clearly not his.

We have no idea what happened. But in the end, the man took his three daughters "home" to England, the boy and the girl were taken away, and the baby was born and adopted in infancy.

My mother was almost 5 when Doug and Eva Jackson "chose" her. She grew up knowing full well that she was adopted. She grew up knowing that she'd had a first family, but some of the memories faded, only to come back as she dug in to find the truth much later.

In about 1977, my mother found first her brother, who at 5 at the time of the "abandonment" never got adopted. He had found their birth mother some years earlier, and had reestablished contact intermittently with the sisters in England. But though he was interested, he was unable to embrace the whole idea of new family, of my sister and I as nieces, of my mother has his baby sister. He cares, but there is definitely a wall. And I certainly understand it. At 5, the pain would not have dulled over time. Instead, the feral nature of the feelings of being ripped from hearth and home and happiness and security would last forever. A five year old can not reason. A five year old ONLY knows that they are being left behind, taken away, punished for unseen reason. So if he can't let down his guard, it's because of a life of feeling left behind and of feeling punished for something that was never his doing or responsibility.

Through her brother my mom got in touch with her own mother. From about 1978-1985 there was a "relationship". Dana and I called her grandma. We dressed in her jewelry and posed for silly pictures. We fed her bird. We ate her lemon meringue pie. We visited pretty much every weekend. And we got few answers. The shame of it for me is that I was too young to ask questions of my own, to push for details where they were lacking. At the time, my mom was just so happy to get "something" that she didn't think to ask for more; and she had no reason to believe that the details she was getting weren't the truth. But there were gaps. And no answers forthcoming for that.

When had her husband gone back to England with the girls? Where was she when Children's Aid took the two small children? Why didn't she talk about the baby girl? Where did she have the baby girl? Who was the father (or fathers) in question?

Eventually, the relationship faltered. Lots of reasons for it, as in most cases when it happens. Eventually the weight of the truth (or lack of it) bubbles to the surface and makes it hard to just sit and have small talk. But also, people who have found another sometimes get a sense of entitlement that doesn't exist in reality; they want to be "the" brother, "the" mother. "the" daughter, "the" grandmother. And that could hurt the other side: the chosen side. And people don't understand. And so a rift grows. Words are said. Sides are chosen. And the tentative strands of a relationship fall apart, disintegrate under the weight of the pain and questions that still remain.

But then.
Then a few years later, with all of generation one (those who left behind and those who chose) gone, the ability to seek answers becomes slightly less painful, slightly more urgent. Records are sought; distant family is approached for truth. The tendrils of inquiry are sent out to the rest who are left behind. Someone sees an internet family tree. Sends an email. Poses the question.

And the next thing you know, there are nieces and nephews and nephews-in-law and grandnieces and nephews and babies on the way, and children and family resemblances and similar humours to share and undeniably, you've found family!

None of that uncomfortable stuff. Those who embrace it want to know the truth; believe what truth there is, desire to know a family they just realized was there. Suddenly a connection to a deceased parent, to a place they heard about but have never experienced. Suddenly a cousin who quickly becomes the huge pain in the butt she always would have been had you the opportunity to grow up knowing her (I of course, being that cousin).

My sister Dana and I had NO cousins. None. We had no aunts or uncles. We had each other, and that was it (so she got me as the pain in the butt - poor thing!). We have each taken turn weaving in and out of the various degrees of our mom's searching. We've both been on board at different times or staunchly removed at others (as Eva Jackson got closer to the end of her days, I became anti-anything related to pre-adoption. I was young and I felt it would be disrespectful to the Grandma I admired so much).

But now here we are. And we have a RAFT of family in England! We have found my mother's sister Betty's children! And grandchildren! And one on the way! Most are happy for it. Others are tentative. It takes getting used to. Some never will. And that has to be respected.

But it's there. A brand new old family to learn about and tease and eventually meet and embrace for real.

And at the same time, the Ontario Adoption Records just opened, allowing adoptees to apply for "the truth" which my mom has done and hopes to find even more answers in.

It's strange and wonderful. Yes, we must tread carefully. There's a lot of past there to wade through. Not everyone's going to be as thrilled. And some may weave in and out as we have done in turn.

But right now, my mom, my sister and myself are all connected to England. And it's wonderful stuff. A sense of history. A sense of belonging. A family.

I can't wait to meet you, family!
Thanks mom, for doing the grunt work, for finding these funny and great and wonderful people!

Love to you all.

Sometimes commercial companies DO really do some good....

2009-05-01T10:30:00.007-04:00

My dear friend Julie is all about too much consumerism, and helping others increase their awareness of those times when companies manipulate us under the guise of "trying to help". You know, the formula companies sending their product to underdeveloped nations to "help" mothers feed their babies (there are all kinds of ways from Sunday to argue how that is very backhanded "helping"). And other instances: "Buy our product and we'll donate one dollar to the cancer society." "Use this coupon for this food and the kids' help phone will get our support." "Buy this kids' meal and we'll support the hospital for sick children." Etc etc etc. The whole thing is designed to push a button in you, the emotional, nurturing self, in order to get you to buy their product. Sure, they may have done something decent along the pathway to consumer dollars, but still the bottom line was that you bought THEIR product and not another companies'.

However.

I truly believe that there is a time when that level of branding can do GOOD in the world. In this instance I am speaking specifically about the Dove Sleepover for Self Esteem, which takes place tomorrow evening at 7:00. It is a completely free event, hosted by Dove (okay, yes, Unilever Canada) and YTV and WTV (okay, yes, Corus Entertainment won't be hurting by doing it either).

It is an event whereby Mothers and Daughters and Aunties and Cousins and Nieces and Friends are encouraged to come together, to have a sleepover, to do girlie things that make us feel special, to get into our jammies, and watch an endearing movie about strength and fortitude and women(girls) standing up for themselves. There is a pre-show and all of the "commercial slots" go back to a host who is at a (probably studio set) sleepover, and who brings up some of the issues with a group of girls. There is also a very good website (link above) where you can download discussion ideas, invitations, games and recipe suggestions.

I suppose if I were to be fair, there are a couple of minor issues. First of all, yes yes yes, I had to buy some product in order to fully "play the game of participation". But that was my own decision, and I thought it was a good idea. Buy a couple of Dove products and get PJ bottoms for the event. Why not? I need shampoo anyway, don't I? So I did it. I bought into it and sent away for the pants. A couple of minor mishaps later, Sarah and I both have pants! And okay, yeah, I get it. But it's all part of the adventure for us, so I think it's okay.

Also, we (Craig and I) ended up falling into the trap last year by accident (in other words, there was nothing else on). To our mind it seemed like a really good idea and a really nice thing to do for young girls, but the host was over the top and dare I say it? Hokey. She was a hokey, silly woman. BUT, the idea was a solid one. So I said that maybe this year Sarah would be old enough and it could be something we could do together. AND, I am actually quite excited. This year's host is a younger woman (that was problem one last year), can identify with the kids better, and is someone anyone who has ever watched TV for kids has seen. She is likeable, and most importantly, I like her. I encourage you to look her up here. She is bound for big things.

Well, here it is. We're going to my sister's house, we're taking our jammies and cream soda and nachos and stuff for facials and pedicures. We're going to watch the pre-show and Ella Enchanted on YTV. With luck my niece Kelsey will stick around (Sarah would LOVE that!). I'll ask Sarah what she thinks of the content (questions about friends who tell secrets, exclude people, show off, bully, etc). I'll sit with her and put my arm around her and enjoy every moment. I'll dance with her and get goofy with her. I'll let her stay up late.

I'll let her be on a self-esteem high; where she is the center of attention and she feels special.

That, to me, is what it's all about. I know Dove will make money on the thing. They'll get recognition. Their very target group will be impressed with them and therefore purchase their product as that emotional button is pushed.

BUT, my girl, and countless others like her, all across the country, will all be sitting down together to build stronger relationships with each other. They'll be working on better understanding how other girls think and act. They'll come away from it maybe feeling a little more confidant in their role - understanding that feelings they have are shared by every other girl their age. They'll feel good. And their moms, aunts, and grandmas might understand them a bit better too.

So isn't that what it's all about? Doesn't that make it worth it?

I think it does. I think that sometimes, every now and then, sneaky ad campaigns to get us to buy in actually DO help us and society.

What about you? What do you think?

*Overturning the Tables written by Julie Kinkaid, United Church Publishing House 2008. Designed by Diane Renault-Collicott.

There Can Be NO Debate....

2009-04-07T14:18:00.012-04:00

None.
None at all.

Just TRY to tell me that there is a more famous band or musician, ever, than The Beatles.

Go ahead. Try.

But you'd be wrong.

Now, usually I am able to have a conversation of give and take, one where I offer my opinion, make my strongest argument, but take the feedback I am presented with and consider all the facts. If I've been particularly stubborn I might even go away and think awhile and then come back with a concession or two. Maybe even the "You were Right and I was Wrong and Now I Have to Sing a Song" song and an apology.

But not this time. Uh-unh. No way.

The Beatles are, hands down, no argument, the best and most famous band of all time.

Fact: More than 40 number one hits. That is only as the collective. That says nothing of the solo albums produced before and after the break-up of 1970. It says nothing of Wings or The Traveling Wilburys or Imagine.
Fact: 74 MILLION viewers watched them that first time they appeared on Ed Sullivan on February 9, 1964.
Fact: 6 full-length studio albums in 5 years, from 1960-1965. And 15 in the span of only 8 years. No wonder they burnt out in a decade.

There is still new merchandise produced with The Beatles likenesses, from all eras of their fabulous career. In September of this year a video game called Rock Band will be released, based on The Fab Four.

There are hundreds of video grabs posted on You Tube of them as The Beatles, of each of them separately, and of their various weavings in and out of each other's music. There are also scenes of their many films, and it appears, tons of old super 8 footage that someone has got their hands on and put up.

There are countless DVD's. They still have an active webpage and ALL 4 members have their own website in their name.

Yes, people, they are THE most famous band of all time.

But you want to know why ELSE I know this?

Because my 7 year old knows almost all of their music. Sarah knows who Richard Starkey is and that Paul McCartney is a "Sir". She knows that John Lennon and George Harrison have "perished" (her word for died), and that Paul is still handsome even though he is now a Grandpa. She knows about the 5th Beatle, even though she can't say who that is (and I don't think anyone else can either, though there is tons of debate. Was it Pete Best? Was it Phil Epstein? Was it George Martin? Is that another blog? Probably!). She knows that one of my favourite songs of all time is Eleanor Rigby, and she will not get out of bed weekday mornings before hearing "The Beatles for Breakfast" on our local Classic Rock station Q107. Which also has a "Beatles Break" which tickles Sarah no end.

And now, this same 7 year old, is doing her first school project on The Most Famous Band of All Time. And I have permitted her to say as much. Because it's a fact I believe unequivocally.

Want to argue with me about it? I could go all day?

Okay - you're entitled to your opinion. You are. But this one time, just this once, you've got to admit:

The Beatles are the best group of all time.
Okay?

Really, it's not that unusual.

2009-04-06T09:14:00.003-04:00

Yep, ladies and gentlemen, it's snowing out there.

Supposed to snow for three solid days.

People are freaking out. People are depressed. People feel betrayed.

But really, it's just not that unusual.

I remember when niece Kelsey was born on April 22, 1991. Mom and I drove up the 410 in the wee hours of the morning and had a laugh because it seemed that every time we drove that route to be present for the birth of my sister's child, it snowed. Yes, it was snowing on April 22. And cold. After Kelsey was born we stood outside in the parking lot talking to her Dad Tom and we froze. I wished I had gloves. It was disgusting.

I also remember that first Jay's game. I remember that it snowed. Seen lots of images over the year of trying to find a white ball on a white outfield. How during points of the game the cameras couldn't even pick up the players in the outfield. Nuts.

And at the same time, there's always a last gasp, isn't there? JUST as we think we're past it. Just as we think we can take the snowtires off the car or put the boots into the back of the closet, bang! It gets us.

Carina says it is mother nature's late April fool's joke on us. That's a good way of putting it.

So it's Monday, which is bad enough. And it's cold, which we're all tired of. And NOW it's snowing on top of that.

Yuck.

But don't be shocked. Stranger things have happened. And with luck, this week WILL be Mother Nature's last gasp at the snow thing. And then we can FINALLY move on to Spring. And the promises therein.

With luck.

Have a good day all. Keep warm. And drive carefully.

Finally Blogging About Lost

2009-04-04T10:35:00.002-04:00

All this time I have been blogging, I have managed to avoid the whole subject of that greatest of shows Lost. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that there are excellent theorists out there with incredibly intelligent and thought-provoking blogs. So why muddy the waters?

Well, finally I feel like I must speak. Not because something happened that makes me have to speak out, but because I guess I feel that I 'thought' the show was going in one direction, and Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindeloff pulled a 180 on us! Me. Me personally.

If you haven't seen the show lately and you don't want to know, read no further. In "talking the thing out", I am going to be frank and likely slightly spoilerific.

So.

Here we are approaching the big ramp up to the season 5 finale. The producers (Cuse, Lindeloff) have already named an end date of May 2010 for the end of the show. They did this last year at the end of the writer's strike, and when ratings were at an all-time low, and possibly at the start of the recession. Lost is a pricey show to produce.

I don't want to suggest that Lost has low ratings. It certainly is a very successful show. But for it's price, being shot in Hawaii, all those sets and extras and props and effects, it was getting costly. So Cuse and Lindeloff said, okay, we need 28 more episodes to tell this story and bring it to a satisfactory close. They were given the green light by home network ABC.

And the show picked up speed.

There were still character-centric episodes, but not one after another the way they once had been. The episodes seemed driven to telling the necessary details, like why Sayid is the way he is, why Kate kept Aaron for three years and then arrived at the decision to give him to his grandmother and return to the Island, like why Sawyer defends the Dharma Initiative now.

And the rest was the "Lost Lore", answering all those burning questions we've died to know these past 4 years. And we're getting our answers now. They're coming. Slowly leaking out like a painfully slow leak in a life raft.

First thing's first. Everyone wonders why Sawyer isn't as protective of his returning Losties as he should be. Everyone seems to forget that he only knew those people 108 days. Sure that shaped things to come, but he's been living la vida loca now for three solid years; found love and a life of respect and honesty. He's grown up. He's happy. So no freaken wonder the guy went WTF when they came back. I would too. And now we know that it is their return that is the thing that screws everything up. If they'd stayed away it would be fine. But no. They came back and started a cycle of events that it seems to me unravels the entire thing. THEY are the reason Ben Linus is eeeeevil with 5 e's.

So Sawyer and Juliet have my sympathies. Which is strange. Because until this last episode, I was for Jack. Not now. Unwitting though it might have been, Jack's refusal to operate on Little Ben is what drives Kate to take Ben to The Others. I know he didn't mean to, but he did. And that is what causes everything they've all been through for the last 4 years of their lives.

The only question is, what role does Christian Sheppard play in all of this? Clearly his body got smokey-ized, probably same with Claire and a good number of "the others". But why was it so important for him to get Jack back there to create such havoc? Maybe Widmore IS a truly bad dude. Shucks anyway. I wanted to be right about something.

But Cuse and Lindeloff have it in for me. Every single time I have come up with a theory I thought was strong and potential, they've done the whole Neslon Muntz "nahh-haaa" thing to me and left me feeling completely deflated. So now I have no idea. None. And it isn't sitting well with me. Because the rosy end to this saga, the end where people live happily ever after, I'm thinking was a utopia I built up in my head and it doesn't exist.

I've always thought Jack and Sayid to be the ultimate heroes of the show, despite being the most blemished and needing the most rehabilitation from past sins. But seems that it is Sawyer was destined for this. Spent 4 years being cynical, bitter, and slightly sneaky. Now it's him that can potentially save the world. Not my chosen heroes. Those guys are as faulty as the day the show premiered in 2004. And I am mourning this fact. Because I WANTED them to be redeemed. I wanted them to end up happy and fulfilled. But how can they now? Sayid shot a child. He drives Ben to The Others, back handedly. Richard Alpert said his innocense is gone. Sayid can't be redeemed now. Not knowing what Ben ends up growing up to do.

Same with Jack. He's trying, lord he's trying, to be careful not to do anything that backfires. And yet, there it is. He just did it. He did the one thing he was trying precisely to avoid. And once he knows it, he SHOULD be suicidal (again). He's as culpable as Sayid.

Diane made the point that they all end up having culpability in it. Kate, Sawyer, Jin, Juliet. All take part in driving Ben to Richard Alpert. None of them are willing to let him just die. True. But it wasn't any of them CAUSED Ben to need to be taken to The Temple.

So now I am completely turned around. Now I am wondering ever so slightly what the point is. They've come back and screwed up Sawyer and Juliet's utopia. They've turned Ben into the eeeeevil guy he'll forever be. They've made a mockery out of everything they were trying gallantly to do and be. And now none of them will be happy.

'Cause Phil the Security Guy has been hanging in the wings, noticing something reeks of the fishing docks at the end of a hot day. He's gettin' ready to pounce, which suggests to me a bad end for someone I care about.

I dunno. I've always ridden this roller coaster which is Lost, and I always will. I am in it until the end - so invested that nothing can drive me away. But I am feeling insecure about it at the moment. I am not sure I'm going to like it when the end comes. And I am POSITIVE that the season finale in May is going to make me Scream Out Loud and want to hurt the TV set.

I will spend the summer tearing my hair out. Of that I am certain.

So in that respect, a total smashing success for Cuse and Lindeloff.

And then I will have to own the whole series on DVD.

So thanks a lot Damon Lindeloff and Carlton Cuse, and JJ Abrahams, and Matthew Fox, Josh Holloway, Jorge Garcia, Daniel Dae Kim, Naveen Andrews, Evangeline Lilly, Michael Emmerson, Nestor Carbonell, Elizabeth Mitchell. Thanks a lot, gang. From the bottom of my skeptical heart.

Who da fool now, fool?

2009-04-01T08:27:00.003-04:00

April 1st.

April Fool's Day

An "event" that is participated the world over, and has been celebrated for hundreds of years. People have been "goofin'" on each other in good fun forever. To break the cycle of boring ole' dark and cold winter. To bring on the feeling and energy of Spring. To make others laugh. To releive stress. To be stupid and funny and in some backward way, to let others know you love them. The top 100 tricks of all time can be viewed here.

Craig has done some doozies to me over the years, and I have held my own pretty well against him.

The best ones involved pouring freezing water over my head while in the shower. He waited until I was rinsing my hair, so my face was pointing up. He stood on the ledge with a milk pitcher and let 'er rip.

Of course there's been soap on the toothbrush as well. But I am better at that one than he is. I very carefully filled the bristles with hand soap once. It took days for the taste and froth to dissipate. And the other one I am very proud of was the time I put a dollop of hand soap into his mouthwash cup. He tossed it in, threw his head back, and gargled. And I about DIED when the bubbles started erupting from his mouth and dribbling down the sides of his face. He didn't know what was happening at first. But I was hysterical. My sides ached from that one.

We've been pretty harmless to each other though. There are people who pull real cruel pranks on one another. Mean stuff. Harmful stuff. I am not up for any of that.

The best joke I ever played at work was on an old colleague - I turned everything in his office upside down (that could be turned upside down, that is - a monitor is a little more difficult!). But all his memos, magnets, books, shelves, chatchkies, all upside down.

Then SAME guy (Gord) got me back with the holes from a three-hole punch. An envelope, bursting with multi-coloured confetti, placed just so in my overhead bin. When I opened it in the morning to get a tea bag, it poured out and over my head and desk and floor and in my eyes and hair and mouth. It elicited the exact reaction the jokesters wanted from me; I screamed bloody murder (it does things to one's heart having something fly out at them, even something little and fluffy like hole-punch-holes!). It also elicited the exact effect - it was weeks before I got those holes cleaned up. And in fact, when I moved offices a YEAR later I found dozens when I was moving stuff.

So what's left? I know my colleague Carina was going to play one on the boss this morning, but I only have guesses as to what it was. Something to instil panic in him for a moment, methinks. Till she would laugh, he would realize the date, and they would share a chuckle (and relief).

Craig hasn't zoomed me yet, but it's in him. We have a date tonight - first in forever. (Seriously, I can't remember the last one). He could "pretend" to cancel or be stuck in a meeting. But his track record is so bad that I wouldn't find that funny. Hmmmm, maybe the whole date is the joke. No.....he knows that wouldn't be funny and that the result would be a nice fat envelope delivered to him in a week or so (ha ha ha). I do think he might be up to something, though. And part of me WANTS him to be up to something.

Because he's got a wayyy devilish grin when he's being immature and goofy. And I miss that guy! 'Cause being responsible adults and parents is taxin' on a body. But that's another blog!

So good goofin', everyone! Have a good one! But keep it fun, and play safe [wink]!

Butterfly Effect and Consumerism - Post in Enough Stuff

2009-03-25T08:50:00.002-04:00

Go here now. Click this link OR look over to the side and see it there in my "cool places" list.

But go. Now. Read.

http://enough-stuff.blogspot.com/

This stuff is important people! And Julie has a way of putting things.

It's really time to take the negative economic climate and turn it in to something thought-provoking and good on so many levels. We were getting crazy with the spending and the "stuff" and the toll on the environment, our pocket-books, AND the creation of the "must have" society. It's not too late for any of us, but especially the next generation.

So go and read it.

Oh. And don't forget Earth Hour on Saturday at 8:30 pm! (see post below!)

Earth Hour: Meaningful or Bandaid Solution?

2009-03-16T11:02:00.005-04:00

On Saturday March 28, 2009 at 8:30 p.m. (est), we're being asked to once again turn out the lights to celebrate mother earth and take part in a one-hour break for her tired vessel.

Earth Hour. Ideally, one should unplug the phone and the computer and clock radio and the microwave and everything that sucks power even when not in use. The only thing we didn't touch last year was the fridge. Everything else got not only shut off and shut down, but completely unplugged. We were virtually off the grid.

Better than that, we started it at about 5:30. We barbequed our meal, ate by candlelight (even though it wasn't quite dark - but in order to play it up for the benefits of the kids), read stories by candlelight, brushed teeth by flashlight, and each of the kids got to take a flashlight to bed with them. Then it was about 7:30, so we just left the lights off. And then at 9, we continued to read by candlelight. It was so nice - so peaceful. Sitting in the living room, reading by soft light, glass of wine at our side. We just didn't want it to end. At bedtime, we went to bed much the way the kids had - brushed teeth by candlelight, carried it to the top of the stairs, and blew it out after we changed. It was nice - turning the lights off mid-evening and leaving them off till the next morning.

The week following Earth Hour was as interesting as the weeks leading up to it. Everyone was asked whether they participated and how they spent the time. Families played board games by candlelight, sat together looking out over the darkened city, or went places that were celebrating "lights out". But along with the celebratory mood came the inevitable questions: What difference had it made? Had it just been for show or was it a palpable plea? Was there anything saved by doing it or was it just an inconvenience?

I was a little astonished when I saw some of the comments online about it. It offended me to see people my age proclaim it as stupid or meaningless. It bothered me to see and hear pessimists say it was a nice enough thing to do but would make no difference in Global Warming or the world's insatiable hunger for fuel. It made me sad to think that other parents didn't think THEY could make a difference in the world they'd be handing down to their children one day. And then I wondered, if the parents weren't making some form of attempt, what was that teaching their kids? Not to bother? That one voice is pointless?

I guess that's when I started reacting to things I was hearing that seemed counterproductive to the whole pursuit of environmental well-being. You know, people who violently react to wind turbines (see post about 3 down from here), or people not bothering to recycle because it makes no difference. Or people looking for excuses to not do their part.

I think about everything I waste for the first time in my life. Okay, so I have always been a bit of a energy saving nut; back in grade seven or so we got stickers about turning off light switches when not in use, and I plastered the entire apartment with them, much to the chagrin of my parents and building management! But now it feels different. I stopped drinking water out of plastic bottles. I embraced the liquor bottle recycle program whole-heartedly, I reuse hand soap dispensers until they crack or break down. I wash the clothes in cold water. I'm using the dishwasher less and only when super-full. I am teaching the kids about wasting - water for brushing teeth, lights when not in the room, keeping the door open and letting heat escape, etc. I love that my recycle bin is far larger than my garbage bin, and I aim to make sure that there is less and less in the garbage bin too. I think about items I buy when I see how much extraneous packaging they have, and I don't buy anything that's going to be landfill inside of a month.

So what difference does Earth Hour make? Does it make a difference at all?

Well, I guess that depends on how you use it. If you use it as a spring board for discussing global warming with the kids, if you use it as a way to start being more intentional in how much you waste (or save), if you use it to open dialogue with your family and friends about other ways to save fuel or water or produce less waste, then I would say Earth Hour is incredibly helpful, beyond even what it's initial intention is meant to be.

But if you do the hour, comment on the one guy down the street with the lights on and say "see? It doesn't mean anything!" and refuse to see any of the other (real and also potential) good in it, then I guess it doesn't make a difference.

Something I have learned is that ONE PERSON CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE! Especially if that one person makes said difference with a billion other one persons. Especially if those billion other one persons are THEN imparting the wisdom and reasoning of their participation with their children, who WILL take it to heart and WILL see that a dozen little steps add up to something meaningful, and who DO learn by example.

I plan to take part in this Earth Hour and every one from here on out. I plan to ask others to join in too. I plan on continuing to support government objectives in alternative fuel sources. I plan on continuing to use less and save more, with open dialogue the whole journey through with Sarah and James. I plan on being thoroughly disgusted with narrow minded individuals who post on websites that it is nothing but a waste of time, and I'll likely say as much, too!

And we are, by the way, using cloth napkins at home now. Except for on Rib Night. [grin]

So, are you and yours participating in Earth Hour or not?

(note, all links to earth hour are different ones. Try them out! Try some of the tips out. It can be an awesome adventure!)

The Electric Company!

2009-02-18T15:08:00.003-05:00

No, not the one that powers the lights.

The show. The show that ran from 1971 - 1977 and has been resurrected for today's kids.

Heyyyyy Youuuuuu Guyyyyyyys......

I remember the first go-round so well that when Sarah ran upstairs one Saturday morning to say "hey mom, there is a new show on TVO kids that is fun AND educational and you should come see it", I took one look at it and something whispered into the recesses of my mind "Electric Company". It had the feel. Notsomuch the look (it is after all 35 years later, I admit chokingly!)

Sure enough, within seconds, it identified itself.

Oh how I loved that show! So much that Hey You Guys was said (yelled in that gravelly voice) by me several dozen times a day. So much so that I never forgot that it was how Morgan Freeman, easily one of Hollywood's 25 Best Actors of All Time, got his start as Cool Cat. So much so that seeing the old show-opener online again after so many years brought back instant memories. I loved that show. I loved Sesame Street but would be equally excited when it ended and Electric Company came on.

Now, I know that the reason it's back is because once again the statistics show that early reading levels are at an all time low. And that's too bad. But on the other hand, the show helped once so I bet it will help again.

And it's just so darned funny and entertaining too! The main guy raps, another guy does beat box sounds and sounds of other kinds as well, they sing, and there is always a main story woven in to the "variety" show aspect. And well, we watched one episode together and Sarah knew from that moment on when a word had a "soft C" or a "hard C".

Now we have a standing date for 9:30 a.m on Saturday mornings. And I wouldn't miss it.

But to think that at first I actually told Sarah I was busy doing some "stuff around the house" until I looked at her little cherub face and saw that she was sad that I wouldn't take a look. I didn't want to be that mom. So I took her hand, expecting to go down into the family room and go "oh, yes, that's really good! I'm glad you found a new show to watch" and then go back to my chores. Instead, I got taken back, had a good chuckle, sat down on the futon and patted the seat beside me in invitation.

I highly recommend it. Sarah needs all the help she can get, and it appears to be working. But even for other kids, it's just fun. And funny. And it's problem-solving on so many levels.

So tune in! And enjoy! Sit down with the kids and be taken back. And well, you'll be sitting down with the kids instead of laundry or something else that prevents you from sitting down with the kids.

And then come back here and let me know what you (all) thought!

Have fun, "....youuuuuuuu guyyyyyyyyyys"

Here's the Facts, and nothin' but the Facts:

2009-02-10T13:36:00.004-05:00

It's inevitable. We ARE going to be leaving this world. We are going to leave it, and whatever we mess we made WILL be left to the children. No ifs ands or buts about it. So here's the deal. If we CARE about our children, nieces and nephews, cousins, or friend's kids, then WE have a responsibility to do something about it while we can.

Last week I had a letter to the editor printed in the Metro newspaper, in response to an article written by a columnist about the proposed Wind Turbine project off the shore of Ashbridge's Bay in The Beach. Said columnist is against such an action by Ontario Hydro. She called the turbines "an eyesore" as well as an "ugly collection of industrial clutter." She said they should be put in some nice remote area. She said they were going to "mar" the lovely shoreline we've worked so hard to beautify in recent years. I got mad. Livid, in fact. I could not believe what I was reading. I couldn't fathom that this was a person who gave a single thought to what she had written, who was putting asthetics ahead of necessity. So here is what I said in response:

re: "Wind Farm Would be an Ugly Mistake" by April Lindgren, Jan. 30, 2009.

I can't believe what I am hearing.
First on 680 News and now reading in your paper.
Windmills as EYESORES??!?!?!?

I am SHOCKED and dismayed. Absolutely. It astounds me to read and hear such nonsense from people, who apparently and by all evidence have absolutely NO sense.

"Collection of ugly industrial clutter"? That will "haunt generations to come"? Apparently you have never traveled to Europe and seen windmill after windmill after windmill, dotting the landscape and sending the message that something is being attempted to save mother earth. Off the shoreline in Copenhagen they are ever-present. And NOT an eyesore. What are you thinking when you say these things? Do you honestly think they are so much more heinous to look at than the smoke stacks dotting the skyline and spewing their black toxins in to our city and water? It is time for us to realize that we are at the point in our evolution that we MUST seek alternatives to gas and oil. Harnessing what already exists in nature is not monstrous, it's beautiful. Let's please be responsible about this, and teach the children that these ideas are not something we "hide" in rural areas (since we're the power guzzlers right here), but something that we fit in to our lives right here, get used to, and see the benefit of. I say yes to wind turbines in my water. I'd much rather hear them than the hum of other types of electric generators. I'd rather see them than smoke-stacks. I hope so fervently that detractors come around. Our world depends on it.

I felt better after. A little.

But that's not the first time I have heard something of an environmental nature that has made my skin crawl. Friend Aaron over in Alma's Soulfood (see my sidebar for a link!) speaks of the many cities and towns that have outlawed clotheslines. Add to that the people I've heard say: "yeah, I don't want to see anyone's granny panties wavin' in the breeze while I'm sipping my morning coffee."

Or how about the people who think it's taking it too far if one adopts the "if it's brown, send it down, if it's yellow, leave it fellow" theory of toilet flushing? I mean REALLY. I keep my toilet bowls clean. But I don't need to send 10 litres of water down there every time James has one of his teensy wee boy pees. Do I?

I am not entirely there. I have some issues with cleaners (as in, use powerful, stinky ones. Have an impossible-to-keep-clean kitchen floor that I am after CONSTANTLY, and I have to let go of the idea that powerful smell equals powerful clean). But I am letting go, slowly. I don't use fabric softener anymore. I use cool or cold water to wash, and I air-dry lots. I fill up the machine. We use the dishwasher only a couple of times a week. I try to buy less packaging and I recycle everything allowable. I've taken to pulling tissues out of the garbage. I use old tea towels to clean my windows and dust, not swiffers or paper towel. I buy the large rolls of toilet tissue and teach the kids to use less of it. I talk about turning the lights off in rooms not in use, as well as not letting the water run for any length of time.

I know I am not doing enough and that I could be doing more. But I DO think of myself as a "green" person, so if I can admit that I am NOT doing enough, then what are the people who aren't nearly as green as me doing? Not their share, that's for sure. Not enough for their kids or grandkids. Not enough considering that each of us in this part of the world has created something like 5 tonnes of garbage PER PERSON.

I dunno. Maybe it's just me. But seems to me if you're going to make some of the mess, you gotta clean some of it up. I mean, isn't that what we teach the kids? You make a mess, you clean it. You make a mistake, you own it. You do something wrong, you work to make it right. So why all the hypocrites? You think this world owes you something? Because my dear, sad, friend, it owes you NOTHING. It's given you water and sunshine and nice things to eat and see and smell. It's sustained you and yours for generations. It's held up your home and car and given you a job (in my case, literally. My own juxtaposition is caring about an environment when the industry I work in rapes the moraine on a daily basis!) It owes YOU nothing, friend. You owe IT your life.

So my challenge is for each of us to do a tiny bit extra this week. Something we wouldn't normally do. Then in a month or so, add something else. And so forth until you're living greener. Use vinegar to clean the windows. Use baking soda to clean the sink. Use less paper towels and napkins.

Aha! Eureka, I just thought of my contribution. My kids are rabid napkin users. I am going to go home and drag out 8 linen napkins, and we're going to use those at supper time. I have them in my drawer! I might as well make use of them!

What's your contribution, dear reader?

I woke up in the rain....

2009-02-04T10:48:00.002-05:00

......the rumble of thunder reverberated through the ground under me. Another flash. Lightening seemed to burn in to my eyes. As consciousness seeped in to my being, I realized I was wet - my back, my legs. Oh damn, the tent has a hole in it!!

The deep feeling of loneliness grew more palpable with the knowledge that my safe haven was against me. So much for the idea of running away to the wilderness to collect my thoughts, have some peace, do some reading and writing, and give myself a good stern talking to. Now it seemed obvious that The Plan would have to be abandoned and I would have to go home. My heart sunk.

No one was there. Wouldn't be for another 5 days. My time away was to have been double that. It was part of the deal. There wasn't money enough for me to get a room for all that time. And that was contrary to the whole idea of me getting away to collect myself. To find myself. To take many deep breaths in order to steel myself to continue to live my life.

No one was around. Not a soul within hearing distance. And who would hear me if I did have a much-desired tantrum? Who would hear against the raging patter of sheets of cold rain? Against the wind that threatened to tear the tent from over me? More lightening. I jumped. The tears began to flow freely down my cheeks and I didn't bother to wipe them away or blow my nose. I wallowed self-pityingly. Why not? It WAS unfair! I had worked for MONTHS on this plan. Had practically threatened that if it didn't come to fruition something more drastic was bound to happen. I finally got my way. And yet......now it was crashing down around me, my plan to reclaim my grip on my life.

I yelled. And yelled. And screamed. And cursed. And threw anything dry back into my back pack. Got dressed hastily. Grabbed my cash and the most valuable of my belongings. My car keys. Put on my rain jacket, a baseball cap, and steeled myself for the onslaught of water that would hit as I ran to the car. My more logical self tried to calm me, to make me wait at least until the rain wasn't coming down so hard; but I wouldn't listen. I was inconsolable and stubborn. And completely bereft of a plan......

In Answer to a Puzzle.

2009-01-26T11:29:00.002-05:00

Not that it matters to me. It really doesn't. I don't care one wit who the new US President, Barack Obama, calls his God, or even if he has one.

But.

Detractors of his have said that he is "Muslim born and raised." Thinking that to be untrue, I looked into it. And I read that while his father was born into a Muslim household in Kenya, he himself (Barack Sr.) had rejected all religion before going to the US in the '60s for University. So, unless Barack Obama's (Jr.) mother was Muslim, seems that he wasn't raised Muslim.

So I found this on Wikipedia, confirmed by other reliable on-line sources, like Time:

"Obama is a Protestant Christian whose religious views have evolved in his adult life. In The Audacity of Hope, Obama writes that he "was not raised in a religious household." He describes his mother, raised by non-religious parents (whom Obama has specified elsewhere as "non-practicing Methodists and Baptists") to be detached from religion, yet "in many ways the most spiritually awakened person that I have ever known." He describes his father as "raised a Muslim," but a "confirmed atheist" by the time his parents met, and his stepfather as "a man who saw religion as not particularly useful." In the book, Obama explains how, through working with black churches as a community organizer while in his twenties, he came to understand "the power of the African-American religious tradition to spur social change."^[196]^[197] He was baptized at the Trinity United Church of Christ in 1988 and was an active member there for two decades."

That seems to explain it all. So while Obama discovered religion as a young adult, he did so on his own, and I guess it so happens that it was Protestantism. Not that it matters.

Because, so what if he HAD been Muslim?

I don't know that it matters. Except that if he were Muslim, that would spell even more trouble for him in areas where he remains somewhat unpopular. So in that case, I guess you could say it's a "good thing". Not that I want to say that.....but I hope readers know what I mean when I do.

But really, I long for the days when it isn't going to matter; when people aren't going to panic at the word "Muslim". Imagine - there WAS a time (and for that matter, still is on occasion) when even Catholics and Protestants (both Christian, too) lived in hate and fear of each other. Seems impossible to think of now, but it was once the norm everywhere. And yeah, even in my own lifetime I have heard such generalizations as "you know, those Irish-Catholics" and the like. But those get to be fewer and farther between, at least in my part of the world.

Hopefully, one day we'll get to a comfortable place with such "scary" words as "Islam" and "Muslim" and even "Middle East". One day it won't matter. I just hope, for the sake of the kids, that it's in this generation.

I like to remember (and sometimes, yes, even need to remind myself) that there are "bad guys" of all races, colours, religions, sexes, and sizes. There are people ALL over this great world of ours that are twisted. Some use religion as a crutch or excuse to resort to violence. Some use their hate of women, or children, or the poor (or even, in some cases, the rich).

The thing is, Barack Obama is one of those Heinz 57s, like a great many of us who live in North America. Yes, it's important that one half of that is African, just like it's important that he was raised in a white family and had to deal with the difference and confusion therein of his skin tone, that he had to find his identity in his own way, come to terms with who he is, and become comfortable in his own skin. It's all part of what made the man the incredible human being that he is. Part of what made him so strong and sure. And what the world needs is a leader of a country like the U.S. that is strong and sure. Of himself and of his convictions. And I believe Mr. Obama to be that person.

It's an amazing time we live in, and I hope for the sake of the children (mine, Barack and Michelle's, indeed everyone's) that it goes well and successfully. So many people have hinged a great deal of hopes onto his strong shoulders, so it just HAS to go alright.

So I have a wish. I tend to wish big via simplicity. A simple wish goes something like this: I wish that in 30 years time I am driving somewhere and hear on the radio some cute fluff news item about Obama being spotted on vacation or making some public appearance somewhere. It's a simple wish, but it actually takes care of a lot of niggling details. And I wish it more than anything right now. You know, for the kids. Mine, his, yours, and all those inner-city youth everywhere who walk around saying - and believing - Yes We Can.

And can we overcome whether or not a person's chosen or birthright religion is important? I believe that yes, we can.

A December to Remember!

2008-12-23T14:05:00.003-05:00

This has been a pretty cool month for me and mine.

We've been pretty lucky to get to do lots of exciting things.

We had a 7th birthday to end November, with a successful sleepover. It was a lot more fun than I anticipated it would be. Then we had Mattamy's kid's party, which was very full of fun and lots to do and eat, and it was good, even if it was just ever so slightly a tiny bit toooo good.

Then the Mom and the Dad got to do the night away thing for the Mattamy Holiday Gala. It was also very lovely, and I enjoyed sleeping in sans kids and dancing with Craig as we do but once a year, eating all fine foods and indulging (a tiny bit) in the chocolate fountain.

The VERY next day we had to pick up the Christmas Package from Greyhound. This would be the annual trek in to Toronto proper to the Greyhound Depot to get that lovely box from Calgary. THEN we got to go to see the Barenaked Ladies perform at Massey Hall. James was absolutely riveted. We were slightly late for it (and I felt so bad for days about that!) due to me mixing up concert start times (I get out so rarely that one sort of fused into another and I got confused). But there was a minor Christmas Miracle that I believe made up for it (in a way).

As we ate our lunch at a real old fashioned diner, there was an older couple behind us eating. Sarah kept stealing glances at him. Then when we got up to get ready, coats and hats and all, Sarah stared openly, whispering "could it be?" to herself. Then I hear a stifled giggle and "are you?" a little louder, as this man, a heavy-set man with white hair and beard, glasses, and resplendent in red shirt and black pants, stood and approached Sarah. He bent down to her level and asked her if she'd been good. "Is it YOU?"

"Well, what do YOU think?"

"It is.....James.....it's....it's....it's....SANTA CLAUS!"

They spoke a few minutes while I mouthed 'sorry' to the 'Mrs. Claus'. She said not to worry, that he loves it as much as they do. Then I thanked him very much and he said "have a wonderful Christmas". I could not believe it. Craig got verklempt. I got verklempt. Sarah tried to talk herself out of it but I could tell there was something magical.

So we were late for the concert. But in the end, it was still incredible. James was beside himself seeing the Barenaked Ladies. He loved it, playing the drums along with Tyler. He cheered for "Allergies" and "Eraser". He loved it all, and Sarah did too.

Then, wonder of wonders, I was downtown again only 3 days later for another concert. Could it be Duran Duran, after twenty-five years of wanting to see them? It was. It was amazing. Diane and her friend Sharon came, and Jennifer, who I was great dear friends with in high school but hadn't seen in many years, well she came too! And it was fabulous. Absolutely wonderful start to finish. I could not ask for more. It was a nice meal out before the show, good seats, and they were of course fabulous! The ego is gone - those men play for the love of it now, encouraging as much audience participation as the audience can handle. As for myself - cheering at Barenaked Ladies and then Duran Duran 3 days later did my voice in for a week afterward!! badge of honour as far as I am concerned.

That was all early in the month, but the rest of it has pretty much been like that too. Just really good and happy and contented. Lots of chances to share cheer with co-workers and friends. Very tired and looking forward to getting some rest later on. But even if I was practically falling over during the "Santa Experience" at the local mall (the kids sit by Santa as he reads, sings, plays tricks, and then they dance and get a moment on his lap to whisper in his ear), it was worth it to see Sarah and James having such a great time! I was a happy mommy, if not a tired one.

So now it's here. We opened gifts from Calgary (I have NEVER seen so many tinker toys in one bin), and a few from others as well. All wonderful wonderful stuff. Uncle Mark and Auntie Kathy happened by with Perfection (yay!), a Mister Potato Head, and a Boom Box for James. Very nice indeed. The kids and I got Craig a sport jacket, pants and shirt and they were perfect. So, so far so good.

Off to Mom and Dad's tonight, and Craig's Mom and Dad's Saturday. We're looking very forward to seeing siblings and our nieces as well. It is a time to remember how lucky we are to have parents and siblings and healthy children. There is much sadness in the world so we have many blessings to count.

All the best, everyone! See ya in the New Year!
k

My Wishes for the Year Ahead. I wish:

2008-12-15T08:42:00.000-05:00

I wish that there didn't have to be such peaks and valleys in this life.
It ought to be that a good run can last a good long time; so good in fact, that you actually get bored and find yourself wishing for something else. Something challenging, some kind of puzzle to work out, something to overcome. Instead, it seems like most of life is a challenge, exhausting you to the bitter core, a mental and physical bashing that takes so long to recover from that you MISS the peaks....so:

I wish that the peaks would last longer.
It should be that you can, with pure joy, grasp each moment of a child's development. Instead, you catch pieces here and there and as they get bigger, taller, smarter. The time flies so much so that when you're cuddling in the early hours of the day, you notice that his hand seems to have grown so big and so strong and so capable overnight. You hold that little hand, knowing it won't be little for long. You have a moment, willing and wishing to always recollect how he feels in the crook of your arm, his little big head heavy on you but seeming to fit perfectly. You know that you can't remember all the moments, but you long to hold on to this one.....so:

I wish our memory banks were bigger.
There were all kinds of memories of when Sarah was small and learning that I wish I could get back. But life got so busy with each new development, then another new being to nurture and remember, and constant sleep-deprivation, that the stores you have deep inside your mind start to spill over and disappear. One at a time those memories are replaced by something else. A new memory of Sarah saying or doing something precious replaces one from when she was smaller. You want to keep them all but can't. You wish you could have BOTH memories instead of just one and all those pin numbers and passwords you need to recall at a moment's notice.....so:

I wish my brain wasn't so full of passwords and pin-numbers.
I can remember my bank card number. And my passwords for all my online activities. And my password for work. I have at least 20 phone numbers in my head at the ready on a moment's notice. I have most of my home administrative responsibilities tucked under my hat somewhere. I have the details of my job tucked in there too. The learning curve of parenting is sometimes more steep than that of an evolving career path. You wish that more of your mental energy could go to being ever-present in your home life, but that's not possible in this day and age. There is simply too much infinite and infatessimal information stored, and not enough first words or comprehensions of the people you most want to remember. So there ought to be two storage areas; one for the numbers and codes and administrative mumbo-jumbo, and one for the "moments" you wish to treasure always, and recollect easily when the valley is at it's deepest. Like when you're worried about one of those little people.....so:

I wish that there were no such thing as learning disabilities.
That's a toughie. But honestly. Everyone should be "smart" and teachable. You should begin life with an infinite ability to learn and then how much and how fast and how well you learn becomes a "nurture" versus "nature" thing. None of this sheer inability to learn because your brain won't or can't do it. Sarah can NOT draw a diagonal line without a guide. Cannot. Can you imagine not being able to print an N or a K or a V? She cannot. N's are much better for her because it starts with a straight line and ends with a straight line. But the K? Leave those two diagonal lines floating there? Her brain cannot comprehend it. Cannot do it. V? And W can only be accomplished with rounded bottoms and straight lines. It looks like a W. But a V looks like a U. Sarah can read the word "and" 50 times in a row and know it. Then she can go away for a five minute break, come back, and not know the word "and". She doesn't understand that me just telling her not to put her mittens on the wet ground means that really she ought to stop putting her mittens on the wet ground, or that I just explained that singing into her brother's ear isn't a good thing because it can damage them means she should stop doing that. She needs to be told. Each step. And many times. Add to that the fact that she's at the age where they can start to formulate their own opinions and will therefore fight for what they believe to be all that is good and just and fair in the world, and what you can often get is a non-comprehending, aargumentative, and often confused girl. So banish the learning disabilities. None. Everyone gets a good strong brain and if it's fed properly, then everyone gets to understand how to read and do numbers and print and concentrate on their work. What makes learning disabilities so hard is that the child appears in every way normal. So there is less patience for their behaviours because if they do something socially unacceptable, they aren't in some way disabled, they are "weird". So.....

I wish that people would stop telling me there is nothing wrong with my sweet girl and just accept that there IS something wrong with her and cut her some slack.
That is a big wish. But it is part of what's making me feel down today. Valley-ish. The peak was Saturday and it was a beautiful family day in so many ways. But it ended on a low note (I mean, the very last half hour of it, so not enough to ruin it). Then Sunday dawned on a low note and was pretty much a struggle. Then there was homework and it dawned on me - as it often dawns on me as if I were JUST comprehending the scope of her disabilities for the first time - that this child has many complex and serious issues that will dog her for her entire life. I don't like that I can't clear her mind and make her think like the mainstream of society. I don't like that something, some actual EVENT, happened during her development to "injure" her white matter so that she cannot traverse the seamless world of abstract thought to concrete, that she cannot go from right brain to left brain thoughts and ideas, that she can't see that some of her more "quirky" behaviours are going to set her apart. I can't chase it away and that's what I really want more than anything....so:

I wish that my Christmas gifts could all be traded for the ability to make Sarah "better" and for me to be able to remember their growing and their words and the laughter with incredible clarity.
I wish it. I don't need tops or pants or "stuff". But I DO need to remember holding James' hand this morning, cuddling Sarah to warm her up, sleeping with her on my chest, her crossing her arms to proclaim "no flair!", James wanting to say grace and thanking God for "food, milk, and hot sauce", Sarah hiding in the leaves and waiting for daddy to get home to surprise him, James playing his musical instruments in time with the music on the radio, Sarah proclaiming "this is Roxanne" from the first bar of the song by The Police. Her compassion, his passion. Her ability to nurture, his comprehension. Her easy-going nature, his fierce independence. God, I wish I could retain it all. And banish the wall in Sarah's brain that prevents so much daily ability.

But.
Some of my wishes have come true already.

I have two beautiful children who are powerful in each their own ways.
I have a home I love, even if there are ways I'd like to improve it.
I have the ability to get around, and the good fortune to be able to take care of the children's needs.
I have a good job and wonderful colleagues to spend one-third of my life with. I am blessed to be challenged in my job and to be doing what I really like to do.
I have a good extended family, even if I wish some of them could understand the challenges a little better.
I have a husband who REALLY knows there are days when we need to be cohesive. That there really are those "us versus them" days when we must be on the same team or fail miserably.
I have my health. I am strong enough to lug those kids around when they need me physically.
I have my stamina. I can outrun them. Even if it exhausts me, which it mostly does.
I have the future, and the everlasting optimism that the next peak will be better than the last and that the valleys will not be deep and will be easy to traverse.
I have friends. I feel love from unexpected places and that helps to buoy me through the deeper valleys.
I love. Some people can't. But I can. And that is the greatest gift.

There are wishes. There are always wishes. But there are also wishes granted. I will try to be mindful....so:

I wish I could remember that there were wishes I wished that have come true. I remembered in writing this. I hope YOU remember in reading it.

Thanks for stopping by. Merry Christmas....
I WISH it for you.

Has it really been that long.....?

2008-11-27T08:12:00.000-05:00

It has.

I was blogging like crazy before Denmark, but now it seems I don't have much time anymore.

I know the cause.

It's Facebook.

That insidious place to share and joke and "see" people has taken me from my other online loves. I have kept up with Kayla more in the last two months than I had in most of her high school career. Ironic, that. Here she is so far away and yet she and I are in constant touch. I guess it's better to be in closer contact now that she is away from her family and her friends, so I feel good about it.

I can talk to our loved ones in Denmark and it's as if the distance doesn't exist. Except for the fact that I am aware that at 2:00 my time it's really 8:00 p.m. for them and that means they are wrapping up their day. But still - to be in touch is wonderful.

Yes, Facebook.

I was opposed. I held off for a very long time. And now I can't remember the reason. Oh, and you know it has to be half decent - Craig NEVER joins such things. He had hotmail for five seconds, an MSN account for three, and belongs to no boards (as I do. IMDb, Buddy TV, the Barenaked Ladies Message Board, and I belong to COUNTLESS Survey Groups - which in itself is a disease (here's where Carina laughs out loud!).

What is especially nice is that I will be in touch with people as the holidays approach. It's nice to think that I will be able to see what people are up to; to know where in the process of preparing for the festivities my mom is because she changes her status to reflect what she's up to. To see what my nieces and sister are doing as the days come closer to when we'll be together, to know what cousins are up to and what their traditions include.

....which is a nice segue into my next topic for consideration:

Christmas and the Kids.

My friend and colleague and all around funny and terrific gal Julie Kinkaid just published a book (designed by another lovely and talented friend Diane) called Overturning the Tables. It's got me thinking about all the crazy consumerism that occurs this time of year. On top of the whole thing percolating around in my head, Mattamy had their wonderful Christmas Party for Children last weekend.

It was so fabulous and so colourful [read: stimulating] and so lavish [read: a kid doesn't know what to do first] and so fabulous [they built birdhouses and made crafts and got airbrushed tattoos and jumped in bouncy castles and ate fabulous brunch and said hi to Santa and got a very lovely gift]. But it was ..... well .... so much more than many children get the whole season long. And quite possibly as a result, the kids were nuts at the end of the day. Is that a sign of things to come for the next month? And is that something I'd like to subject myself and Craig (and the rest of our family) to?

I'd like to slow it down. This is the year it begins. Trying to make absolutely sure that the gifts I get are not usless junk. Something someone can really use - might really appreciate. And that doesn't take up too much room (except for a present or two). Next year we'll go another step.

Santa is coming. With stockings and a gift. And the kids will get clothes otherwise. I hope everyone gives them clothes. That is what I hope. They could use that more than anything else.

As for the "real meaning of Christmas", they get that. Sarah knows about a baby coming. James too. We read books and talk about it and learn all about the baby Jesus every December. They can't be in the church pageant even though they'd both like to, because we'll be away. But we still have the books and we still attend services and we'll try to go to church on Christmas Eve. To me, if you're going to "do" the gifts, you have to understand why that is.

And it's hyper-important to me that the giving be as exciting as the getting. I want Sarah to be excited for what others get, too.

Anyway.... it's a toughie. But there does seem to be more of a push toward taking some of the glare off the wonder and brightness of Christmas. It SHOULD be wonderful. It SHOULD be bright. It SHOULDN'T be blinding, though.

Well, that's it for now. I am back. You won't see another two month absence. In the meantime, may your holiday preparations have meaning for you and not cause you any stress.

From my family to yours, Merry Christmas and Happy Facebooking!

What is a Mommy to do?

2008-10-01T08:57:00.000-04:00

Last night I bawled.

A full out cry-fest.

Was I feeling sorry for myself, or what?

I'd been grumpy with the kids. Was very tired, and it is a lot of work doing the whole swim lesson thing with them. But I managed, got home, scrambled up some eggs, and then set to cleaning up the kitchen a bit.

But I was tired. Sarah wanted me to read; I needed to clean. I grumped at her. Then I was sorry for it. I apologized, left some of my tasks, and then went in to read to her in the living room. I apologized for my behaviour and explained that I was especially tired. Crisis averted.

We read and I calmed down. Then James asked me for help with the magna doodle. He had been making shapes and calling them out. I had chuckled with the "guare, shirckle, and shriakle" attempts as he was "colouring". But now he wanted to use the magna-pen. So I got down on the floor and traced his hand for him. Then together we printed J A M E S above it. I asked what that said and he said "Jayyymesh".

What was that???

"Jaymesh".

Oh no! No! No, James no! You did not just say "James"!

He did. And then he did 5 more times, giggling everytime it tickled off his tongue. I was devestated. Pure, tragic, horrible, world-altering forever devestation!!!

My baby is gone. My baby who has always called himself "Beash", is gone. No longer "Beash", this "Jaymesh" is ready to take on the world. He is confidant and brash. He is strong and smart. He gets the step-stool from the bathroom, turns on the light, and then returns the stool to it's spot. He wore one pull-up all day yesterday. He wants to do up his "beat belt" himself. He knows his numbers and letters and colours and shapes. He wants to go on Sarah's school bus. He no longer calls his little friend "Bellbee" - it's now "Shelby" clear as a bell.

And he rides a trike like a real pro, and always wants to go "fasser, mom! Beash go fasser."

Dad told me this morning not to worry too much about it; James seemed to be back to "Beash". But when I dropped him off this morning and told Kit the story, she nodded knowingly. She sang a song and at the end the child calls out his or her name: James said "Jaymesh."

I said, "well, I am going to my car now to have another cry."

I didn't, but I think I could have. It's not that he's growing. That is wonderful and magical. It's that it's happening SO FAST. Out of my control. They grow and we can't stop time, not for a minute. I try to capture the little moments, but days are so full. So much to do to care for two children and try to hold down a job at the same time. You wish some of the moments away because you're so tired. I almost did that last night by sending Sarah away with her book.

I am glad I slowed down. But my reward: My baby says his name.

Slow the world down, someone, won't you? I want to get off, and take my kids with me! Just for a couple of years!

Hug your kids, nieces, nephews, husbands, wives, friends, coworkers. Look at them. Tomorrow they will be somehow different. In most cases better. But different. Love them for who they are today.

And cherish the moments.

I love you all, good readers.

k

Denmark in 9 days and counting....

2008-09-24T10:16:00.000-04:00

We have our passports. We're picking up things here and there that we will need, taking a few items to the family. Making sure we have some snack food for the plane. Gravol for the kids. New jammies for their adventure. Shows for the iPods. New memory key for the camera. Batteries. We are mentally preparing ourselves and the kids for the plane. The plane looks luxurious. We sure hope it is - that would go a long way to alleviating some of my fears of flying.

Now all that's left to do is actually pack (been warned it's been a bit chilly of late), call the house-sitter, call the cab, write a note to the school, call the bus company, and finish up what work needs doing.

I have never been on a trip such as this. Mexico was a lot of coordinating, but we were with family the entire time, so that felt different. Cuba was new for me too, but it was just us, so I was much more relaxed. THIS is different.

THIS is international. THIS is a very long overnight flight. THIS is just us and the two kids and so many unknowns. THIS is jet lag and a brand new country.

But yet....THIS is Viking ruins. THIS is castles 1000 years old. THIS is a beloved Aunt who lives on the ocean. THIS is Fjords and a land older than anything I could ever imagine. THIS is family who is wonderful and warm and fun. And it will be my birthday while we're there. So THIS will be the birthday of a lifetime.

We are going to have a most wonderful time. I will see if I can scam a computer to blog whilst there but I may not be able to post pictures. But if you want to see where we're going, click here:

http//www.maplandia.com/denmark/frederiksborg/frederiksvark/liseleje/

That is where we're going. An hour north of Copenhagen. The list of things we must do is not long, but it makes me feel like a little kid with anticipation. Copenhagen, and a tour of the harbour. Roskilde, one of the oldest cities. Fjords. Viking Ruins. A Kirke or two. Family. And Craig wants to get a haircut from his cousin Erik and go fishing with his cousin Olaf. Sarah is anxious to play with Elisabeth and see Christian again.

And I really want to eat a lot of fish and herring.

So, 9 days and counting!

Two Weeks Down, 12 More YEARS to Go!

2008-09-12T10:08:00.000-04:00

Sarah.

End of week two. Exhausted.

Long bus rides. First one on in the morning, last one off at night. Somehow that doesn't seem entirely fair to me, but what do I know? I am watching it closely though. And if it goes beyond 50 minutes I am going to say something. It's been over an hour too many times. What's the poor kid to do? No time to play!

Another totally new and exciting thing is eating lunch in the gym. How new the notion of a lunch bag. But alas....every single day so far something has gone missing.

"Where are your barretts?"
"I dunno" [shrug]
"Where is the BOTTOM of this lunch container?"
"I dunno" [shrug]
"Where is your spoon?"
"I dunno" [shrug]
"Where is your HAT?"
[gasp] "Oh!....I dunno"
"Where is your brand new snack container I JUST bought you?"
[gasp]......"I.....don't know"
"Sarah! Not ANOTHER sandwich container! What are we to do about this?"
"I don't know. Um... maybe don't give me sammiches anymore."
"And your carrot container from the other day?"
"No more carrots either, maybe."
"Oh, so now there are no sandwiches, no carrots, no grapes, no yogurt ever to be in your lunch. Sarah, you can't go to school with an EMPTY lunch bag....you'll STARVE!"
[shrug]

Grrr. My friend Patricia is struggling with these same issues with her newly endowed grade one daughter. This gives me some small comfort, at least knowing that I am not the only one. But as Patricia and I discussed, if an item is lost each day of the school year, we'll be broke. And the landfill will be pretty darn full. Kind of counter to what we were looking for, isn't it?

So today Sarah has a sandwich cut into triangles. In a handy-dandy sandwich BAG. It will be mushy by lunch time, which was the fate my sandwiches suffered each day of my young student life, but she made her bed and now must lie in it.

Sure, she's only still 6, and that's a pretty hefty responsibility to place on her shoulders, but someone decided she is big enough to spend all day at school, so by extension she's big enough to eat at school in the gym with the other kids. So therefore, she ought to be responsible enough to bring those items home that got into the bag in the first place.

Well... I guess.

Personally I can't see how hard it is to look around your eating area and make sure you have sandwich container, yogurt container, carrot container, spoon. Even for a six year old I can see how it would work. I was 6 once. I don't remember my mom going gray over me losing stuff. But me, clearly I am different.....

"You know, of all the spoons you could have lost, you didn't even lose the one we have doubles of. You lost your favourite blue one."
"I KNOW mom! Don't remind me! It upsets me!"
"Good! Use that! Be upset! That will mean you CARE about the items you're taking to school. That will help you LOOK around the area and remember to put the stuff in your bag."
"You want me to be sad?"
"I don't know, Sarah - is it helping?"
"I guess. I dunno." [shrug]

[Mom shrugs]. We'll see, I guess.

How to instill some sort of understanding of the effort to pack her lunch, the money spent to outfit her lunch bag, the cost to us and the environment if she's so nonchalant about things and things go to waste. How, how, how?

Is there anyone who knows? Or does time tell with regard to such things?

I'm not usually good at patience. But - sigh - something tells me I better bone up on the finer points of 'waiting it out.'

Until next time.....
k

What it means to find high school.....

2008-08-29T09:15:00.000-04:00

Wow.

I am in awe today.

So....Kayla is going away to school tomorrow. That in itself is one thing. Wasn't Kayla just a small girl? Wasn't she just the little kid who came to the cottage with us? Afraid of a rain storm in the car? Wasn't she just the toddler who wanted to sleep with me because she was cold?

But now, my eldest niece is off. I'm feelin' it. Not like her parents and sister I'm sure, but I am.

So I thought it was time to join facebook so I could keep in touch with her. So I did it.

And then I kind of got that glassy-eyed look like a kid in a candy store. WOW! I could find Jen Lowery, I bet. AND THEN I DID!!! I could find others maybe. I tried. Found Byron - wow!. Then others found me somehow. Then Lea joined up and before you could be sent to the Vice Principal's office (that would be Lea, for readers who don't know that. It's meant to be a joke), SHE has found a page that Karen C created (who else but our fearless co-leader?) for AISP.

Freaken WOW.

I have been to my own private high school reunion.

And it made me think of John Wilson! Isn't that guy Mayor yet? He'd likely do a better job!

What a trip. The only thing left is to know whether or not the John Walker I emailed yesterday is in fact the Johnny Walker I was a child with. If it is, my mind is OFFICIALLY blown.
All this because Kayla's off to Nipissing. I shoulda done it months ago.

Thanks, Kayla!

Post Vacation Distress Syndrome - or not?

2008-08-11T15:04:00.000-04:00

I'm bland....bland.

It's no wonder that the current statistics are that overworked people are taking less and less time off. The cruel fact is that your work doesn't disappear in your absence and then when you get back to work the reality is that you're bagged from chasing children and not sleeping well in a strange bed (or in our case: one ancient 3/4 bed, then one single bed in a hot narrow room, then two singles pushed together with the 4 of us a la Little House on the Prairie, followed by the confusion the kids felt from arriving home late at night and taking strange to their OWN beds - and therefore ending up in bed with us). Just reading it makes my head spin!

Alas.

So here it is Monday. I had to drag my butt in to do some Pilates at lunch (thank you everlasting Dee and Patricia for dragging your sore butts in there with me), but I felt better for the work out. But I am dragged out indeed, and I know it will be an early night, one of those nights you get maybe 10 minutes into your book (Outlander) before you fall to sleep with the light on.

And guess who's going on retreat this week?

Sigh.

So it is going to be one of those "get through the day" weeks and I am going to be so toast by the end of it. And we wonder why the days [all those "where did the summer go?" we exclaim to each other] speed by so quickly. It's because we usually live for the weekends, or the next potential to grab a few private "z"s [read: sleep in Saturday morning as dad plays Command and Conquer and the kids glue themselves to Treehouse TV].

It's a shame this is what life is all about. It's no wonder the kids grow up so fast, really. We're making it happen, us bunch of "hurry-ups" that we adults are!

But back to the vacation.

It's hard work, but it's worth it. It's like digging for treasure; it takes days of back busting digging and tired muscles, but in the end you get the nuggets of gold and ruby. My nuggets were kids making connections, revelations, and saying the coolest things. Growing and learning and loving their parents. Exploring outdoors and catching their first fish. Driving the boat (in circles). Asking "Pampa" to "turn the handle" to play his gramophone, and then dancing like a maniac. Saying "Yay!!" very emphatically the first time Snacktime is played after 5 days of only gramophone music.

All treasure.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

So I guess I have my answer...

Proud Moments

2008-07-29T13:04:00.000-04:00

There are lots of proud moments for a mom or dad.

Watching your child learn to walk, talk, feel compassion for another, grow, gain intelligence, explore their world, make good decisions, and then grow up and become "something".

It's the little things.

Representing your company at an important golf tournament is one such thing.

Shaking the hand of a great on behalf of said company is one such thing.

That "the great" is Johnny Bower himself is another thing altogether.

This one's for you, Peter. A proud moment for you and your son!

And excitement for the future, Craig. Who might James meet someday?

Weird Water Weight

2008-07-29T11:05:00.000-04:00

'Kay.

So I am a little downtrodden by the fact that in the midst of summer no one wants to Pilate with me. That's okay. I can understand it.

But MY body needs the workout, I'm stiff, and I'd really like to get back on the wagon.

Then today, 680 News was discussing how there is a new study (egad - not ANOTHER study!) that suggests that in order to lose weight and keep fit, and fight "the bulge", adults over 35 need 5 (yes, read 'em) days of 55 minute exercise sessions.

5!
55 Minutes each!!

Okay. Well, so The Pro isn't doing too bad here. I work out 4 - 5 times a week for an hour.

But.

Here comes the caveat.
I KNOW I am not getting enough cardio. And I REALLY know that 5 times a week has been hard to hit the last 2 months or so.

Now here's the kicker.
My slower than slow metabolism just doesn't like me. It isn't about diet for me. I eat reasonably. But my body just doesn't use it all. ...So I started feeling all bloaty and big in that spare tire section. ...So I realized I had to do something.

When, I wondered to self, was I feeling most swarthy and good...?

Well, other than when I was hitting the gym 6 days a week for 2 hours...

Oh... I know.
When I was taking these:

I dunno. Does it help with the metabolism? I've been back on them just over a week. My waist somehow feels better. Is it the Vitamins? Or is it weird water weight?

I dunno. I tried other ones. Just didn't like them as well. Or my body didn't. Or it's still just weird water weight. Who's really to say? Is every body different? Can anyone come up with that magic solution or is it just experimentation? If they really do work, will I have to take them for life? What if they go off the market? The Jamieson ones don't work half so well....

sigh!

I wish I had magic answers.
But alas. I do not.

Anyone got magic answers?

People Are So Self-Righteous!

2008-07-18T09:08:00.000-04:00

Poor Steven Page.

Not ONLY is his marriage a mess. Not ONLY does he have substance issues. Not ONLY was he caught with it and busted....

No, it's even worse. Busted is the US. Plastered all over Entertainment Tonight and Perez Hilton.

No, it's even worse. Now the band won't be playing Disney or promoting Snacktime at that event.

Nope, worse still. Events are being canceled all over the place.

Even worse; so-called fans are placing judgment on this issue as if they'd been there. As if they knew what demons Steve lives with. As if they knew the details of that night or even the last year. As if they knew what personal hell this must be for him.

No, personal hell is not enough. Somehow, we've got to make it WORSE for him.

I posted on the BNL website that it is too bad so-called fans feel compelled to click on Perez Hilton to view his mug shot. I can admit to being curious. How did he look? I wonder. But I won't do it. I will stand on principle and refrain from standing at the train-wreck that this is and poring over the carnage. I won't click on those links.

Instead, I will continue to groan when I hear of another cancellation for the band. I will continue to wonder how many times Ed (who loves to swear - what a TERRIBLE role model. Read: sarcasm) has uttered his favourite four letter expletives, I will continue to hope that Steve is able to hold his head up through all the media attention, and I will continue to post on the message boards that I am here to offer my support to both him and the band.

This sucks.

It's such a bad train wreck and gets worse by the day. For Steve, for the band, for his family.

But I won't waver.

Hang in there Steve. "When you were born, people looked at you and said, what a smart boy, what a strong boy, what a good boy."

Heartbroken!

2008-07-16T08:21:00.000-04:00

I just finished posting on the Barenaked Ladies Message Board.

This is what I said:

A little heartbroken this morning; the local [read: loudmouthed] rock station was goofing on the whole thing. My heart has never sunk so fast. I'm not sure what it is. I don't know if it's the drugs or the nefarious sounding surroundings of it. I have been a fan since day one. Was so proud to be able to show off Band Number One to my kids with Snacktime. Have NEVER thought of it as a sell-out. I still love ya, Steve. Not sure who I feel worse for - you and your family, or the band. Timing stinks as it always does in a situation like this.

Hang in there. There can be bumps in the road - just don't go and Belushi yourself.

Here till the end - k

What a sad sad day. Not only did I not want to hear this news, but I don't want to have to explain it to Sarah. I'm not pulling pious - I feel for the guy, in a big way. I know how things happen and not being any saint myself I am not prone to say what others on the Boards are saying which is "shame on you, Steve."

But on the other hand, they JUST put the new CD out there, and kids everywhere are falling in love with their music; Sarah doesn't just want to hear Snacktime, she wants Gordon and Maroon and anything I can throw at her (which is a lot because I am a huge fan). What are parents thinking this morning? What are they going to do? Will they prevent their kids from listening?

I hope not. It's hopefully just a "blip" (as Sarah likes to call 'em).

I am heartbroken today. I've never felt like this. I feel bad for all the guys, Steve, Ed, Kevin, Jim and Ty. For Steve's family. For myself. For Diane. For Sarah and Maggie and James and Ian.

I feel bad. I'm havin' a bad day. Nothing you can do or say. Havin' a bad day. Think I'll stay in my room.......

love ya Steve.....
k

Kids With Rashes

2008-07-11T10:13:00.000-04:00

On another topic, the third thing (as Gimped did declare correctly yesterday that things come in threes) is that James' daycare called me yesterday to inform about a bad rash that he has all over his body. Well, I took him in to see the good doc on Saturday last because of said rash.

He got the "rash" on the long weekend at Scarlett Island. Sarah got some sort of bite that swelled her arm up like a balloon; she couldn't fully flex her hand and it was very hot to the touch. One on her leg too. Those bites took a week for the swelling to go down fully.

So by the time we got home on the 1st, James was just starting to pop with these spots that look like chicken pox but without the "head" on them. So I took him on the 5th. Told to give him Reactine Junior and cream for the itch. Did this 4 days. Seemed to be better. Stopped. Then returned. Thus the doctor visit. He says it's an allergic reaction.

So last night I administered the Reactine and this morning, hardly anything. So now it does appear that it is definitely allergy-related. So now what? A food and exposure log. Yay for us! Doctor Cham asked if mom or dad were allergy sufferers. Yep. I am on Reactine now for seasonal, and carry an epi pen for the fruit and nut allergy. Uh-oh, says doc. Not looking entirely good for Master James.

What did you touch at Grandpa's Island you little devil??? What sort of bush did you rub against? What kind of tree did you climb? What sort of grass did you roll around in?

So you know how we always get those messages circulated about friendship and poems that either bring a tear to the eye or a groan to the throat? And how they usually involve animals in various stage of posery that illicits "ooohs" and "ahhhhs" from desktop to desktop? So got one of those sorts of things this morning. Only THIS ONE is so cute it bears posting. Wonder what dogs and cats and other types of animals think. I really do.

Sadly, I am not a dog whisperer. And that seems like another topic for another time......

;-)

Small Fortunes and Talented Artists

2008-07-11T08:17:00.000-04:00

'Kay, so the car's gonna cost us $500 smackaroos. So I said something about it last night, prompting Sarah to say "is that a lot of money?"

"Yes, it is. It's quite a bit."
"Yeah, but is it ALL your money?"
"No, but it's a lot of money right now."
"Yeah, but mom, is it ALL you HAVE?"

There was the kicker. In the grand scheme of things, unwelcome though it may be, the guy didn't say "a grand", the guy didn't say "it's dead".

Kids are great at perspective. Bless her giant big perspective-giving heart.

Item two for your consideration this day:

So... giving this blogging thing some thought.

I realize that I miss writing. I am good at it and I love it. I have a 2/3 written manuscript somewhere (psst - don't tell Chris it's on DATA). It's a good story I think, with lots of twists and turns (interestingly, Dee, it goes back and forth in time, this before I ever read Outlander!). I think I need to make time to work on it. But when??? I can't even make time to do some much needed cardio, let alone sit and WRITE. Heck, I don't feel like I have time to even sit and think some days.

Mama needs a laptop.

Anyway, me aside for a moment. A lot of people I know are talented. Take Miyuki. Ever seen this:

http://baikautsugi.livejournal.com/

That is one talented artist there! And on this wonderful page she laments lack of time for honing her craft. It's true. There is lack of time. How is that? Why is that?

We gotta make time, peeps. Life is too short. We've known too many artists who have had all their time to practice their craft wrested from them too early. I take for granted my talent for writing, and I waste it daily. On living life.

But is it living life, or going through the paces? And is there a difference if you do it intentionally and don't just plow through it? (Though some days are plow days, and some days you have time to notice that your little one now says CARRRR and not cah.)

What to do?
What to do?

Any ideas, other talented peeps?

Am I the only one who seems surrounded by extremely expressive people? Look at Brad and Diane's pictures:
That ain't nothin'! If you go over to the side of my blog there, you'll see EastCoastARama is on of my faves. Click on it and see how even capturing a group hug becomes artistic expression!!

My peeps is talented.

Cheers to the talent. And hope that time can be found to be creative!

k

Murphy's Law and Other Stories

2008-07-10T08:19:00.000-04:00

So....ever get to a real nice point in things when you really think that maybe it's all going to go your way for awhile....only to have it all go KABOOM all at once?!

Kay, so we got ourselves into a little travel situation. I call it that for lack of better explanation. We were GOING to go to Denmark in the Spring but then Craig had a lot going on so we couldn't manage the trip then. And sadly we were not at a high point of communication in this little thing I like to call Marriage.

So, as things often happen....we ended up having different ideas, and discussed the possibility of going to Cuba for New Year's with Uncle Frank and Auntie Rhonda instead. Calls were made. Plans afoot. ...I still shake my head - because I have no idea how we managed to mess this one up. But the end result was that he was still hoping (and expected) to go to Scandinavia in the fall.

I said "take Sarah" and he said okay. Then I looked at fares and thought "it's only $1500 more. How could I miss this opportunity?" so we decided to take the big plunge and do our 2008 trip to Denmark in October, and follow up with a 2009 trip end of December. 2 trips in two months. This for a family that barely travels (though we're doing better than we did before we had children - ironically!!!). So looks like we'll do both.

So what if it means that lunches will have to be made at home, less wine and whisky consumed? Birthday parties are out (sorry Sarah - but there'll still be an overnight-with-a-friend adventure). Cut a little here and a little there. It's all good. We can make it happen!

Alas.

Sigh.

Last night the phone rang. It was Craig - broken down in the Corolla at the side of the road.

That's One.

Yesterday I called Honda because the Accord is making a noise from the rear that sounds potentially expensive.

That's Two.

Murphy's Law.

And that Murphy guy seems out to get me somehow!!!

Everytime I get my head nicely above water and think I can shoot for the moon for a change, BAM! It's really that predictable, I swear to you.

Now I sit here and wait for Craig to call to tell me how much. The tow truck was already enough. Then Monday I will sit here and wait for Honda to call me and tell me how much that will be. Then watch - the tickets I have been eyeing will be gone, and we'll pay 200 more a person. It's going to balloon and there's nothing I can do to prevent it.

Damn that Murphy!

I don't like that Mister Murphy guy. I can just about hear his laughter. He's like a pig in rut, rolling and languishing in the misery of others. "Feeling good?" he asks. "HA! Take that" he says with a poof. Car explodes. Poof, tickets escalate. Poof, something else.

I think we ought to start a club to oust that Murphy Guy!

Sigh.

Good thing I am an optimist, eh?

Stainless Steel Water Bottles

2008-07-09T08:19:00.000-04:00

So anyone who knows someone or IS someone with small kids heard all about the bisphenol-A fiasco. That's where all the manufacturers of baby bottles and sippy cups wanted us to have the clearest, glass-like plastic bottles ever, so they used this chemical to prevent the plastic from yellowing or clouding. Only, who cares if the plastic isn't clear if everytime it heats up it's releasing harmful chemicals into our kidlets bodies?!

So everyone and their brother has been producing stainless steel waterbottles of late. You can go to one of the more shi-shi specialty children's stores and find them for $25 bucks a pop (or more). You can go to an outfitters store and do the same. You can get them insulated.

OR you can get an email from Kitchen Stuff Plus like I did yesterday and see a special for 33% reduction in price, to get kid-friendly sized 500 ml water bottles for $8.00, and 750 ml for $10.00. So I went on the way home and grabbed a blue one for Sarah, a red one for James, and a 750 blue one for mom and dad to share.

The only problem is the cap is plastic. BUT it isn't clear plastic and doesn't have the evil 7 on it. And I really think you can't get entirely away from plastic. But if it's just the cap, and liquid isn't in contact with it all the time, presumably there is less leeching??? Alas. Win some and lose some so they say, right?

So now the kids have new water bottles, and we can finally do that big purge Craig's been wanting to do of plastic plastic and more plastic. We DID get rid of a little crappy bisphenol A laden Princess sippy cup that was just bad to the bone!!!! So, anyone else big on the Stainless Steel Option???

Come on Ovah and Chat a Little

2008-07-08T13:22:00.000-04:00

Hey there. I am doing this again. Some of my happier days were blogging days, back in the day we called it Blobbing. Now I am going to "blob" again and invite you to join me. Nothing is off topic. Let's talk about it all, or nothing. Though to talk about nothing will be muchos boringos.

So let me begin. What in your mind is the best 80's movie? There were some good ones. But you can't count Star Wars because that began in the 70s even though it might have helped to shape the 80s, and personally I didn't see it till the 90s. And same with Rocky. There was a lot of camp in the 80s. Golan Globus and their "shoot 'em up ex army guys save the western world chuck norris" flicks. Monty Python. Airplane movies. (Ooh again that wonderful series began in the 70s!) But then you had Goonies, Stand by Me, St. Elmo's Fire, Breakfast Club, and many more coming of age films. Right when I was coming of age.

I have to say, at this stage of my life, I am gonna go with Ferris Bueller's Day off. It was THE movie. And to this day I love to sing "when Cameron was in Egypt land....let my Cameron gooooo." Gotta love the state-of-the-art answering machine in that scene. I also thought of Ferris' sound equipment and sure wished I had a keen set up like that. Look at how much room it took up!

Better off Dead was a good one too. And it really made an excellent starting point for our boy John Cusack (never count 16 Candles. He was a supreme nerd in that one. No, better the John that gets to wear his collar UP). I smile every time I think of that kid collecting for the newspaper on his bike. "2 Dollars! I want my Two dollars!" Such nostalgia - when was the last time you saw anyone collecting???

Top Gun was a real classic. Did you know I wrote the sequel along with my friend Jennifer? Yes we did. We alternated writing chapters, and got three binders full. Yeah, more nostalgia. We HAND wrote the thing. Before computers could do it, before email exchanges or blogs or IM or texting. Before T9 we did it long hand. Man, I feel old. Yes, it was more than 20 years ago. I mean, I have the 20th Anniversary DVD!!!! So many cute guys. Wonder what Barry Tubb or Whip Hubley are doing now? We all KNOW about Tom Cruise. Maybe too much.

Nowadays it's Lost. WAS Jericho and Lost but Jericho is but a thing of the past. Still I managed to be part of that really big effort to bring it back and so at least we got another 7 episodes. That was something I will always remember. How maybe our little movement changed the way TV numbers are gathered. So now it's Lost. And there are more theorists than episodes of the series these days, so I will leave it to the Really Big Brains. Though maybe a little talk about it wouldn't be entirely offensive!

What 80s shows were good? A Team? Magnum PI? Rip Tide? Miami Vice? Hardcastle & McCormick? Knight Rider? Family Ties? Cosby? Soap? Yes, Soap. Gotta love that one, and Billy Crystal was just a wee thing back then. 80s was not the heyday of TV - that was earlier. But it was the era of really good and available repeats, so I saw a lot of those earlier classics like Lucy, Gilligans Island, Brady Bunch, Flintsones. But for it's own time, I guess the best it had to offer was Family Ties. Go ahead and remind me of others....

Music? Well for me it was Duran Duran, U2, Blondie, Joan Jett, and great movie soundtracks like Top Gun (there it is again, groan), Footloose, Cocktail, Flashdance. In retrospect, certain bands did a ton for the industry. Who knew U2 would end up so huge? If they aren't careful, one day they could overshadow the Beatles.

Another thing that shaped my existence was Band Aid and Live Aid. I finally learned to get outside of my box. It was a huge thing. And there was Phil Collins jetting from Heathrow in London to New York to be on both stages. I watched it all.

So, talk to me. Do you care about anything I've said? Share your opinions! You know you want to!