The Wisdom of Solomon

Every night when I tuck Hope in, we read a Bible story.  We started right at the beginning in Genesis and have worked our way through the Israelites escaping Egypt, etc, etc til we came to first King David and his story and then to his son, King Solomon and his story.

So as the story goes for those who aren't familiar, when Solomon first become King he goes to Gibeon to make a sacrifice to God.  While he's there, God appears to him in a dream and tells Solomon that whatever he asks of God will be given.  Solomon asks for wisdom and understanding in his judgments of the Isrealites.  God is pleased with his answer and says that Solomon will not be surpassed in wisdom and that he would also be granted riches, honour, and long life. 

Solomon, of course, goes on to become known as the wisest man in history, and the story of the two women with the one live baby and one dead baby is his most famous example.

Well, when we are done the story, Hope looks at me and asks why God doesn't speak directly to her.  We chatted about this for a while as I explained that sometimes God shows up as a feeling in her heart or an idea in her brain.  Maybe a feeling that she should or shouldn't be doing something.  I reminded her that God spoke to Solomon in a dream. 

"Maybe God will come to me in a dream tonight!"  Hope gasps.  "Can you please pray that, Mom?  That God would speak to me tonight?  And that He would say I could ask Him for something?  'Cause I know exactly what to say!"

Her eyes are shining and I think to myself "This dear, dear child is going to ask for wisdom, knowing how pleased God was with Solomon's answer." 

I had no sooner had that thought when she continued.... her eyes still shining bright with hope and expectation... "I would ask him for a unicorn....I would ride him to school everyday and love him soooo much." 

She hugs her stuffed unicorn and shivers with delight at the thought of riding a unicorn to school.

Oh.  Uhhhhh.....   Hmmmmmm......

I think that was my exact reply.

For the record....I did pray that God would speak to her in a dream tonight but I left out the wish granting request.

She's going to let me know how it went in the morning. 

I'll keep you posted.  Doesn't seem like Solomon will have a contender here, though.

Stalking my Kid

I wouldn’t say that I’m one of those so called ‘helicopter’ parents that are constantly hovering over their children, protecting them from any real or imagined danger, showing up with them at their interviews, calling their kids’ bosses indignant that their baby has been reprimanded. 

Of course my kids aren’t at the job stage yet.  Oh.  True story – I actually got a call from a mother, calling on behalf of her son to see if there was a job here at the milk plant for him and what would it all entail – she wanted to vet it to see if it was even suitable for her son.  I asked somewhat incredulously, “why doesn’t your son phone to find out?”  I was met with some indignant response about him being very busy with school and other things…. 

Anyways, as our oldest is slowly becoming more and more independent and asking for more and more freedoms to move around our neighbourhood without parent supervision we are exploring exactly how comfortable we are with that idea and what our limits are.

We have just recently begun allowing her to walk to the corner store that’s two blocks away by herself.  She can go to either neighbourhood park with a friend (both are approximately one block away from our house – one north and one south) as long as she has a watch with her a very specific time where she will be home.  We have secret passwords and have reviewed stranger danger with her. 

One thing I’m still not comfortable with though is her walking home by herself or even with one friend her age.  We have allowed her to go to and from school a few times when we knew there was a large group going together with the oldest child in the group in grade 5.  Her school is about a 10 minute walk from our house. 

So I pick her up from school every day.  I go there straight after work and wait for her to come out.  Lately she’s been walking out with a little girl who lives a few houses down from us.  This little girl is the same age as Hope and walks home by herself everyday.  I have watched in alarm as she has darted across a busy street, not at an intersection.   I gave her a ride home a few times until she told me she wasn’t allowed to get a ride from me because her dad told her she “needed to get used to walking long distances by herself.”  Whhaaa???

Sometimes, Hope rides her scooter or her bike to school and if the weather is nice wants to scooter or ride her bike home.  Well, you know what that means, right?  Lol.. I gave her a very specific route to go home by – the one that utilizes the crossing guards – and then I shadow her in the car.  It must look very goofy, but yes, I stalk my daughter home.  And truly it might look (be) a little strange but I’m just not OK yet with that step and she’s OK with that set up, too.  And then I know she’s gets home safely!   But I do laugh to myself everytime it happens.  Like yesterday.  :o) 

She wants to know when she’ll be able to go to and from school by herself.  Maybe when she’s attending the new school and it’s only a 3 minute walk from our house.

I was Like...

I love my daughter.  She is everything that is goofy and funny and sensitive and smart and dramatic.  She is also in grade three.  Currently that means that we relive every funny (to her) minute in a rendition that starts with…

“and you were like…….   And then I was like………….”  Followed by hysterical laughter.  Which is basically an invitation to repeat the same sentence again but a bit more exaggerated. 

This cycle continues until the original scene is completely unrecognizable and they forget why it was funny in the first place.

We had just arrived home from Brownies last night and I said something to her which she thought was funny and prompted a “reliving”.

“hahah you were like ‘we’re home’ and I was like ‘I know’!”     ahhahahahahaha

Hope, I say.  'I was here two minutes ago when this happened.  You don’t need to remind me what I just said.'  (what a mom thing to say, huh? But that’s not the point)

Anyways, so this morning I’m yakking to my hubby on the phone….don’t you love that word?  Yakking.     Right. 

And I tell him the story of the “I’m like…” to him.  I may have imitated her a couple times.  He says to me ‘you know you’re doing the same thing right now, right?’

Hahahah..whaa???  oh.  Dadgum he was right.

And now, apparently, I’m doing it again.  ;o)

Hands Free

Working at a manufacturing facility that strives to be World Class in its manufacturing standards and to be in conformance with the British Retail Consortium means that everything must be stringently clean. 

So we try to actually touch stuff as little as possible and there’s hand washing constantly.  You go to the washroom, you wash (of course).  You sneeze, you wash.  You eat, you wash.  You go outside then come back in, you wash.  You blow your nose, you wash.  Wash wash wash.

Also, it means pretty much everything is motion sensored.  You walk in a room or area and the lights turn on.  As long as you’re moving around in there, the lights stay on. 

This can become a problem if you are in the washroom for a longer period of time….now I’m not sure how long the timer is set for, but it has happened that the lights will suddenly turn off and it becomes pitch black in the washroom.  This requires a graceful (and slightly frantic) waving of the hand while trying to stay on the toilet in order for the sensor to be activated and the lights turn back on. 

It has happened, too, where I’m at home and walk into a dark room and pause, waiting for the lights to turn on….then I clue in and remember that at home, I actually have to turn the lights on myself. 

Back to the washroom….cause that’s where the funny stuff happens….the toilet also flushes on a sensor.  So I learned the hard way that if you lean forward at all while sitting on the toilet that it thinks you have gotten up and will flush.  That is a cold and splashy experience.  Although strangely my little boy is going through a faze right now where he likes to flush while sitting on the toilet.  I think it makes him feel dangerous and gives him a thrill.  I, however, now make sure that I sit very still and upright the entire time. 

When I do stand up it will flush again.  Then I zip up my pants and buckle my belt and depending on how long I stand in the same place in front of the toilet, when I am done, it will flush again.  My record is 5 flushes in one washroom experience, in case you were curious – and I know you were. ;o)

Then I’m on to the motion sensored tap that is always cold and never really warms up.  I tested it once on a particularly boring day.  Just to see if it would ever actually warm up like the maintenance engineer assured me it would.  The answer is no, the best it gets is a coldish lukewarm.  I use that as my excuse to not wash my hands for the full singing of Happy Birthday twice through like the sign beside the sink advises me to.  Although the day I was testing it to see if it ever got warm I was washing my hands for like, 5 minutes. 

All in all, I think you can tell that I have a pretty exciting job.    

To Paint (Again)

So I’ve decided to paint Miss H’s room.  Why I keep painting her room (this will be the 3^rd time) while other rooms in the house (like the master bedroom) are still desperately waiting for their first repainting I don’t know and I don’t care to examine too closely. 

I first painted her room a (what I thought would be) lovely sunny yellow.  It turned out more….mustardy.  Ech.   That’s when she was 3 years old and we had just moved into the house. 

When she was turning 5, I repainted her room again.  She was away at my parents’ house for the week and I thought it would be such a wonderful surprise for her to paint her room her favourite colour.  Pink!  I painted the lower ¾ of the walls a bubblegum pink and the top ¼ a more raspberry colour with a white moulding separating the two pinks.  Super cute and super pink.  Pink had been her favourite colour her WHOLE LIFE to that point, so I felt fairly confident with the colour choice.  I accented the pink with black suede curtains and a black crystal chandelier.   Then she got home from my parents and while she loved the room, informed me that her favourite colour was actually now blue.  Sigh.  So like her.  I should have seen it coming a mile away. 

So she’s had the pink room for three years now and it’s time for another change.  The thing is, I really don’t want to spend much (read any) money on it.  And wouldn’t you know, I happen to have a full bucket of never been opened paint in the garage.  We had bought two gallons of the colour from back in our townhouse days but had only ended up needing one gallon.  It’s a Ralph Lauren colour: Blue Leather.  It’s a very deep gray/blue colour.  More gray than blue.  Perfect, I thought, for my girl.  Very grown up, you know.  So we talked about it.  I painted a few squares on her wall to try to get a feeling of how it would look.  It’s dark - I’m not gonna lie.  And with the black curtains and chandelier, she’ll be living in a veritable cave.  Of course,  she likes it.  She thinks it will be like a teenager’s room.  And being almost 8, the idea of having a teenager-type is very appealing. 

So I’m gonna do it.  I’ll paint it next week while she is (again) up at my mom and dad’s place.  Her latest favourite colour is yellow so I believe I will try to find a bright (light) hopefully yellow duvet cover at Ikea.  And I believe I’ve seen a yellow metal earring screen in the shape of the Eiffel Tower at Claire’s which would also go well because Paris and Yellow are her two current favourite things.   Put a few posters on the wall and there we go. 

I haven’t been able to upload pictures to the blog because my husbandy has been making me use my new iphone as our camera instead of our 7 year old clunker camera but I have been to lazy to try don’t know how to upload the photos to our computer from the phone yet so that’s a problem. 

If and when I do figure out the picture thing, I’ll post some.  Or here’s a brilliant idea – I’ll use the old camera to take some pictures of the room makeover.  Yah, yah…..that’s using the ol’ noodle.  I’ll keep you posted.

To Perishky or not Perishky

I don’t know what’s going on, but lately, I’ve been having this very odd need to make a lot of Mennonite food.  This shouldn’t be odd, really, because for heaven’s sake I am Mennonite.  We've got Bergen's and Thiessen's and Wiebe's in my background...And I married a Mennonite - that's Penners and Sawatzky's, oh my.  That’s a full-on Mennonite heritage right there. 

But I’ve never really made so much of the Mennonite food apart from cottage cheese verencki and farmer sausage and the one time I made rollkuchen. 

So I’ve been thinking about making borscht for a few weeks now.  Who knows why – I have never even liked borscht. 

All those church lunches where they served borscht and buns, saints preserve me, those were a trial to get through.  And the countless pots of borscht my mom made….the only way for me to get through those was that my dad would promise me that I could have whatever change was in his pocket at the time if I could finish by borscht within the next minute or so.  There was always one quarter in his pocket.  He obviously came prepared to the borscht meals but I never clued in to that and always hoped to find more, I mean, I would see numerous times when he would have a whole pocket of change.  I would always be hoping to get the jackpot, but no, ever only the one quarter. 

So last weekend, I actually made borscht.  I bought a shank bone and followed the recipe from Mennonite Girls Can Cook.  The only difference was that I used purple cabbage instead of the traditional green which turned the potatoes purple.  My mother in law came over for dinner and I served my borscht and yes, I even made fresh buns from scratch.  Does it get more Mennonite than that?  Well, maybe if I had made zweibach….but that seemed like too much work so it was just the plain buns for me.  My mom in law really liked the borscht and so did Aven; the kids, not so much.  As for me, I can’t say that I loved it, but in truth, I did like it.   I even took leftovers for lunch for the following week. 

So mom and dad….next time you come for dinner….hahaha….you get borscht and buns!  I’m not sure if you’ll be happy about that or not.

And now, now I’m thinking about what to feed Aven for lunch during the week.  He doesn’t have access to a microwave because he’s out on a construction site and he really is not a big fan of sandwiches.  So today I sort of hit upon the idea of Fleisch Perishky.  That’s meat pockets to all you Non-Mennonites out there. So of course I went to the source of all good Mennonite Recipes, Mennonite Girls Can Cook, and found the recipe.  Then I saw the recipe for Fruit Perishky and thought those looked delicious….so you know what I’ll be doing all weekend, right?! 

Next thing you know, it’s a steady diet of rollkuchen, borscht, verencki,  plumi moos, platz, kotletten, ruhrei, and perishky. 

Is this normal?  Am I normal?  Or maybe a little crazy.   Probably a little crazy.

Maybe this has something to do with my Opa being sick.  I didn’t really ever have an Oma that made all sorts of yummy things – my mom’s mom lived out Winnipeg and so I didn’t see her so often and if she did make those yummy things, they couldn’t really be sent by mail.  I wasn’t ever a super fan of the only cookie that could be sent – Honig Kuchen. She’s gone, now, anyhow.   My other Oma died when I was very little and the woman who became my new Oma, while she makes a lot of Mennonite dishes, I don’t really recall her food other than her zweibach – a bag of which I received for my last birthday which was a very welcome gift.

Both sets of Aven’s grandparents are out in the prairies, although his original Omas are no longer with us either.

Once my Opa is gone, that’s kinda it for me as far as Opa’s and Oma’s go.   Maybe this food thing is an instinctive way for me to somehow cling on to a heritage that’s getting farther and farther away with each generation.   A way to pass on something to my kids.   

So, I guess I will make my perishky and and borscht.  We’ll serve rollkuchen and raboose (watermelon) in the summer…

Maybe other recipes will find their way to my stove or oven…but one thing I can guarantee I will never make is the ikra (shudder).

This and That

Gosh, this year suddenly feels like it’s speeding by.  June always goes by in a blur, filled with recitals and other school-year end activities. 

Miss H has lost her second tooth, now.  It flew out last Sunday – she’d wiggled it to death and then pleaded with Aven to pull it out.  He tied the thread and gave it a good yank.  Well, the tooth came out, but it whizzed right by his ear and since we were outside, landed in the grass.  We still haven’t found it.  But Miss H wrote a note to the Tooth Fairy explaining the situation and asking for “$5 or more” still for the tooth.  I reminded her that the Tooth Fairy had written in her last little note that she gave the most money for the first tooth lost only and so maybe H should be careful that she’s not sounding greedy.  “Oh, you’re right!”  she said.  She grabs her note and crosses out the “or more” part and writes in “or less.”

The toothfairy came that night and left a toonie.  No note (because I didn’t think she would be losing a tooth last weekend!) and when Hope saw it she was mightily disappointed that it wasn’t a fiver. 

Aven thinks she won’t be quite as impatient to get her next tooth out now.  J

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about our camping trip that’s coming up – our first family camping trip!  We’re heading out for two nights and well, since we had no camping stuff at all – like I’m talking not even a propane stove - we’ve had to buy it all new.  So we’ll be putting up all our shiny new camping stuff like the newbies we are, but I’m sure we’ll get the hang of things quickly.  I’m already making lists of stuff to bring, the menu, grocery list, etc.  I’m EXCITED!  I think it will be an amazing time…and hopefully it doesn’t rain.  

Our little man is alternately frustrating/heart melting.  He holds his hands up to be picked up in a big hug and he says softly in my ear “You my mommy.  Me your son.”  This little one is our snuggler.  Our toucher.  He has to know where everyone is all the time.  You can see him look around periodically, no matter what he’s doing and take an inventory of where everyone is and what they’re doing.  If someone’s not home, he must ask occasionally to reaffirm that this person is where he thinks they are.  “Daddy at work?”  “Daddy come home soon?”  “Where H?”  “H at Brownies?” 

At night he is drawn like a magnet into our bed.  We carry him back to his own bed when he falls asleep and 20 minutes he’s back.  We’ve basically given up on trying to force him to stay in his own bed and pray that this is something that he will just naturally grow out of.  Aven despairs that even if M gets a football scholarship to a school in the States, he won’t be able to go cause it’s too far from home!  We’ll cross that road when we get to it. Lol.

Lately a neighbour boy has been coming over in the morning on Wednesdays and Thursdays and our nanny has been watching him as well for a few hours.  This has worked out so well for everyone, but especially M.  He has never had someone come over just to play with him, so he gets so excited when this little boy comes over he.  When the doorbell rings he runs up to the door, flings it open and says “Come in my friend!” 

This weekend we have Aven’s work barbeque to attend.  Attendance is not optional for this event.  I had forgotten about it and rsvp’d affirmatively to a birthday party that H had been invited to then had to reverse the response.  Miss H had been devastated that she would be missing the party because it was at Chucky Cheese – her favourite place and somewhere I avoid at all costs – but she got over it once Aven mentioned there was to be a prize draw at the bbq. 

Tonight we’re having salmon for dinner.  I love salmon.  I’m trying to make my family love salmon.  So far no luck.  We’ll have it tonight barbequed on a cedar plank – yum – if the rain holds off that is.  Otherwise it will be baked in the oven. 

The last time we had it, M refused to eat any of it and if even the tiniest bit got mixed up with his other food and somehow ended up in his mouth he put out his tongue and carefully picked off the offending bit.  And then the next night Miss H asked what we were having for dinner and M broke in anxiously “Not salmon.  No not salmon, right?”

Shaking his head and looking at me for confirmation.  Hahaha.  Poor kids.  Such torture I put them through.  Miss H will eat the salmon and I think she actually doesn’t even mind it.  As long as I don’t serve it too often.

I heard once on a radio show how a mom, whenever her daughter was upset or stressed out, she would give her salmon and broccoli as ‘comfort food’ in the hopes that this would be what her daughter would turn to later in life instead of the typical high fat / high sugar fare that typically constitutes comfort food.  I wonder if it worked.  I can’t imagine it, can you? 

I’m also thinking about M’s birthday – it’s not coming up til August, but I usually start planning it in my brain around May.  It’s goofy I know, and totally not fair to H because after spending 3 ½ months planning every detail of M’s birthday, I’m usually partied out and don’t have the energy to plan hers which happens three weeks later.   

…so for M’s party – I think we’re going to do a picnic in the park that’s close to our house.  We’ll have picnic food and play games like potato sack race and duck duck goose and we’ll do a lemonade bar – a great idea I saw on Savvy Mom.  The cake will look like a watermelon….oh boy oh boy. 

I’ve even got the party favours already!  Heehee I had to snap them up when I saw them cause they were just PERFECT!    You’ll find out what they are when I post pictures…in August.

Other than that, I will attempt to post a little more frequently and maybe even get a picture or two up.  Over and out.

Ups and Downs....a normal week.

I’ve been meaning to post all week but it’s been so busy!  So I’m squeezing some time out right now to keep y’all informed.

I know you’re dying to know how Mother’s day went and I will not disappoint you – it was amazing.  Aven did not disappoint me at all – in fact it was the best Mother’s Day I’ve ever had.

It was a full Mother’s Day weekend really.  Friday night me and the girl packed up and headed out to the Mother/Daughter Spa Sleepover with her Brownies group where we made spa stuff and worked on badges together.  It was some good bonding time and the girls worked so hard to serve us breakfast and lunch on Saturday.  Very sweet.

And when we got home, I found Aven had fixed our bikes!  They had flat tires and needed some grease after a long winter in the garage. And I got a new iphone!  He said that wasn’t a Mother’s Day gift, it just happened to coincide with Mother’s Day but still, Awesome!  

I had actually weaseled it out of my little boy when I was tucking him in for nap…I said “you had fun with daddy today?”  and he said “We went to the mall!”  is his super cute little boy voice.  My ears perked up….”Oh?  Did you get something for Mommy at the mall?”  I asked.  I really am shameless.  “It’s a surprise” he answered.  “Surprise.”  He whispers this all secretly.  He loves having a secret.  Although I don’t have to wait long before he says “Surprise phone!”   Phone, eh?!  Sweet!

So I go downstairs and toy with Aven…letting him know I was on to his little secret.  That was the fun part!

Then on Sunday….the magic happened.  It all started with a sleep in.  Then after a long and relaxing shower, Aven made me a breakfast of eggs, a banana, and coffee and served it to me outside on the back patio because it was so lovely outside.   Then came the lovely card from him and homemade cards from both kids and the gift – a set of my favourite skin care line (Estee Lauder). 

I was on nursery duty at church, so off the kids and I went and then came home a lunch of bbq hotdogs and chips. 

After nap time we loaded up the bikes and headed off to Fort Langley where we biked along the Fort Trail by the river and ended up at the park where we played with the kids until dinner.  Then it was a picnic of KFC in our backyard.  Perfection.

And then it was back to work and reality on Monday.  Blech.

On Tuesday I was walking out the backdoor to go to our garage and saw something on our backyard that didn’t look familiar.  It was just starting to get light so I couldn’t see very well.  I leaned over this thing to get a closer look and then I saw what it was.

EwwwEwwwwEwwwww…..it was  a RAT with it’s lower half, ummm, open.   I could see everything, intestines, stomach…..YECH.  And the worst part was that Aven leaves through the front door so that meant I had to clean it up so the kids wouldn’t see it.  I grabbed a shovel and carefully shoveled the thing into a garbage bag.  Then I had to use the shovel to pick up the smaller chunks of rat that were strewn around the yard. 

The cats were all prancing around, so proud of themselves.  I know Lola is the hunter, but Georgie was probably in the vicinity so he was taking credit, too. 

I through the Rat corpse bag into the garbage, got in the car, and then dry heaved the whole way into work. 

That was a spectacular way to start the day.  I kept trying to console myself with the fact that the rat was at least dead and in the garbage and not running around inside my house.  But still…… EEEEEEWWWWWWWWW.

Wednesday passed slowly.  I was in a bad mood, tired of everything and everyone and snapped at the kids a lot.  Not a great day.  Luckily Aven shooed me up to the bathtub and I managed to get through the evening without injuring anyone.

Thursday Miss H had her dance class.  She’s tired of dance class.  I don’t understand why – she loves to dance, she loves the costumes, she loves performing.  She just doesn’t like going to classes.  But off we went and she had fun and then it was back into the Brownie outfit and off to the Bike Parade in Cloverdale.  Unfortunately it started early so we missed the parade but got there just in time for the prize draw.  And Miss H won a Horse Webkinz.  She promptly named him BullsEye but after 15 minutes changed it to Mr. Fluffyfeet.  Who knows what it is now. 

Today was Western Day in tribute to the Cloverdale Rodeo this weekend.  The girl wore a jean vest, a white shirt and jean shorts with her purple belt that has the horse belt buckle and cowboy hat.  The kids were encouraged to bring their hobby horses to ride in races at school and they were serving a pancake breakfast for lunch.  Super fun! 

So that was my week in a nutshell – fairly typical with its ups and downs.  I’m looking forward to the long weekend and am keeping my fingers crossed for lots of sun!     

Mother's Day Expectations

Yesterday, my dear dear Husband asked me what I would like to do for Mother’s Day.  I replied with the usual “Oh well, you know, just to spend time with my lovely family”. 

And you moms KNOW that’s code for “I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, honey, but it better be frickin’ AMAZING!” 

And then I ran across this article at SavvyMom that actually really did describe the perfect Mother’s Day:

“9:00 am – Wake to the delicious smell of Kick Ass Kicking Horse coffee, fully rested after 11 straight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

9:10 am – Receive butterfly kisses and handmade cards from children with sweet-smelling breath. My darling angels offer up a tray of low-carb breakfast goodies, steaming coffee and a posy of tulips plucked fresh from the garden. 

9:30 am – Have a long luxurious bath, scented with Tom Ford’s Neroli Portofino Body Oil, while the kids clean up the bomb that went off in the kitchen during production of breakfast. 

11:00 am – Put on a new outfit from lululemon (thank you, kids!) and the whole family ecstatically agrees to go for a 10K bike ride around Stanley Park.

12:30 pm – Stop for a water break at Third Beach, where set between some driftwood, is a gourmet picnic spread atop a vintage wool blanket. Dive into a huge assortment of sandwiches from Whole Foods, farm-fresh organic strawberries and a chilled glass of Joie’s Noble Blend wine.

2:30 pm – After the children make me a tiara of mini-daisies and recite original poems about how much they love their mother, a handsome man on a pedicab whisks me away to the Vida Spa at the Sutton Place Hotel, where my muscles are oiled, pummeled and stretched to oblivion. 

5:00 pm – I am escorted home to a candlelight dinner (no take-out boxes in sight), after which I am presented with a beautiful charm necklace from Luxe Design, adorned with the names and birthstones of each of our children. 

9:00 pm – After the kids are tucked into bed, we watch Modern Family on the PVR and laugh hysterically at our favourite neurotic mom, Claire Dunphy.

They say a happy wife is a happy life, and remember, Father’s Day is just around the corner.”  Tested by Nancy C., Vancouver

You know I emailed this article straight off to my husband.  Got to give him a little heads up that expectations are high, hey?! 

Anatomy of a Perfect Weekend

Includes:

A great time with the kids and a dear friend with her kids at a local playplace followed by the requisite McDonalds lunch

A nine hour date with my husband which included a full browse in every store up and down South Granville, a lovely dinner in Yaletown, and finished off with a movie.

A sunny Sunday spent doing a little gardening, a little reading, a little trip to the park, and eating our barbecued dinner outside.

Hanging laundry on the line outside to smell Summer-fresh.

Those are the things that feed my soul.

And.  You know what I did?  I bought a Christmas present.  Yes I did.  I confess I am not one of those people that buy gifts all year long, although I envy them and their lack of stress around December.  I have always thought November was early, let alone MAY!   I guess I always think when it’s that early that I don’t really want to commit to anything because I may see something even better.  And I hate regretting a purchase.  And so I wait until mid–December when I’m sure that I have seen all there is to see.  But I’m going to try to do it different this year.  So while we were in Pottery Barn kids I picked up a few stocking stuffers for Miss H.   I reminded Aven that Christmas was only 7 months away.  He said I wasn’t allowed to use the word “only” when we were still closer to the previous Christmas than the next one.  He might have a point.

But you know what?  I like it.  Preparedness – it’s a good thing.  And I will continue to do this so by the time we get to December all we have to do is worry about decorating!  Ha!  I’ll let you know if that actually plays out the way I’m imagining.

And while I’m thinking of it….what did y’all think of The Hunger Games?  I admit to being really disturbed by it.  I know its not real life – just fiction, but gah, the whole premise of it really disgusted me and I’m not entirely sure I’m glad I watched it. 

I’m more of a “Secretariat” movie kinda gal.  If you haven’t watched it, you should.  Definitely. 

And now its Monday.  Although the weekend was fabulous, I didn’t get much prep done for the week which means today I’m baking muffins, and biscuits with farmer sausage, and cutting up veggies.   …after a full day of work, of course. 

In the Aftermath

Now that the awful incident at work has sort of died down, the fall out has begun.   I never saw it coming.  I should have but I didn't.

I've had three conversations now with three different guys about amazing diets that have worked for them - South Beach, Atkins, etc. 

Super well meaning, super friendly..... I just keep this smile plastered on my face. 

Oh Lord, let this madness end.

Amen.

My Hot Air Balloon Girl

I was wondering what she was so busy doing with all her construction paper that she was taping and weaving together. 

She had made what looks like a large mat, about 3 ft x 3 ft comprised of many layers of paper taped and woven together.  Along the edges she had stacked rolled up papers about two rolls high.  I thought perhaps she was making some amazing art project like she tends to do.  Turns out she intended it for so much more.

She had casually mentioned to me one day that she was going to build a hot air balloon.  Hot air balloons had caught her attention lately.  Aven commended her on her big idea and then told her that when she had completed her engineering degree and researched exactly what goes into building a hot air balloon she should certainly go for it. 

Seems she didn’t want to wait that long.

This paper mat was actually the basket to her hot air balloon.  The rolled up paper edges were the sides of the basket.

She says to me that she is planning a trip and will be gone probably about two nights.  I shouldn’t worry, though, she’ll be just fine in her hot air balloon. 

I ask her if she’s sure that the basket she made will hold her.  Oh, she is definitely sure.

“Well, what will you make the balloon part out of?” I ask her.  She thinks a large sheet will work. 

“How will your hot air balloon get off the ground?” I persist.  She thinks the wind will do a fine job, just like it lifts a kite, why wouldn’t it lift her sheet?! 

I mention to her that a hot air balloon actually rises off ground through the use of heat to warm the air inside the balloon causing it to rise. 

“I guess I’ll need a lighter, then.” She says, bless her heart.

“I don’t know if the lighter will be enough”, I respond.  “A hot air balloon usually uses a huge fire.”  I make an awesome hot air balloon fire sound.  I’m all about sound effects.

“I’m worried a fire like that will catch your sheet on fire” I say.

So our intrepid hot air balloon traveler is grounded for now but I know she’ll make something amazing one day.  I love that she doesn’t let a few details like having actually no idea what she’s doing and having no proper materials stop her from trying to get it started and off the ground.  This is an ideas girl.  She will go far, you mark my word.

Life is Messy

Have you ever noticed while reading blogs, especially “mom” blogs that it would seem that they lead perfect lives?  No one posts about the crap in life that happens.  And that makes sense.  Why would someone want to share with the whole world something that is painful to them?  There are of course the blogs that are basically dedicated to one large traumatic event – loss of a child, infertility, cancer, etc.  And those blogs are wonderful but not what I’m referring to.  I’m talking about the mess of life that happens to us.  Why does no one really blog about those things?  Don’t get me wrong – birthdays, renovations, funny things our kids did….those are good things but they don’t make up LIFE.  Life is messy and hurtful and ugly at times.  I would be greatly comforted if I could read about someone else’s horribly embarrassing situation that didn’t end in an amazing life lesson or blossoms flowering everywhere because that’s not always how bad situations end.  Sometimes life is just hard.  Period. 

And because I would like to “put it out there” I will start.  I had a horrible experience last week.   Hurtful and humiliating, actually.

Working with 70 men has had its challenges over the years and there have been some interesting situations but nothing like happened this time.

It was Friday after my lunch break and I was walking from the ladies locker room through the main lunch room to head back down the stairs to the office.  I was almost to the stairs when I hear a fellow call out “Hey, Angela!”  I turn and see one of the shippers named Imran walking up to me.  “How are you doing?” he asks – he always talks in a loud voice.  “Fine, thanks” I answer and then he says in his loud voice “You’re looking larger.  You getting bigger, eh?”  I look at him because I can’t assimilate the words that he’s saying with his friendly tone of voice.  I say “Pardon me?”  which was a stupid thing to say – like I want him to repeat that – maybe I was trying to give him a chance to retract.  Mostly I was probably in a complete state of shock.  I should also mention that he had his arms out wide and moving them up and down like “Holy shit you’re huge” and also the lunch room was not empty.  No, there were a few fellows in there watching this with interest.    And I mean, I know I could lose a few pounds.  It’s not like I don’t WANT to.  And its not like I need it pointed out to me in front of everyone by this yahoo.

Anyways, so I say “Pardon me?” and he says “you should exercise – don’t you like to exercise?”  …and he keeps repeating this as well as the fact that I’m looking larger.

At this point I realized the situation was not going to improve so I turned and left the lunch room, basically running down the stairs to the safety of my desk.  The guy is following me, he has obviously picked up on the fact that I’m upset and he keeps trying to say he didn’t mean anything by it…  Finally, three quarters of the way down the stairs I turn to him and say “I think you should just F**K OFF!”

Then I rushed to my desk in total disbelief at what had just happened and text Aven to get some love.  I sat there staring blankly at my desk for the next 45 minutes, tears slipping down my cheeks as I wait desperately for Aven to text me back some reassurance.   He doesn’t disappoint me and his anger and outrage at this guy helps me pull myself together. 

I hear one of the supervisors page this fellow on an unrelated matter and then after a pause I hear him exclaim “Well, you SHOULD feel bad!”  but he doesn’t say anything to me about it. 

The men that witnessed the unfortunate scene went out of their way for the rest of the day to compliment me and were extra friendly and nice which was almost comical in its obviousness, but I appreciated the intention and effort a lot. 

Thankfully it was the weekend and I put the incident out of my mind as best I could but returning to work on Monday I soon discovered that it was actually the hot topic of conversation around the plant.   Common thought is that women are the worst gossips, but I will tell you, that is not the truth.  Ladies, we got nothing on these men when it comes to gossip, I will tell you. 

So first, in comes a shop steward.  Apparently Imran had talked to him “all distraught” about what he had said.  Except that what Imran told the shop steward did not include anything about me needing to exercise.  He simply told the shop steward that he had told me I looked “larger” which was a compliment where he was from.  That this was simply a matter of cultural differences.   When I explained what had ACTUALLY transpired, the shop steward told me I could push this fellow down the stairs if I liked and he would witness that the guy slipped. ;o) 

And then it turns out that the shop steward was not the only guy he was telling his “revised” sob story to.   I guess in that case it was fortunate for me that there were some guys he chose to do this in front of because they were able to set the record straight.  Although a bunch of men discussing my largeness and needing to exercise is not really something I would ever choose to have happen. 

One of the girls I work with did tell me that when the talk had reached her ears it was all negatively directed towards Imran and that the men were all very protective of me and my feelings in the whole situation.  This was a small consolation for me. 

Today when I came in to work there was a pot of mini roses and a lovely card “from the men in the shop” wishing me a wonderful day. 

At the end of the day, though, I still feel rather hurt and still humiliated over the whole incident.  I go out of my way to avoid this guy now.  I feel insecure about what people are saying about me and my not-perfect body.

Now I struggle with what my response will be to this guy who did the hurting and humiliating.  I feel God encouraging me to forgive.  The more human part of me feels like giving this guy a public set-down and not forgiving. 

I hope that whatever crap you’re facing in your life today, that you can draw some comfort and consolation that you are not the only one facing a mess.  I’m with ya, sister!  Bad days, crummy situations, inappropriate behavior, you can find it all right here.  Welcome to the club of life.

It's Out!

She lost that tooth.  Finally!  And the tooth fairy came as planned.  It was all fabulous! 

It's a bit of a goofy picture, but you get the idea! 

And here's a few pictures of my tulips.  The very first tulips I have ever grown.  I am inordinately proud of them!

And because my little son is insisting that I include a picture that has him in it....

And one more of my lilac tree.  We planted two lilac trees two years ago - they came courtesy of a job Aven was doing at the time.  (you know I love FREE!)  Anyways, last year only one of the trees bloomed.  This year only one tree is blooming but it's the one that didn't bloom last year.  The one that bloomed last year is stubbornly refusing to show any blossoms at all.  I think these trees are confused. 

It`s not fully in bloom yet, but in a few days, there will be glorious, beautifully scented purple lilac blossoms all over the place! 

I have decided that annuals are a waste of money and from now on I am only planting perennials.  I have potted a few azaleas in my pots where I would usually put annuals.  But I`m tired of having to replace them every year.  The only thing I`m not quite sure of is how a perennial would do in a hanging basket.  Maybe I`ll have to experiment a little this year. I`ll keep you posted on that.

Have a lovely weekend! 

Loose Tooth

Miss H has always been a late bloomer as far as her teeth go.  She got them in late when she was a baby and now here she is, almost 8, and has yet to lose a tooth. 

She has watched in envy as her friends started showing up to school with big gaps in their smile starting in kindergarten.  Her most fervent wish was to lose a tooth at school because then she would get to go to the office and have her tooth put in a special little box that they have just for that purpose. 

She finally got a loose tooth a few months ago.  She still has that tooth, it’s still wiggly, and two adult teeth are popping up behind her bottom two center baby teeth.   She calls them her Shark Teeth because now she has the two rows of teeth like sharks have.  We went to the dentist to get the situation checked out and the dentist assured us that her tongue would keep pushing the new teeth forward which would, in turn, help the baby teeth come out.  He encouraged Hope to keep wiggling the loose tooth and eat some apple slices or carrot sticks! 

Well, H took him seriously and literally spent the whole next day wiggling her loose tooth.  By the time I picked her up from school the next day the tooth could bend almost the whole way forward.  She could feel the bottom ridge of the tooth with her tongue when she tipped it forward.  She was so hoping the tooth would come out that evening – she really wanted a visit from the Tooth Fairy. 

Miss H confided in me that she was going to write a letter to the Tooth Fairy requesting a pair of Fairy Wings and a map to Fairy World because she would like to be a Tooth Fairy, too.  She started describing how she would shrink so small to fit the pair of wings that the Tooth Fairy would leave and how she would go to school to be a Tooth Fairy.  “Do you want me to ask for two pairs of wings so you can come, too, Mom?” she asks me.  “Cause I’ll probably have to be there a long time if I’m going to school and stuff there in Fairy World.” 

I said I definitely also would like a pair of fairy wings.

It’s funny to me that she knows the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus are not real and yet she still believes that the Tooth Fairy does exist.  Total separation of ideas, I guess.

She tried to get it the rest of the way out but the tooth was feeling stubborn and even trying to pull it out with dental floss didn’t do the trick. 

I’m wondering if maybe the tooth came out at school day or if it’s still hanging in there.  I had bought a special little Tooth Fairy Purse a few weeks ago.  It’s super cute.  It comes with a tiny tooth pocket to put the tooth in under the pillow and then you put the money in the purse and exchange the purse for the tooth pocket. 

I’m going out tonight to pick up some sparkles (fairy dust) and a few trinkets to exchange for that all important “First Lost Tooth”.  I typed up a letter from the Tooth Fairy named “Tabitha” because H mentioned that her friend’s tooth fairy was named Tabitha and she wondered what her Tooth Fairy’s name was.  I guess they have the same one! 

I will sprinkle some sparkles in a trail from the window sill to her pillow (Fairy Dust!) and leave the letter explaining why she can’t be a tooth fairy (she’s much too gifted a human girl and we must bloom where we’re planted).  Should do the trick.  «

She’s gonna love it!!  I’ll post a picture when we get that most-coveted gap.

And here's a picture just for fun....

Easter Weekend

I haven’t had time to post in the last few days and it feels like so much has happened (nothing major – just lots of little stuff) and what typically happens is I overwhelm myself with all I want to write and so I end up writing exactly nothing.

I’m going to try to not do that this time.

So I’ll start where we left off…Easter weekend.

On Good Friday we spent the morning decorating Easter Eggs.  This was M’s first time dying Easter Eggs and I think it’s safe to say he loves it.  Although he has the patience of a fly and so always wanted to take the eggs out of the dye after about 2 seconds.  I had ended up just hardboiling the eggs instead of blowing them out as I usually do.  I tried to blow out a couple but both eggs ended up cracking so I threw up my hands in disgust and gave up.  So each child had 5 eggs to dye.  It didn’t seem like enough.  Next year I’m gonna have to splurge for two dozen eggs I think.  The thing is that I have a horrible guilty conscience buying just one dozen white eggs – those poor chickens! – let alone two dozen.  Is there such a thing as free range white eggs and I just haven’t seen them? 

Friday afternoon we all napped.  I mean all 4 of us.  And we slept. All of us.   It was lovely.  And obviously much needed.  Much refreshed we went to my brother’s house to celebrate my beautiful little niece’s third birthday.  It was a really fun time with good food and good visiting and tons of kids.   There’s so much good stuff you could get a three year old, you know?  Three is the prime gift giving age, I think.  We ended up finding her a high chair for her dolly that also converts to a little swing.  I hope she gets lots of use out of it.  I could totally picture her feeding her babies in it!

On Saturday morning we headed out to the Up Park for a neighbourhood Easter Egg hunt.  It was put on by a local church and it was really fun to see all the neighbourhood kids there with their Easter Baskets.  The sun was shining and the feeling community was very strong.  I liked it.  A lot.  There were games to start which was really just kids running back and forth in a barely organized chaos.  I think they had fun, though!   

Then there was a mad scramble for eggs and candy that were not so much hidden as thrown-about-randomly.  I think it might have been fun if they had actually hidden the eggs, but that’s just me.  M didn’t get much candy because every little candy he would find he would pick up and in the time it took him to hold it up to me and say “Look Mommy!  Lollipop!” and carefully place it in his basket, all the other candy around him had been snatched up.  H, on the other had, carefully strategized with Aven her best plan to get maximum candy and had cleaned up quite handily.

Also on Saturday Aven started his building project for the year.  Or, I should say, the first building project of the year.   I already have another one in mind for him!  But the project he did during the weekend was to build a platform over the steps in our backyard leading down to our basement door.  When our house was first being built, we had specifically told our contact at the builder’s that we did not want the door in our basement or the steps in the back yard leading down to said door.  Our back yard is small and those stairs eat up a lot of realestate.   So we happened to be driving by the building site just as the builders where pouring the concrete for the steps.  When Aven approached the foreman, he said that would have been no problem to leave the stairs out but it was too late now. Apparently our contact ‘forgot’ to pass on our request.  Bugger.  Hence the platform.  The big black metal railings are gone and there is now a lovely raised little platform that is waiting for me to stain it.  It has opened our back yard right up and it is just so much better.  I will have to post some pictures.  Sadly I always forget to take the ‘before’ pictures. 

Saturday evening after the little man’s nap we piled in the truck and headed out to West Vancouver to visit Aven’s mom.  She has recently moved out there and we had yet to see her new apartment.  She made us a fabulous dinner and then we headed out to spend the rest of the evening at the ocean side.  There’s a great playground and rock area to play on and the kids had such a fun time we had a hard time dragging them away.  I must confess that I feeling a bit grumbly on the way there.  I was feeling very put out because she had previously lived 2 minutes from us and I had really liked that.  Now she’s much farther and it bugged me.  After sitting by the ocean for a few minutes though, I appreciated the location she had chosen and decided to give up my selfish thoughts and enjoy the gift of a reason to visit the ocean that much more.  I do believe West Vancouver and I will become good friends. 

On Easter Sunday I had to work.  Blech. 

The Easter Bunny didn’t come until the afternoon for us because of that but it was still fun.  I told the truth to H about the Easter Bunny because she had asked me point blank and wouldn’t accept my evading answering-with-questions responses.  And one hand it did seem to sink in that Aven and I were the Easter Bunny but on the other hand, although we were out and she was with us the whole time she would say “Why hasn’t the Easter Bunny come yet?  I don’t understand…”   And just other things she would say indicated that she wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with the fact that there really was no Easter Bunny.  Funny girl.

 

On Easter Monday I had to work.  Double Blech.  Especially since everyone else that I knew was not working.  Ah well, that’s life.  Suck it up, Buttercup.  Just be glad you have a job when lots don’t.  That’s my pep talk to myself.

The other day me and Miss H were driving along and I had scratched my nose or something with one had and kept the other on the shifter.  (cause I drive stick.  That’s right.  And I LOVE it but that’s another post entirely!)   So suddenly I hear from the back seat “Mom!  You were driving there with NO HANDS for a minute!”   Oh yeah.  I tried to brush it off casually because I was expecting a serious lecture from Miss Safety Nazi.  Instead I hear her breathe “That was sooo cool!” 

Yeah, that’s right.  I will probably always remember that because I seem to rapidly moving over to the not-cool side of life in her eyes.   

I will leave you with a few photos taken by our budding photographer, Miss H...