- Do what you say and think before you say it
- You must have patience with your kids. You'll go crazy if you don't
- Find your sense of humour
- Use simple words and get to the point
- Yelling is the worst way to communicate
- Teach by example
- Allow disagreements
- Listen, really listen
- Be consistent
- Follow through
- Practice patience
- Play with your children
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Florida is now appealing the judgment from a Miami-Dade judge declaring that Florida's 30+ year old law violated equal protection rights. It seems that the state of Florida believes that gay and lesbians just aren't healthy safe people to whom they should entrust the care of children (overlooking the fact that they allow gay and lesbian foster parents - it's only when the parenting becomes permanent that we somehow become a threat). The state plans to argue that we "have higher odds of suffering from depression, affective and anxiety disorders and substance abuse, and that their households are more unstable"*.
I can't wait to hear how they plan to prove that one.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
And today I stumbled upon an AMAZING sale!
I was at the mall to pick up a last minute item (that I'm still kicking myself for not getting yesterday when I was there because it was gone today.) I thought it was odd that people were walking around the store putting items into shopping bags, but I thought maybe they were just using them instead of baskets. Then a lady came up and said "you DO know about the deal going on don't you?" Am I ever glad she told me!
Turns out that you could go up to the cash, ask for a bag and then fill it with any of their items that had 50% off stickers. The whole bag then cost you $5.00. Yup, you read right, FIVE DOLLARS!!!
Well!! When I went up to get my bag I asked if it was limited to just one. NOPE! As many as you want. So I took 4. I figured I could blow $20 on Christmas eve!!
I walked out of there with more then $300 worth of stuff. I think I now have NEXT years Christmas shopping done!
Merry Christmas Eve to me.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
So far when I've worked at home Liam has been in school. We have some time that overlaps; I start work an hour before he leaves in the morning and he's home an hour before my day ends. Those are quiet hours for him though where he is easily occupied while he wakes up or winds down.
Yesterday was the start of Christmas vacation for Liam. Hilary and I however had to work. We found a great program at our local wave pool. It was a day camp for kids with arts, crafts, games and a swim. Liam loves the wave pool so we thought he would have a great time!
Yeah, not so much.
He cried in the morning that he didn't want to go. We coaxed, cajoled, threatened and bribed and got him there. By 10:00 they were calling to tell me that he was sitting in the corner with his tiger Ralphie, crying and refusing to participate. Boy, did that make me feel swell. The program director said that they were going to try and get him engaged and not to come pick him up just yet, but they just wanted to give me a heads up. When Hilary picked him up at 4:00 he was jammin' on Guitar Hero and having a great time. So we figured that going again today would work out all right.
Yeah, not so much.
He decided before bed last night that he wasn't going back. No way, no how! After feeling like a schmuck for making our child cry in a corner surrounded by strangers we decided to not force the issue and let him stay home. He knew that I had to work so I couldn't play and he couldn't bother me. Hilary stayed home too to get some last minute pre-Christmas stuff done.
My job is very task driven. I run a lot of reports that require an intense 30 seconds of work to set them up and then10 minutes of watching the gears spin around counting down the time till it's done. So having Hilary and Liam home while I work is not that big a deal. I can chat, pour milk, snap the hard pieces of Lego together as needed. On Tuesdays though I have a one hour conference call that I lead that several important people attend. I told Liam that this was happening and we laid out all the activities he could do while I was on the phone and covered all the activities he could not do. Could nots included shouting, loud toys in the room, interrupting etc.
Somehow though when a 6 year old sees a telephone in their parents hand they go berserk! He lasted about 1 minute of being quiet then started in on a loud stage whisper asking me questions. As I covered the mouth piece and tried to shoo him away he dissolved into a bit of a maniac (Hilary was previously occupied in the shower at this time, as the plan had been for her to take Liam out during my call but they were running behind.) As I shot him "the look" he decided to make raspberry noises on his arm, jump up and down, practice his arm-pit farts, wrap himself around my leg and generally be a menace.
Part of his outing with Hilary had been for him spend some of his cash and by a small toy. (Yeah, yeah, I know.. it's 2 days before Christmas.... ) In a fit of frustration I hissed at him "that's it, you are NOT buying a toy today!" Which of course was met with a loud wail akin to a wounded goat.
I banged on the bathroom door (all the while keeping the call going and trying to screen the noise out with my hand) and got Hilary to come out and deal with the whole situation. Apparently Liam sobbed for half an hour with her upstairs. I finished the call and we regrouped as a family. Appologies were given and accepted in all directions, hugs exchanged and there were promises to try better by everyone.
No one on my call seemed to notice the hoopla going on at my end of the call, or at least they were polite enough not to comment on it!
I had planned on working at home for the remainder of the holiday season (and perhaps beyond if I can convince my boss that this should be a full time thing!). I'm going to have to come up with a much better strategy for phone calls and meetings though. I wonder if my wireless connection works in the attic?
Monday, December 22, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Each circle holds a card:
We don't use it any more as we like to display our Christmas cards on the side board with our Advent Calendars and our Pickle Presents.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I haven't been in a very chatty mood lately. Not here, not on the forums or groups and not even in real life. Granted, I'm on week 2 of a bad sinus infection, so I haven't been feeling the greatest, but it's more then just that. I think it's the impending holiday. Don't get me wrong, I'm very excited about Christmas; eager to see Hilary and Liam's reactions for gifts I got them, anticipating what Santa might bring everyone.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
15 years ago I sat across the table from a gorgeous woman and was tongue tied.
15 years ago my friend took me aside and gave me a pep talk (that sounded more like "Buck up and get on with it already!)
15 years ago I realized that I had fallen in love.
15 years ago Hilary and I became a couple.
Happy Anniversary my love!
Friday, December 5, 2008
So if you are like me and have a couple gazillion pictures on your hard drive, I highly recommend that you download this great piece of software and start playing!
Monday, December 1, 2008
No, we don't normally watch the news with Liam around. As my last post pointed out, the violence is getting closer to home (literally!). He doesn't need to know about that, or about gunmen taking control of a city and killing hundreds of people.
Unfortunately he did see the news: men with guns, people screaming and fleeing, confusion.
Liam had sat down to watch a DVD, so I put it in the machine and told him to hit play after all the intro stuff finished, since I was in the middle of something. What I didn't realize was that the TV was set to channel 3, the channel that the cable feeds through, and not to channel 4, the channel that the DVD player feeds through.
So I walked away leaving the TV playing a news recap of the terror in Mumbai.
Mother of the year award for that one!
Liam watched for about a full minute before he called me back to tell me that it wasn't right, there were men with guns on TV. I moved pretty quickly once I focused in and could hear the announcer.
Liam had many, many questions and concerns about what he had seen. We answered them as honestly as we could in an age appropriate way. I don't understand why people do these things, so it makes it pretty hard to explain it to a six year old. He was then very worried about something like that happening here, what our plan would be if bad men came to our house, reminding us to call 911 and to run away. He brought up different scenarios once or twice as the day went on, but overall I think he is satisfied that we are safe, he is safe and that we will do everything in our power to keep him safe.
I just hope that I can continue to keep him safe in this crazy world.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
"Man shot in Halifax 3rd target of gun violence this month"
You can read the full story here.
This happened down the street from my house. Not on my street, but the connecting street. The one we walk along to take Liam to school.
Liam and I were on the bus heading for skating when we heard sirens and saw police cars racing in the opposite direction that we were going. I never have believed that they were heading to my neighbourhood.
I've lived in some bad neighbourhoods in my time, all of them in Toronto. One of the appeals of Halifax when we first moved here was the lack of violence. Most days the headline story of the local paper was about which celebrity yacht was moored downtown, or who had won the local fiddling contest. Violence was rare. Now it seems that it is occurring more and more frequently.
We are not packing up and moving. I still feel safe walking down the street, but I am sure that I will be much more aware of my surroundings, of who else is walking nearby, of how far I am from a friendly household or the school at any given time.
It's a sad world that we live in today, one with far too much violence. Violence that never solves anything any way.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Hilary and I are no different. We don't have lists, but after almost 15 years together we have discovered that our labour division falls pretty neatly into two categories:
It sounds like an odd division, but for us it works. Let me give you some examples:
Hilary is IN: grocery shopping, cooking, feeding the cats... all things that go IN
Andy is OUT: garbage, cat litter, puke cleaner-upper.... all things that go OUT
Hilary also has allergies, so I get most things OUTside - Grass cutting, shoveling, leaf raking, so she gets things INside - laundry, cleaning the bathroom.
Our other division of labour divides into DELICATE and NOT DELICATE. Hilary is DELICATE so she can paint trim, wrap presents, sew - all things that require a fine, delicate touch. I am NOT DELICATE so I get to paint big open spaces, hammer things, move heavy objects - all things that don't require me to be DELICATE. So Hilary makes Liam's costumes as needed and I built the deck.
Tonight though we are having a role reversal. Our friend Mark is over installing our dishwasher. Normally I would be the one helping, holding things, using the drill, measuring. I enjoy these activities even if I'm not very good at them. I wouldn't say that Hilary enjoys them. Yet there she is! Using Mark's drill, feeding electrical wire through the wall, dashing out to the hardware store with him for missing supplies. She seems to be in her element! My days as home repair chick may be numbered (and that's okay!)
I'm very sorry that you never learned to spell in English . No, I'm not commenting on your excessive use of the letter S. Many people use this technique while typing to give the reader a sense of how they want the word to sound..... drawn out in this case, with emphasis on the plural. Your spelling mistake is in the derogatory term that you left in my comments. Faggot has 2 Gs and an O in it. Faget is not actually a word.
English can be a very complicated language to learn. Here is an overview of Hard and Soft sounds for the letter G:
Hard and Soft Sounds for ‘G’
- If the following letter is ‘E’, ‘I’ or ‘Y’, the pronunciation is said to be “soft”.
- If the following letter is anything else - including a space - the pronunciation is termed “hard”.
- A soft ‘G’ is pronounced ‘j’ as in general, giant, gymnastic, large, energy, intelligible, changing
- A hard ‘G’ is pronounced ‘g’ as in golf, pig, running, great, gum, fragrant, grasp, glut, progress, faggot
I'm also very sorry that your Google search for "Bullying Days" brought you to my "Anti-Bullying days" entry. You were obviously looking for a site that was for and not against bullying.
Better luck next time.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
1) My dentist!
I used to be deathly afraid of dentists and them of me. Why were they scared of me? One tried to do a root canal once on a badly infected tooth. It was so infected that the freezing wouldn't take. He proceeded with the root canal anyway. I punched him in the nose. Apparently word of that type of behaviour travels quickly through dentist circles. Luckily for me it hadn't made it's way to Halifax by the time I moved here. Dr. Blanchard accepted my fears and worked with me instead of against me. I know longer require prescription doping just to be able to walk through the front door. He is such an amazing dentist that I refer anyone who is remotely scared or nervous to him. Apparently I have referred so many people to him that he wanted to give a little back to me. I needed to have custom bite plates made last month and was going to square away the bill on my visit yesterday. Turns out that they are "complimentary" for all my referrals. Cool!
2) Being a part of Liam's school.
Liam's school is A.MA.Z.I.N.G. no doubt about it. But what I love this week? That all the families are part of the school. It's little things... like the email today from another mom offering to bake a cake for Liam's teacher next week on her birthday. Her birthday is the same day as the school Fair, so all the parents will be there to help celebrate. .....like the parent support committee working together this weekend to bundle 3000+ Art cards into packs of 10 and everyone bringing stuff and turning it into a potluck. .....like the Admin assistant calling me for help with Excel. It is truly a community.
3) Couch cushions that can be washed.
Not usually something that you LOVE, until your kid has puked on them 4 times before noon.
4) Fast acting Children's Advil.
The puking is in cahoots with a fever, so fast acting anything that makes Liam feel better is getting my love today!
5) Cinnamon Buns, tea and left overs from the freezer!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Some days I just want to change my name, lock myself in the bathroom with a good book and a bottle of wine.
Wait a minute..... I've already changed my name once since becoming a parent. I haven't always been Mama.
One of the added layers of being a same-sex couple is deciding on names. Like all couples we obviously had to decide what to name the baby. But we also had to pick who's last name he would have. Most un-married straight couples give the kids the father's last name. After all, we still live in a very patriarchal society. Our family only has matriarchs though, so what to do? Our solution was simple. Pick out a name for a boy and a name for a girl and give each one the last name that sounded best with it. So if the baby's a boy he would get my last name and a girl would get Hilary's. As you all know Liam is very much a boy, so he got my last name.
The next name decision we had to make was what this kid would call us. Hilary was steadfast in her desire to be called Mummy. Not Mommy. Mummy. It's what she called her Mum, and what her Mum called her Mum and so on. I grew up calling my mother Mom, or Maman since I was being raised to speak French as well. But Mommy and Mummy sounded so close to each other that I thought it would be confusing. So we searched and searched and searched. We looked into other languages and other cultures, but nothing really jumped out at me.
Until Hilary suggested Mimsy.
I tried it on and took it for a spin. Yeah.... I liked that.
And so Liam came home to Mummy and Mimsy.
From the get-go no one else liked it. Friends snickered, older relatives couldn't pronounce it or remember it. I stuck to my guns though! I was Mimsy! For our first Christmas as parents Hilary bought me a set of engraved napkin rings. Mummy, Mimsy, Liam and Guest. The scrapbook contains a page entitled "Mummy, Mimsy and Me". I was determined that this name would stick and people would just get used to it in time.
Then Liam started to talk. I don't know exactly how the transformation started. If you told him "take this to Mimsy" he would go to me. He could point to Mimsy in pictures, he knew the difference between Mummy and Mimsy. I kept a list of his first 100 words, and it shows that on June 27, 2004, just weeks before his 2nd birthday, he started to say "Mimi" for Mimsy. Then in September of that year there is a notation that he started calling me Mama. Today he has no memory of ever calling me Mimsy and thinks it's pretty weird.
I am thinking of swithching back, even just for a day, so that when the Mama, mama, MAMAs start up again I can ignore it without guilt.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
In Flanders Fields By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD
(1872-1918) Canadian Army
IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blowBetween the crosses row on row,That mark our place; and in the skyThe larks, still bravely singing, flyScarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days agoWe lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:To you from failing hands we throwThe torch; be yours to hold it high.If ye break faith with us who dieWe shall not sleep, though poppies growIn Flanders fields.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
So far I've enjoyed the stories I've read. I've cried a few times, laughed out loud and connected with some of the story tellers. Unfortunately, like most anything to do with adoption, there is no where near enough representation of First Mothers and Fathers. The general public wants to hear the warm and fuzzy side of adoption, not the heart break and agony side. Which really does a disservice to all. One third of every adoption story is missing if the first parents side isn't included.
I almost didn't start reading the book. I was stuck on the very first paragraph of the introduction. The presumptuousness of the person who wrote the intro nearly pushed me over the edge! How dare s/he (the introduction isn't credited to someone specific) make a blanket statement about "the universal belief of every adoptive parent."
I've heard this "universal belief" spouted by other adoptive parents. Generally from ones who see adoption as a means to form their family with little or no regard for the other people affected by the adoption. Like their own child. People who forget that this cute little baby they are cuddling will one day grow up and ask the difficult questions.
So what was this opening paragraph you ask?
To believe that the God you worship would purposefully chose to allow a woman to get pregnant JUST so that she can relinquish her child and endure lifetime of pain all in order for some other person to adopt the child is not a something that I can remotely understand. If your God is all powerful and in charge, why not just place the kid with the adoptive family in the first place? Why allow infertility and unplanned pregnancy?
Every time, I declare, "I don't know why he was conceived in another womb or
born in another land, but I know with all my heart that God created him to be
ours." Reading the 3,000+ stories submitted for Chicken Soup for the Adopted
Soul taught me that this is not just my conviction, but the universal belief of every adoptive parent.
And if you do believe this, please don't declare it as the "universal belief" of every adoptive parent. I certainly don't believe it. Most adoptive parents I know don't believe it - even the Christian ones.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
In the late 1950s, my father, who was in construction, bought a piece of farm land and built 4 6-plex apartment buildings on it. He moved into one of the apartments and that is where he brought his new wife in 1965 to start their marriage off. And it was the home they brought me to in 1970. We lived there till I was 6 when we moved to their dream home that they built themselves (without blue prints I might add!).
Memories of my childhood often revolve around these 24 units and all that they entailed. Weekly jobs like cutting the grass and taking out the garbage; shoveling the walks in the winter; emptying the washing machine of change (that one was my favorite job! I think I learned to count and most of my basic math by sorting nickels, dimes and quarters into coin rollers). At one end of the buildings there was a convenience store. At the opposite end a bus stop. The space in between seemed to be just enough for people to finish a chocolate bar or bag of chips and ditch the wrapper on our lawn. One of my first jobs as a kid was to pick up the garbage.
By no means was I a victim of slave labour. I'm sure my jobs and chores did not add up to more then other kids my age. But I resented that I had to clean up after other people. It's one thing for a kid to keep their own room clean, it's a whole new ball game to clean up garbage.
My parents had the worst jobs however. Cleaning out apartments between tenants. From my perspective it was fun and exciting! I got to run around an empty apartment and I had a lawn chair and portable black and white TV that my parents brought along to keep me occupied. We never had cable ourselves, but most of the tenants did. And most cable companies don't bother to shut off the feed until they know for sure that the next tenant doesn't want cable. So I had access to the magical world of television on the first of every month.
My mother can tell stories of cleaning horror that would curl your toe hairs! One was so bad that I was sent to spend the weekend at my Godmother's as my Mom wouldn't even let me walk in the door. The tenants had been evicted for non-payment and they were not happy about it. They dead bolted the door and left through a window. Once my Dad was able to get in they were met with a horrible site! The people had poured a liter of milk on the shelves of the fridge, shut the door and unplugged it leaving a sour festering mess; they had taken the baby's poopy diapers and smeared the contents into every electrical outlet they could find; they overflowed the toilet and left a mountain of garbage.
The cleaning wasn't the only problem area. Drunk tenants banging on the door at all hours because they lost their keys, dealing with angry people over music played too loud, people breaking things, people refusing to pay their rent. My mother took one man to court over past due rent and garnished his wages. She walked to his job site every Friday for 4 years to collect $20 a week.
Domestic disputes were bad as well. The worst one involved an angry husband shooting his wife on the front lawn. She was only grazed by the bullet and managed to make it into the building where another tenant let her into his apartment and called the police.
Eventually my parents sold off the buildings and got out of the landlord business. And I swore that I would never again have anything to do with apartments beyond being a tenant myself.
As life would have it, it didn't quite work out that way.
3 years ago we had the opportunity to buy a house on our street. It was bigger, had a better yard, had many upgrades and was generally in better shape. We jumped at the chance. The only thing was that it had a basement apartment in it. And since it was a bigger house it came with a bigger mortgage and we would need the rent from the apartment in order to manage financially. I wasn't too worried. It was only 1 apartment after all, not 24. And we would be living right upstairs so we could keep a close eye on things.
So that September we bought the house, packed up our stuff and put ads out to find a potential renter. We live in a city with 3 major universities and several other post-secondary schools. There are lots of people looking for rentals in September. Unfortunately most of them were of a questionable character! The apartment is a one bedroom with a den. Perfect for a single person, maybe a couple. The previous tenant had been a single Mom and her 4 year old, so that size combo could work too. We had families with 6 people apply and who were indignant that we wouldn't even consider them. Smokers who felt that they should be able to smoke in the house. People with no visible means of income and ones that I would have been scared to have that close to my family.
We eventually lucked out when Dan applied. A nice young single man in his late 20's. Recently graduated from the school of Dentistry and working for a practice downtown. He was looking for his first post-university apartment, somewhere to hang his hat while he worked to pay off his student loans.
Dan has been a model tenant and has stayed with us for 3 years so far. True, on his 30th birthday he got drunk, took a cab home, lost his keys and thought that it would be a good idea to break a window in order to get in. The neighbours did catch one of his buddies peeing on the front lawn one Saturday night. And there was the time his buddy left a dog in the apartment while they went out and the dog howled non-stop for HOURS until we finally got hold of Dan on his cell phone and told him to come deal with it. All in all not too bad.
We've only had to replace the dryer and one light fixture, so our expenses so far have been minimal (Dan paid for the new window and to have the locks changed). Until this past week. Dan mentioned that the toilet had been clogging, but that he was able to plunge it successfully. A day or two later her mentioned that when he plunged it the last time that some dirty water backed up into his tub. So we called a plumber to come in and snake the line to the sewer before it got to bad. We were a day too late! Things got bad the night before the plumber was due to arrive. Dan could no longer flush and there was six inches of sewer water and all that that entails in his tub. $300 later the plumber had cleared the clog by having to take our toilet completely off and snaking it from there. So when I got home from work I had 2 poopy bathrooms to clean. While fishing out the chunky bits from Dan's tub I was reminded of my childhood plan to NEVER be a landlord!!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Somewhere along the line Table Presents went from a birthday dinner tradition to a tradition for any occasion that involves a big family meal. In our household that includes Birthdays, Christmas Eve, Christmas Dinner, Easter, Thanskgiving and Anniversaries. We are all about giving (and getting!) presents as often as possible.
The trick with table presents is that they aren't "real" presents. They are usually fun little things, like the Thumb Wrestling Ring.
The banana guard
For me, they are a lot of fun to shop for and I am always keeping an eye out for that perfect gift. You really have to know the recipient well to pull off a great table present present. Lame fall backs from the last minute shoppers include candy and booze. Both great presents, but not in the right spirit for a table present. Unless it's a specialty item like Peeps at Easter (my FAVORITE Easter treat that my Grandpa used to buy me that we could not get in Canada for many years)
It's a tradition that Hilary and I have celebrated for nearly 15 years. It is one that Liam now enjoys and one that we have shared with my family and all of our friends that we share big family dinners with.
Do you have any neat traditions that you want to share?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Way to go Thanksgivingmom! You guessed it, it's a Pro-Thumb Wrestling Arena! No house should be without one. I got mine as a table present for my mom's birthday.
What's a table present you ask? And why did I get a present on my mom's birthday? Stay tuned and I will explain.
Thanks to everyone who played this round of What Am I? I think I need to make a nifty button for my players (and an extra swanky one for the winners) like Lori has!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Here is what we have so far:
- Pen cover
- ponytail bands with a cap-like thingamajig
- hair roller
- Bottom of a travel toothbrush holder
- weird scrapbooking tool
- Chutes and ladders
We haven't made it to the 4th picture in a while. Keep the guesses coming!
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Here is what we have so far:
- Pen cover
- ponytail bands with a cap-like thingamajig
- hair roller
- Bottom of a travel toothbrush holder
As you can see it's not any of those things!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
- His first name is Ken
- He was married and had 4 children, one of whom is named Carole
- He died on March 31, 2001
It's not a huge city by any means, so I figured that this was enough info to find an obituary. I had no clue what I would do with it if I did find it! (You can read my thoughts on this from before I went here. ) Alas, after scouring the days before and after March 31, I found nothing. No men of the right age, with a name or circumstance that were even close.
I find myself thinking more and more about my father's family, especially my half-siblings. I grew up as an only child, so the idea that I have 5 siblings brings so many mixed emotions. They are all older then I am; some would be in their 60's now. Do they know about me? Did they suspect that their father was having an affair? How will they react when they do find out? Will the hate me because I represent their father's transgressions, or will they welcome me into the fold?
As with most adoptees who wonder and search, I also wonder on the medical side of things. Seeing so many friends getting breast cancer diagnoses lately makes me even more nervous about my lack of medical history. What do these people know that I don't? Do they know that we are all prone to diabetes, cancer, high blood pressure so they take preventative measures to keep themselves safer? I've had to live my life on the assumption that I *might* be prone to everything and anything.
Since I didn't find anything at the library, I can't move forward on this right now. Sure, I could hire a private investigator, dig through the Internet or enlist the help of a search angel. But something is holding me back from doing any of that. The fear of the unknown and the risk of rejection are two big motivating factors for inactivity.
and yet................ I really want to meet them.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
As I was reading Heather's blog entry about her daughter commenting on her butt (check it out here) I giggled again at Liam's most recent comment.
We were all getting ready to go out for dinner on Saturday, Liam looked at me in my long brown skirt and long beige shirt and said:
"You look nice Mama, but Mummy is prettier."
My MIL bought me these a couple of years ago so that I could get in touch with my inner Diva while cleaning the house. Unfortunately the boa part sheds, so I don't actually use them.
I'm going to have to hunt for more obscure items for the next time. Thanks for playing!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
And here is what I found:
I took the item outside on the railing of the deck to make the best use of the natural light (and it's always more sneaky to not photograph the item in it's natural environment!)
So guess away! Guess often! There will be 4 pictures, one per day, before the final reveal. Unless someone guesses it sooner!
And if you enjoy playing this, be sure to check out Lori's Childhood Trivia.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
We decided to try something new and unusual, something that neither Hilary nor I had ever done and definitely something my Mom had never done! We went out for Teppanyaki:
Teppanyaki dining is a Japanese tradition where specially trained chefs prepare the meal right at your table on a large grill. In Japanese, teppan means an iron plate or steel sheet and yaki means stir-frying.
We had a fabulous time! The chef is not only skilled with a knife he is also an entertainer. He built our table a volcano out of rings of raw onion, filled it with oil and lit it on fire.
The grand finally was the meat being cooked under a very large flame. We were sitting about 1 foot back from this! You can just see the edge of Mom's plate in the corner of the picture.
We all had a great time and headed out for a leisurely coffee at a local pub and made the most of having a babysitter at home dealing with bedtime!
We've packed up all of the Thomas the Tank Engine toys. Thomas has been a part of our life since Liam was 2 years old. We have trains and tracks and buildings and books and DVDs and clothes and, and and......
Now at the very old age of 6, Liam has outgrown Thomas. His interests now run to things like Bakugan's and Bionicles and Hot Wheels and Star Wars.
Hilary and I will adapt. We are slowly learning the languages that go with these new fantasy worlds. And of course we are acquiring the toys, the books, the clothes and the DVDs for this next phase of childhood.
The Thomas stuff will remain packed up in boxes (5 in total!) in the attic. Liam may want to revisit them one day or we will keep them to pass down to the next generation of train buffs.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I don't believe that I have a shoe obsession. I have 1 pair of running shoes, 1 pair of flats for the office, 1 pair of outdoor Crocs, 1 pair of indoor Crocs (worn as slippers), 1 pair of actual slippers, 1 pair of winter boots, 2 pairs of sandals. This is only 8 pairs of shoes, hardly an obsession.
But I digress.
My 1 pair of running shoes (cheap $19.99 ones from a big box store) had a crack in them and I was getting wet feet any time I walked in even the slightest of misty conditions. And since I live in Halifax, that is pretty much our everyday weather. So it was decided that I should buy a new pair. Off I went to another big box store, because overall I'm pretty cheap, and will not pay much more then $20 for any pair of shoes. I might concede to $40 for winter boots, but I'm not going over that. Even my Crocs are not brand name Crocs and only cost $9.
At my current age I have had many opportunities over the years to purchase new shoes. And ever since I stopped growing at the age of 12 I've worn a size 8. On the odd occasion an 8.5. That is until last year. Last fall I bought my first pair of size 9 running shoe. I figured that the sizing was wrong, or that particular brand ran small. Then last winter the boots I got were a size 9 too. And this years sandals? You guessed it a 9. I was now starting to think that it was maybe my feet that had changed and not that the entire shoe industry had secretly changed their sizing methods. Maybe my foot was suffering from the same middle age spread that the rest of me has been experiencing. And really? a 9 is not that far from an 8, so no big deal.
Well! Want to guess at what size my brand spanking new running shoes are?
So why did I buy these huge clunkers?
They were on sale of course! only $17.99 - regularly $49.99. Who could pass them up? And they really are quite comfortable too.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Liam took this picture of Hilary and I with his camera. He doesn't use it often, but at unexpected times will pick it up and say "I better take a picture of this so that I can always remember it."
He is getting much better at centering the shot and being aware of the lighting around him. Hilary is not thrilled that there are now 2 of us in the house randomly snapping pictures of her!