This is why I'm Tired

I often come to work on Mondays and say my weekend was exhausting. I love my kids. They make me laugh and make me smile. But they exhaust me.
So the other day we let Matt make a video. No exaggeration ... this is Matt - most of the time.
Mike and I cracked up when we started watching it because it's so him. Also note how calm our cat is through the whole thing.

Live Better Than You Dare

Cover via Amazon

I've been talking a lot about going to New York.
I've been talking a lot about Julie Powell.
And, I was tossing back and forth the idea of travelling to New York to go to an event she's speaking at. I know. A little crazy. But, also pretty cool.
And I've been reading the Happiness Project which is pretty full of some affirmations and quotes. I'll admit that I'm not exactly a daily affirmation person - but I do love a good quote. And one of her quotes is "Live as Well as You Dare." I thought that was pretty great - until my good friend said it should be changed to live BETTER than you dare.
And it's true. It's one of those quotes I play over and over in my head. I mean, do I dare? Do I do things I'm afraid of? Do I push things just a little more than I'm confortable with? Well, yes and no. Yes, for sure a lot. (just ask the people I work with)
So, with this whole New York thing - I'm going for it.
I was thinking about what inspired me in Cleaving. Like, I pretty much fell in love with the whole book - what Julie Powell said about herself (life lessons there). But it was also about butchery. I'll never forget the conversation I had with someone when I was halfway through the book. This person is a friend, but doesn't know me *that* well, and I was knee deep in the book, and had decided that perhaps I should move to New York and learn to be a butcher. It wasn't a serious thought. It was more of a completely engrossed in a book kind of thought.
He thought about it and suggested that perhaps I take some cooking classes, or even just try buying meat from a butcher (other than the grocery store).
And I was mulling this idea around when I decided that OMG! I could probably find the butcher shop from the book. (it's called Fleisher's) And go there! And, then I thought that I can't exactly buy meat there but they have soup and stuff. So, if nothing else - I can fly to New York, take a 2 hour bus ride to the store, eat a bowl of soup - and EXPERIENCE.
And, perhaps buy a shirt!
Live better than you dare.
Maybe to some people that's insane. To me - that's living!
Also, before I go, my friend helpfully sent me a title of a book to read (about meat) and some butchers in Toronto that have a similar philosophy. Awesome.
I'm SO excited.

Sleep and Happiness ...

Chloe is almost 2. We're about 6 weeks away from her second birthday, and the child needs to sleep.
I don't know what went wrong with her sleep routine. As an infant she slept well, but as she got older it got progressively worse till we hit that point that every night Mike puts her to sleep by rocking her and then lays her on the couch until he brings her to our bed where she sleeps for the night.
I know that sounds terrible.
The truth is, when you have an older child who is really exhausting, you take sleep however you can, even if that means horrible habits.
But, the other day I was left to put Chloe to sleep, and given the fact that I'm a foot shorter than Mike, and have significantly less arm muscle, it was really hard to get her into the necessary sleep strong hold. And I realized that something had to change.
So for the past few days I've been doing sleep training.
Matt goes to bed pretty quickly and has a great knack for ignoring his sister, so while he slept I somewhat patiently walked Chloe back to her bed over and over and over. And listened to her scream - over and over and over.
And, for the last 2 nights she has slept in her own bed.
This is a miracle, I tell you. A miracle. Tonight we had only an hour of the walking back to bed/crying routine.
What's the magic formula? Well, nothing. But I'll tell you what's made it easier - reading "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. It's a fascinating book, and it breaks down her resolutions for happiness into 12 months. I'm kind of reading a month per night. And, it's funny how when I read it, and I'm reading about things that were hard for her, it kind of makes the suckiness of sleep training more bearable.
Also, it's a good book.
And, I've finished reading the month of February and she's actually mentioned Julie/Julia. So there's that. And she says stuff like:
One of the best ways to make yourself happy is to make other people happy; One of the best ways to make other people happy is to be happy yourself.
 And let me tell you, when you're feeling a little guilty about essentially just listening to your kid cry, stuff like that is amazing.
So sleep plus happy is making me happy right now.
And I'm hoping that by Chloe's 2nd birthday we'll have a sleeping toddler. Next step - toilet training.

Debating ...

Image via Wikipedia

Do you ever have those moments where you debate something? You know, wonder if you're compltely insane or have a really good idea?
Here's the thing.
I don't usually debate those things.
Someone once said about me "you always take the leap, and debate the merits of it after."
That's kind of true. In fact very true. I try not to be that way, but at the end of the day, it's what makes life fun, and it's what makes me me. And sometimes you just need to embrace courage.
And here's the thing.
I'm debating going to New York. For one night. On my own.
I *REALLY* want to go hear someone speak. 
I've been talking enough about Julie Powell. I've made all my friends read the book. I've been inspired by what she does. And, for me it's a matter of a relatively cheap flight and just going for it.
I should be able to get the time off work.
I've travelled to NY on my own several times, and can navigate my way around without any problem. I'm not particularly worried about any aspect of this.
In fact, I'm not even sure what I'm debating. I mean, yes, there's the one small issue of finding somewhere to stay, but it's one night... it's manageable.
And worth it.
right?
Or is it crazy?
Okay, and side note. My friend told me about a dinner party she went to where everyone there brought something from MtAoFC. I thought that was pretty much the COOLEST party idea ever. Well, next to my awesome 30th birthday fondue party.  But, you know, I have a birthday every year - and what's not to love about a pot luck - in the fancy french way!

Finding Yourself

When I was 19 I went to France. With my best friend.
She was working there as an au pair in the South of France (I think) - I traveled to meet her. After recovering from jet lag, and having a few days with the family she was with, we traveled together to Paris.
Picture it if you will. Two almost-19 year old girls. Together. Alone. In the City of Love.
We had life figured out.
Our trip was an adventure. We had a guide book that I was intent on following, and a couple of days in we decided to take a break from my plan and discover Paris. We found markets and we walked over bridges. We went to underground restaurants and sipped wine. We grocery shopped and ate red meat when people were stressed about mad cow. We made friends with people in the hostel and let some lovely Irish boys cook us dinner. We decided to forego taking the elevator up the Eiffel Tower and walked. We had sketches made of us that looked NOTHING like us and laughed our asses off. We spoke French (Susie did a much better job than I did) and we bought a whole tonne of Eiffel Tower crap at ridiculous prices.
When we were on the plane headed to Paris there were other young people - probably a little older than us. Different groups of people. And they all kept saying that they were going to Paris to find themselves. It became a joke between Susie and I. Whenever we left somewhere, like the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre, one of us would inevitably say "wow. I just found myself."
I guess it sounds like we were mocking the people who had traveled there for that purpose. But more than that it was the sense of security that we knew who we were - that there was nothing to find - and as we later put it, nothing we had really lost.
Fast forward about 12 years and it's a bit of a different story.
I've been writing a lot about my love of the author Julie Powell (of Julie and Julia and Cleaving). It's interesting to read her books. In case you haven't read Julie and Julia, Julie Powell decides to cook her way through Julia Child's book "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in one year. And she blogs her experience.
Though I'm not sure she specifically says the purpose of her year of cooking dangerously is to find herself, it's the same idea. Self discovery, overcoming a challenge, etc etc.
And, as I'm reading Julie and Julia I keep thinking about how in a way I'm in the same place.
I have moments when I gasp because something she says I so totally get. TOTALLY.
Which makes me think about that time in France.
Seriously. What happened? Granted when I went there it was just before highschool graduation. We pretty much knew where our lives were headed the next year (university) and I had it all figured out. I knew I would get married at 27 (happened a little earlier) and have a perfect career (I'm happy, but I had some miserable jobs in there) and have kids at 30 (ha. I had a 4 year old and newborn at 30). It never occurred to me that everything I was dreaming may not happen according to plan. And I really thought I had it figured out.
And now I'm 31.
I'm not where Julie was at when she turned 30. Our lives are remarkably different. And the same. But that feeling through the book - the feeling of wondering whether you're living life completely, getting the most out of it, making a difference, following your dreams ... I get that.
I'm pretty sure I don't want to be where I was at 19.
I know that every day is not magical (despite what Disney tells us). I know that even the greatest things we wish for and get (marriage, family, etc) are not always as simple and perfect as we may have dreamed. And I think that's okay.
At the end of Julie's project she found out that Julia Child wasn't her biggest fan. And, I guess that's kind of life.
But it also makes me think about my own kids. How do I instill in them that feeling that they can one day own the world, that at almost-19 they can seize the moment, take whirlwind trips and know that there's nothing they need to find, and nothing they've really lost? Am I putting them in the right place?
Thinking back though, in a way I think we did find ourselves. Well, maybe I can't speak for Susie (trust me - the woman has no problem speaking her own mind!), but I can speak for myself. Maybe I didn't feel the need to find myself in the Eiffel Tower or under the Arch de Triomphe, but looking back I need to remember what that 19 year old knew. That life is an adventure. That as much as it's great to follow a map and a plan life is so much more fun when you screw up, throw out the plan and have an adventure.
Carpe Diem, people. Carpe Diem.
Oh, and since I've been asked ... yes, I love love love Julie. But, no. I'm not going to start cooking. That was her thing. I'm proud of myself when I cook a stir fry, or make roast beef. Or bake some cookies. I don't honestly get all these copycat people. That's her adventure. I will find my own. (My husband and children thank me, I'm sure!)

M-I-C-K-E-Y !!!

We're back from a week in Disney.
What a week it was. We did the trip in true Disney fashion. We stayed at  Disney resort, we ate all Disney meals, we soaked in everything and we had a blast. And we are exhausted!
Let me tell ya. There's a big difference between going to Disney with a one year (like our last trip) and an almost 2 year old.  It was fun, but so so tiring.
I'd do a full review of it, but with laundry going and an impending return to work tomorrow I need to keep this short.
Some of the highlights ... 

Mike celebrated his birthday in Disney. (yes, that's totally my dream birthday, but anyway ...)I created the lovely hat and bought him the shirt. And we had cake at dinner. And, the waiter who brought the cake sang the awesomest rendition of Zippity-Doo-Dah. It was incredible.

We had a blast with these 2 munchkins. Here's a confession, as parents who work outside of the home, Mike and I are not used to being around our kids 24/7. So, not only was this a chance to be in Disney, this also a great chance to spend time with our kids (and appreciate our nanny!). I saw so much in my kids this week, like the fact that Matt is so incredibly social. He can start up a conversation with pretty much anyone, and is fascinated to hear what they have to say. We learned so much about other families and cast members thanks to Mr. Social.

And, Chloe ... wow! The child is talking so much now. She must have learned 100 new words in Disney. And she's smart. She knows "Lella" (Cinderella) lives in the "Castle". And she's funny. One time I said to her "whose house is that?" when I pointed to the castle. She looked at me, laughed and said "Chloe's".  Ha.

Speaking of Miss Chloe ...

I like to think she is a princess. Isn't this dress beautiful? My sister made it just for Chloe to have breakfast with the princesses.
As it turned out, Chloe, who LOVES Minnie Mouse in particular, and pretty much all the big furry characters, is terrified of the princesses. I don't know why. This is with the exception of Snow White.
Whenever Chloe sees a picture of Snow White she says "Mommy" (do you see the similarity? I don't). Anyway, she was downright terrified of Jasmine, and would have nothing to do with Sleeping Beauty. It may have had something to do with the fact that she woke up sick on the day of our Princess breakfast. Being the great mother I am, I truly thought that she was fine, and brought my sick baby on the boat to Magic Kingdom where she threw-up twice before breakfast, once in the castle and once outside before Mike came in and brought her to the hotel to get some extra sleep.
(In fairness, Chloe is a pukey kind of kid, and was running around before we left. She seemed fine).

See - prefers Minnie!

And then there was Mr. Matt.

I love this picture of Matt because this is so him!
Matt is growing up. Here's the thing with Matt. As an almost 6 year old he no longer believes in the characters. He knows they are costumes. But, he's still willing to have fun.
Matt's mind is incredible to me. I'm the kind of person who hates to have surprises spoiled. I realize Disney is out to make money, but I'd much rather believe in the "magic" of it. I don't want to read the books about how everything works. I'm quite happy to accept that pixie dust is how the monorail works, and believe that Tinkerbelle leaves little surprises for people. Matt, on the other hand, is fascinated by how things work. He wants to know how the animatronics work. He looks for the strings on puppets and needs to understand the workings behind everything.

He loved Epcot. There's magic there, but there's also a whole lot of Science. He absolutely wanted to figure out how everything works, and that's what epcot is for. There's also a secret agent thing - the Kim Possible Kimmunicator - where you get this cell phone that gives you clues and you basically go on a mission in a country in Epcot. This was a highlight for Matt (and really fun for us).
You know, there were times where I'd sit on the bus with him or the monorail and he'd talk and I'd be completely fascinated with his thoughts.

He is obsessed with Space Mountain. We were a little worried since he hates the dark,but he loves space. The child went on this ride about 10 times. One the last day we told him that he could choose one final ride. He chose Space Mountain. There was a 20-minute wait (welcome to Disney in January - no waits!). Awesome. We got near the front of the line and then they turned the lights on. Long story short there was a major technical problem and the ride had to close. I thought Matt would completely lose it but he didn't (I would have). They handed out special fast passes good for any ride, so we booted it over to Thunder Mountain (and by booted I mean we RAN across the park in record time to get on one more ride before we left).

As for me... I had a great time.
I found this trip more stressful and exhausting. I had a chest infection before we left, and on the trip back I was sick. I could have stayed another week, and at point debated it. But, you know, there's this thing called work ...
But, we have already started making plans. And part of me thinks that maybe when I retire I'll go work at Disney. I think I'd make an excellent Fairy Godmother in my retirement.

Mommy - Matt Date

Sometimes I get a bit caught up in the everyday. We probably all do, but last night I figured it was high time to take Matt and a little mother-son date.
We go out a lot. We shop, we grab coffee, we chat. But, it's always in the midst of something. I let him play trains while I'm looking for a book at Chapters. Or, we run into Starbucks on our way to a playdate. Or I observe him playing with other kids while I am chatting with friends. Or we talk while we're baking, or cleaning or driving.
We have a good relationship.
But, we rarely take time to stop. And just be. And go somewhere with no purpose other than to be together with no true agenda.
The truth is, sometimes it's hard to do this. About a year ago Matt was diagnosed with ADHD and ODD, and the hardest time of day for him is the evening. I understand it. And I accept it, but sometimes I don't exactly work with it. It's easier to let him burn off energy before bed and not contain it, and avoid fights, etc etc.
So, maybe it was a little bit crazy that I decided we do coffee (for me) at about 6:30 last night.
But it was wonderful. We sat for about half an hour and we chatted. Well, he chatted and I listened, and occasionally asked questions, but not many. Mostly I just heard about what was going on in his head. He told me about literacy week at school and recounted the story his teacher had read to them. He told me about his friends at school, and the new friend he made at recess (from the other kindergarten class). And, we talked about grade 1. He's a little nervous about it, but also a little excited.
It was a great conversation.
And it reminded me again why I know my kid is awesome, and why I know that despite some of my fears, that I know he'll grow up to be an amazing person. I need to do this more. I need to stop, and listen, and be present, with no other agenda.
After our coffee, since we were in Chapters, I let him play trains.
What amazes me about my kid is how he forms friendships with other kids. I know lots of children do this. But, despite that I'm still constantly amazed by how easy it is for him. After about 10 minutes he was off in his own little world with another boy his age. They managed to find a ton of common ground and were chatting about lego, books, trains and other boy stuff. They made their way over to the section where they sell all the Thomas stuff and the two of them were standing by the trains, both helping each other sound out all the names of the engines. It wasn't a competition. It was just one kid showing the other kid how to do something. And I sat back watching, fully impressed by how easy it all is, and how sometimes instead of looking at the time, and worrying about stuff, I need to step back and let things unfold.
Of course, the highlight of the night was pumping gas. Are kids allowed to help? I'm hoping so, because Matt wanted to help me every step of the way. I didn't see a problem with this, and in fact I figure it won't be long till I can stay in the warm car and let him pump gas for me (I kid, kind of ...)
And then there was our out of tune rendition of True Colours, over and over on our short drive.
He's almost 6. At the beginning of April my child will be 6!
Not a moment of his childhood has been easy. He was my surprise baby when I was too young to be having kids. He has challenged me every waking moment of his life. And he continues to. He fights me on a lot of stuff. He is strong willed and exuberant and when I tell him no he lets me know that he does NOT like to hear it.
And, I can't imagine loving him more than I do.
Last night when we got home (a little past his bedtime) I was reading him a story and tucking him into bed. Before I left I thanked him for going for coffee, and he said to me "You're welcome. You're lucky you have me as your little boy."
True. So true. And I'm glad he knows it as well as I do.

Cheers to You, Anonymous!

So I got this lovely little comment on my blog yesterday.

"I agree with Steve and SciFi Dad ... you shold have tried the beef thing. That way your kids and husband could have been more prominent in "The story of your life" ... it's good thing your husband has a great sense of humor. He would have to, in order to put up with your ego ... "rather than take the blame" ... talk about being too self-absorbed. where were your kids while you were blogging about alcohol?"

I've had my share of mean comments, and truthfully this didn't really bother me. (some have) It did, however, interest me. Where do these people come from?

It's clear anonymous doesn't read my blog. If he/she did, they would know that really nights of drinking with friends are quite finely balanced by nights of putting my kids to bed, watching tv with them, snuggling, doing homework, making lunches, and all of the other stuff that comes with being a parent.  And as I've said before, I like a balance. I can't speak for everyone, since we are all different, but I can certainly say that in my life, and in the life of my husband, having a life outside of the daily grind of getting up, getting the kids up, working full time, coming home, getting the kids to bed and then eventually rolling into bed ourselves in NOT a bad thing.

It is, in fact, a good thing. Having a sense of humour about all of this? Not just good. But necessary. I'm the first person to tell Mike to call up his friends, go for a drink, laugh about life, and if he needs to, vent about the joys of having to "put up with my ego." If he sends me a funny text when he's out I laugh. Or I'm asleep.

Let's be honest here. Was I really blaming Julie Powell for the fact that I was drinking? No. Does an author truly have the power to make me drink a handful of gimlets? Well, okay. She did inspire me to try a different drink. Whatever. It is, in fact, pretty yummy. But, I wasn't seriously blaming her for *making* me have a drink. That's silly. Though, many people would claim that she inspires them to try French cooking, rediscover a passion, break out of a rut or maybe even blog. So. Cheers to her for doing that. And, if I had a drink because of her - I'll raise my glass. I had a great time.

And, when I came home to my kids and my husband I was probably a better person for it.

In my mind, it's more dangerous to be miserable, feel home bound and forbidden to go out that sucks the life out a marriage. I married young, and I have never, for a second, felt that I wasn't allowed to have my own friends, my own conversations or my own interests. For some couples that works. And more power to them. But for me it doesn't. I love my husband and my kids. I cannot wait to spend the week in Florida with them, just the four of us, being a family. And that joy comes from the fact that at the end of the day, if I want to meet a friend for coffee, enjoy a few drinks, or catch a movie I have the liberty to do so. And for the record, so does Mike. What matters to me is that I know my kids are taken care of, that I still spend time with them and that we are all enjoying our lives.

In answer to your question, anonymous. Where were my kids? Obviously, they were with my husband. Well taken care of. If the shoe was on the other foot, and if he was out drinking with his friends and sending me some funny texts, would I be pissed off? Of course not. I'd be at home, snuggled with my kids (or, more likely, trying to keep up with them while they chase each other around the house - or reading them stories or getting in some quality baking time) knowing that in a few hours Mike would be home, and we'd wake up and start our regular life all over again.

Yes, this blog is the story of my life. And it shows the good and the bad. We've been through a lot, my family and I. And even though I know there will be many mistakes as I grow up along with my kids and my husband, what I share here isn't just the good stuff. It's not just the funny endearing stories, or my comments on how I am the world's best mom. I've never claimed that nor will I. For now I'm content being who I am. Self absorbed and egotistical as the case may be.

This weekend wasn't exactly as planned.
We're less than a week away from a trip to Disney and I'm sick. Well, sick and recovering, but still ...
My plan to wake up early on Saturday and pack didn't quite work out. I slept in until 11 (unheard of in my life. I literally cannot remember a time since I have had kids where I've slept in that late) and was woken up by Mike, who told me that my parents had Chloe, my sister had Matt and we were going out for breakfast. Nice.
So, we ate, we bought a few things for the trip, we got Chloe, and I went back to sleep.
Again. Unheard of. And, though we debated the idea of packing and watching a movie, the packing got pushed as  I nursed neocitron and Mike and I watched a movie (are you shocked that it was Julie and Julia? Honestly, Mike hadn't seen it and he loved it)

Today we were a little bit more on track.
Today was a family day, and it was needed. Life has been busy lately, and I feel like between Christmas and work and just life in general we've all been going in slightly different directions. Today we had nothing planned. NOTHING. It was bliss. Mike slept in and I hung out with the kids. Matt and I played a game of Frustration, and I realized that he's finally at the age where we can actually play games and it's fun.
At one point in the game Matt knocked my piece off of the board and when I was disappointed he said "well, that's just the way the ball bounces, mom." Huh? Where do these things come from?

And then, in the weirdness of all weirdness, I saw a smackdown at the gas station. Seriously. Two men were fighting over the car wash, and when I left the scene one guy was blocking the other guy at the exit of the car wash. This doesn't happen in suburbia. Really. 

And at the end of the day we're mostly packed. Of course, nothing is perfect. I attempted to cut Chloe's bangs and that didn't turn out so well, so I think a haircut is in the books for this week, but all in all we're back to our usual insanity, illness and sleepyness aside.

I know I know ...

This is a mommy blog after all, and I'm talking about alcohol. Gasp! And authors who have lives and books and blogs that would make some people blush.
Sorry. I have had a few e-mails asking if I'm okay (yes). And thanks for asking.
But, lately I've really felt like saying, you know, sometimes motherhood isn't only about educational toys, changing diapers and impending toilet training.
It's also about the fact that Mommy bloggers are people, and don't only, you know, do mommy things. And, no, I'm not discussing the WAHM/SAHM debate. Because I think that no matter what choice you make about working in the home or outside of it has little to do with whether or not you have a life outside of the home.
And honestly, I've been thinking a lot about that. About all the definitions. About what makes us who we are, as people, as parents, as not-parents, as spouses, etc etc.
And there's a lot on my mind.
We won't even discuss that in addition to the stress I put on myself, there's all the additional stress of an impending Disney trip (next week!) where I am not sure if I'm packing flip flops or ear muffs.
And, that's where all this Julie Powell stuff comes in.
Remember Rebecca Eckler? Don't get me wrong. I LOVE Rebecca still. LOVE her. That won't change. But, do you want to know when I discovered her writing? It was when I was dealing with Post Partum Depression, and a million issues about going back to work and whether that made me a bad mom (resounding no to that one). And then I read her book, and despite any negativity that the critics had she made me realize something - if you are comfortable with your own choices, screw everyone else. Seriously.
And, in a much grander way, that may even make Rebecca blush, JP says the same thing. Be yourself. Accept life. Live it and accept. And it works out in the end, even if it gets really really messy in the middle.

You know that  line that Cyndi Lauper sings in True Colours:

It's hard to be courageous.
oh I realize
it's hard to take courage
in a world full of people
you can lose sight of it all
and the darkness inside you
can make you feel so small

That's what this is all about. And sometimes you just go through life figuring it out day-by-day.
So, take courage. Be brave. Embrace the messy parts and be grateful for the easy parts. Read Julie. Follow my quest to meet her (you know it will be, if nothing else, interesting.) And Live.

That is all.

As a Julie Powell fan - do I attempt Boeuf Bouginon or the Gimlet?

So I posted yesterday my love for Julie Powell. Brace yourselves because I have a feeling you will hear a lot about her in the next little while. Classic me. I can't let stuff go.
And, I've been reading her Julie/Julia Project blog.
And maybe also obsessively reading her other blog - What Could Happen.
And I've noticed something alarming in the comments. Every. Single. Julie Powell fan seems to be inspired by her to cook Boeuf Bouginon.  It's a pretty big part of the movie (and book).It looks delicious. But still.
I debated that idea for like a minute. Sent a quick e-mail to my husband with the idea to try this recipe. And then remembered one small thing. I'm not really all that interested in cooking. I'm so much more of the Rachael Ray school of cooking (30 minute meals with no measuring) than I am the Julia Child School of Cooking. Honestly.
So I did the next best thing.
I decided to try the drink that Julie always talks about - the gimlet.
So, in the interest of full disclosure here, every time that she mentioned a gimlet I thought it was a little like saying a  mickey, you know - not a specific drink per say but a size of drink or a fancy name. Like I'd say "I'm going for cocktails".So I assumed saying "I had a gimlet" was akin to "I had a drink." Nope. Wrong.
I looked it up.
A gimlet is actually a very specific drink. Much like saying I'm drinking a martini.
And, at this point I have to say that technically, yes, this is still a mommy blog. And, no, I don't really drink around my kids except to have a glass of wine or champagne or something.
Anyhow.
As it turns out, I may go for drinks a little too often becuase there is a pub, appropriately named "The Pub" where when I walk in they actually know exactly what I'm going to order for a drink, and bring it over to me fairly quickly. Which is a good thing. (Vodka gingerale since you asked). So last night when I bumped into a friend and we decided to go for a quick drink (which was not actually quick, and was not just one friend ... but whatever), I mentioned that I'm trying something new - the gimlet. Which I was pronouncing "Jimlet" which is incorrect.
So, I asked the bartender, a lovely old man who has seen pretty much everything, and he told me how to say it, and then reluctantly made it for me while explaining it's an old-fashioned drink. And, was that gimlet ever pretty. It was also yummy. Though it could have been improved upon, I think, with real lime juice. Minor detail.
It was pretty good though. A little too good. And I probably should have found out the alcohol content of the beverage before ordering a second (and maybe a third) while having a long-drawn out conversation with friends about life. And Julie. And gimlets. Meanwhile I was texting my husband explaining why I was missing trains due to gimlets. And rather than taking any of the blame I placed sole responsiblity on the author of a book and blog who talks a little too much about a certain drink.
And, this is where I mention that my husband has a good sense of humour because he found the whole thing somewhat hilarious - and may have been thinking that I better drink lots of gimlets now becase I most certainly cannot go on my NY road trip and sit in bars drinking gimlets alone while on my author-finding quest.

And here's the recipe

Gimlet
Impress you friends with this Martini alternative
2 oz. Gin
1/2 oz. Lime Juice
Combine in a shaker with ice.
Shake vigorously and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Serve with a lime squeeze.

A Pilgrimage of Sorts

Like many people I saw the movie Julie and Julia.
For anyone who blogs, the story is pretty amazing. A woman, Julie Powell, decides to embark on a plan to cook her way through on of Julia Childs' cookbooks in a year, and blogs her experience. Her blog documents both her cooking and her life, and the blog eventually takes on a life of its own, and Julie ends up not only with a book deal, but also with a movie about her life (and Julia Child's life).
Inspiring, no?
To me, it was. Let's be honest, this blog isn't one of the big blogs, nor have I ever aspired to make it that way. It's just my space to write and talk about what's on my mind. And I'm fine with that. But what inspires me about Julie's story is the life changing aspect, and the belief that if you are motivated and want to change your life you can - if you figure out what you want to do and do it.
But to me, it was more than that. As weird as this sounds, I could totally relate to Julie Powell (the author, more than the movie character)

A couple of months ago I was getting my nails done and I picked up a magazine at the nail salon. I happened upon a a story written by her. It was actually an excerpt from her new book Cleaving.
I could not put the magazine down, and pretty much ran to the bookstore to pick up the book.
Admittedly she's come under a LOT of criticism for her book. Where Julie and Julia was a story, particularly in the movie, that was lighthearted and fun and inspiring, Cleaving is far far different.
The book claims to be about meat, marriage and obsession. And it really is. The book documents her life becoming a butcher, and somehow manages to tie in the affair she had and her obsessive nature about pretty much everything. And, the book is GRAPHIC, people. Graphic. It's not a book I'm going to pass on to my mom or many of my friends who I usually share books with.
But ... Cleaving, more than Julie and Julia, and more than pretty much any book I've read in ages, made me understand a lot about life. I don't mean to sound like a downer here, but the truth of life is that there isn't always a perfect ending to stuff. We all have dreams and goals and hopes and have an idea about how life is supposed to work out. And, sometimes, even when we get what we want, life isn't perfect.
Maybe it's just me, but sometimes I feel that even when I get what I want, when I work for something and don't attain it, I still want more. I need more direction, I have higher hopes. When Julie talks about marriage (we can skip the affair part for sake of my argument) she makes some pretty good points. Marriage isn't always the perfect little bubble you expect it to be when you recite your vows. It's work, and it's hard and somedays you cling to the fact that you love each other, even when the liking part isn't exactly happening. Hey, she calls her husband a saint, and I can say the same about Mike. He puts up with a lot from me because he loves me. And, we work things out and know that when things are tough (like you know, having a 5 1/2 year old with ADHD who needs new medication and a toddler who won't sleep and has decided to potty train herself) sometimes you just love each other and agree to brush the stupid stuff under the carpet and, you know, go to Disney World.
The point is, I have fully and completely embraced Julie's message. I kind of love her. Critics be damned.
So, I could just simply say that, move on, and whatever.
But, hello. This is me. And I don't do that. I don't just say wow, good book, moving on. Nope. I always feel the need to take some action.
And here's my plan.
Feel free to weigh-in on the craziness of it.
I have decided I'm going to go meet her. For real. The problem is this. She lives in New York, and her book signings are in places that are nowhere near where I am (Toronto). Also, book signings are one thing. But, I feel that traveling to New York to stand in line for hours (I would assume - she has fans, you know) to say hi for 30 seconds ... Really?
So, I have planned a road trip - Laural style.
I'm going to go to New York. And, I'm going to take my own little Julie and Julia/Cleaving pilgrimage. Seriously. I figure I'll take the bus down, and rent a car or something, maybe get a transit pass (though I have driven in NY) and go to all the places she mentions in her book. Well, not everything. But the important things like the butcher shop and you know, other key locations. Just because.
And while I'm at it I'm pretty determined to meet her. Not in a stalker way though. Just in a super-fan kind of way. I'm not quite sure to hook that one up, but where's there's a will there is a way. Right?
Crazy?
Maybe a little. But, I also figure that she was a huge Julia Child fan, and probably wouldn't think it's that weird. Also, she totally was driven to do what she did - embark on butchery, write books, go on trips, etc etc. I think she'd get it. I really do.
Also. This is just classic me. When am I at my best? When I have something to look forward to. A goal, even if it seems impossible, that I can put my mind to and accomplish. Part of me is scared that this is dumb, or ultimately that if I do meet her she won't like me. But, hey. Why would that happen? What's not to like? Hah! Do I think she'll somehow give me purpose in life. Well, not really. But, I do think she's cool. And what's to lose? Not much.
So, that. That is my true resolution.
What do you think? Anyone have any great ideas on how I can accomplish this?

Resolutions

Some people don't believe in resolutions. I do.
I don't live by them or make crazy ones. I had a friend once who resolved to give up chocolate for a year. INSANE. She didn't it, but I have no idea what the point was.
I've had my share of good resolutions and bad ones. And I think I have rounded it down to the fact that I need one resolutions that is measurable and attainable, one that is a little bit vague and one that is a bit of a challenge.
So, here are mine.

1) I want to learn to use chopsticks. For real. Yes, I sometimes make fun of people who use them, or, you know, keep them on their desk along with their cutlery (ahem ...). But, as a certain friend pointed out to me, I probably only mock his desk chopsticks cuz I can't use them myself. Point taken, resolution #1 decided upon.

2) I want to be kinder. See. Vague. But, lately I'm not sure kindness has been my strong suit. I've been a bit mean, and a little gossipy. And I haven't made a point of trying to be nice. I mean I am to random strangers, but I will try to extend that kindness to my family and friends just a little bit more. Because these kids here - they're awesome - and I need to be a little less strict and a little more fun.

4) Finally. I want to try to enjoy my workouts. I took a couple of weeks off of the gym, and I have to say it's been nice not getting up at 4am to go to the gym. And not caring about calories. And obsessing about how fast I can run. I actually miss going to the gym, but I want to go back and enjoy what I'm doing - not care so much about the calories and the burn and all of that and just enjoy exercise. And, along those lines, I'm also going to take it a little easier. If I want to get to the gym a few minutes later and then take the later train - I'm not going to sweat it.

So there.

So .... what are yours?

Tis the Season

It's been a long couple of weeks. Kind of busy. Kind of stressful. I'm exhausted (who isn't) and nowhere near ready for Christmas.
My kids are though.

Matt had his sk Christmas concert. My pictures aren't the best he did so well. He knew every word to every song and poem, and he was so excited and happy to be there.

And Chloe ... is a little in love with Santa.

Everything is "tanta" - it's pretty adorable. We have so far managed one photo in front of the tree. This is it. Chloe is in constant motion right now. Christmas morning should be interesting. And fun.

I should add, Chloe is in love with pictures of Santa, stuffed Santa toys (which she kisses) and Santa books. If you try to brng her near Santa she shouts "no no no" and buries her head in my shoulder.

Oh well. Maybe next year. Matt informed me that as her big brother he took care of telling Santa she's afraid of him an telling him what she wants for Christmas (a baby doll). So... that's covered off.

And so we bake ...

Every year my friend and I have talked about the famous Pioneer Woman Cinnamon buns. This year we decided to put our money where our mouths are and whip some up.

Four and a hours, copious amounts of coffee, lots of butter & cinnamon and of course a couple of Christmas movies later - we accomplished our task!

We were all wearing comfy clothes and not feeling terribly photogenic. But, whatever.

One little lesson we learned - doubling the butter isn't exactly the best idea, but it sure is yummy. (do not ask how much butter we used) Okay, and honestly, this is my idea of an artsy food shot. This may be why I am not the pioneer woman!

So at this point we were a little bit worried. They don't look so so perfect... but, wait! I may not be the best ever cook, but my friend Kerry J is (and she's crafty too)... And she told us to be patient. (my sister by this point had moved on to sewing) . AND LOOK!

PERFECT CINNAMON BUNS!!!
Sorry for the caps. But really, yum!
we don't have nearly enough so I may make another batch.

Want the recipe? Here ya go.

A New Day ...

I guess I left that chaos post up a little long because a lot of people were asking if I'm okay. That's not why I posted it, but it was nice to know that people care!
I'm not sure about anyone else, but one of the quirky things I do is keep quotes on hand that say wise stuff. The one I'm currently loving is a Judy Garland quote: "be a first rate version of who you are rather than a second rate version of someone else."
I love that.
How true is it?
So, going back to the whole chaos thing, sometimes I forget that if I just step back, be myself and stop worrying about what others think life is much easier.
Serioulsy, not always easy!
One of the things that was bugging me last week was this whole splitting with my trainer thing. He basically said that we had different priorities and that I wasn't losing enough weight. Fair enough, and let's be honest, I work hard but I eat too much.
But it made me feel like crap. Who wouldn't feel fat when their trainer dumps them for not losing weight? (oversensitive much). Granted, over a few drinks it is ridiculously funny. But still....
So today I went to the gym. It was a weird Monday since I was alone. And, since I know that I have to do a 5k race in June, and I maybe promised a friend we'd train for a half-marathon, I decided to screw the elliptical and go for the treadmill. Did I mention my trainer doesn't like the treadmill? (heh)
So, I ran. my. butt. off.
I didn't do 5 k. I ran for 20 minutes. And I sware the more I ran the better I felt about stuff. And the stronger I felt and the happier I felt.
And when I finished I was catching my breath, and one of the morning guys came over and said hi. As sociable as I am I really don't talk to gym people. It's 5 am. I'm not feeling social.
But, this guy came over, and asked why I wasn't training today. So, I said I was done.
Want to know what he said?
"We were just noticing how much stronger you look lately. You look great and toned, and I was thinking of working out with your trainer."
Nice.
Of course I told him the truth - that my trainer is great. We needed a break, but he's a nice guy, blahbity blah blah blah.
I meant it.
But, after months of training, getting up early to be at the gym, obsessing over diet and then blowing it, I realized that it's about me.
I can wake up early or sleep in.
I can be thin or fat.
I can have muscles or be weak.
But, who I am isn't going to change.
I'll admit that I've blown off the gym because I want to go for drink, and I know I won't get up. And I've scarfed down poutine. And, I eat too much candy.
But screw it. That's part of me.
I'll never be a model. I'll always fight the demon of wanting to be thin. I have to start training now to do a 5k in June, and a half marathon still seems like a completely impossible goal.
But really.  I refuse to be anyone else. 

Me drinking Princess Power Punch. Photo by my 7 year old niece, Kyla!

Chaos

Usually I feel like my life is somewhat balanced.
My kids are far enough apart that I can enjoy different stages in their lives.
I have a husband who helps a lot.
We have a nanny which means that a whole lot of weight is lifted off of our shoulders.
And I work full time.
Usually it is all fine.
Usually I balance getting up to go to the gym, coming home and getting myself fed and dressed and the kids up, chatting with the nanny, commuting to work, working all day, taking the train home, doing dinner, getting the kids to bed and spending half an hour or so watching tv.
I usually manage it with a smile on my face.
Sometimes I take a night off to go for drinks with friends or coffee with my sister. I spend time with friends and I do things for myself like get my hair done.
But this weekend I hit a wall.
My kids, who I love dearly, were driving me insane. My husband couldn't do anything right.
I'm stressing about Christmas. I'm stressing about work. I'm stressing about money. I'm stressing about an upcoming Disney trip. I'm stressing about what has to be done to get to Christmas. I'm stressed because I haven't given any thought to Christmas cards. I used to mail my Christmas cards, pictures and letter on November 1. Seriously. I don't even think I'm doing a Christmas letter this year. Will anyone care? Does that mean I need to do extra-long notes on my cards because I don't want to do that either.
I'm stressed because although we got awesome pictures of the 4 cousins this year, I don't have any pictures with Matt and Chloe and I should really do that.
And I've totally hit a wall. TOTALLY.
I'm at that point where I'm so busy being stressed that I'm not getting anything done. I assign myself so many tasks that I don't know where to start. And so I'm getting nowhere. Except I'm fighting with my family, and I may as well not even bother to go to the gym because I'm totally gaining weight. Really, I gained 2 lbs last week. I know it's cause I'm eating crappy. Don't get me started on my trainer who quit on me cuz my heart isn't in it. And he says I haven't made the connection to eating right.
Seriously.
It's like he thinks he's Jillian from Biggest Loser.
I have no balance with this crazy life I'm living. Right now anyway.

When I have balance I'm happy.
I feel like all the decisions we have made are the right ones.
I love my family more than life itself. But seriously.

When I tried to be a good mom and end the evening on a good note by baking with the kids even that didn't work. I freaked at Matt for grabbing a handful of muffin batter and filling his mouth with it (gross ... and then Chloe tried to do that). I got annoyed at Chloe for spilling a bag of raisins. And honestly, I think Mike is cowering in fear when I look in his direction.
And, I know this isn't what Christmas is about.
I know I should be watching the Santa Claus parade with my kids and sipping hot chocolate and trusting that everything will work out.
But, I'm not there yet.
And, I don't really know how to get there.

Friends

I spent a lot of time with friends this weekend.
I didn't plan it that way, but it's totally refreshing to relax around people, be yourself and just talk.
That's what happened friday night when I dragged my sweatpants clad butt to starbucks to meet one of my close friends.
And we chatted - and chatted - till they told us that they were closing. we thought we'd maybe been there an hour. Try almost 3!
I'm fortunate to have the kind of friend who I can not see in months and can catch up with in minutes. Those friendships are worth more than you ever realize when you are 16 and bonding over boyfriends, work crises and the meaning of love.
Then on Sunday I went out with another group of friends - my wondermommies.
It's funny because developing mom friends is tough.
I love this group.
We go from laughing to seriousness in seconds. One of the women made a comment about relying on everyone for something.
The comment made back "we are your friends. Please use us."
And I realized in that moment how grateful I am for my friends.
We don't agree on everything.
In fact I don't want my friends to always agree with me.
Sometimes we need someone to swap a recipe with. Sometimes we need someone to watch our kids. Sometimes we need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes we need someone to agree that yes, (fill in the blank) can be a complete asshole. Sometimes we need a shopping buddy, a friend to justify drinking an expensive latte with, someone to watch movies with or just someone to be. To not judge or laugh or talk. Just be there.
Sometimes I suck as a friend. I am self absorbed and more concerned about whether my eyebrows are properly groomed than whether you need me.
But you know ... Deep down those words are true.
I'm your friend - please use me.
Sure I wear my heart on my sleeve, laugh till I cry and sing along to the Hannah Montana soundtrack. But if you need that. Call. (I can also totally bake the starbucks mini mint brownies! But I cannot sew - that is my sister's job)
Yo Wondermommies. Call me. I luvs you. All of you!

Halloween

This weekend was, of course, Halloween!
I love Halloween. I love that it's the one holiday where there's no pressure to get together with specific people, plan schedules and figure out who is making what dish. Okay, so I do, according to my nieces, have a signature dish, bloody eyeballs (deviled eggs with green egg mix, a pimento olive and red food dye). But, that's easy and fun.
More fun, is enjoying said bloody eyeballs with a bunch of friends.

Oh I'm sorry it realy is about the children ... isn't it?

Well, they are children. Look at the swords.  And do you see the pirate theme happening? Love it.

And the kids. Adorable. Chloe was probably the most excitd of all of them (as you can see) even though she had no real clue what was going on. (Matt is Darth Vader in the back)

The night was great. Matt was thrilled to run from house to house with the boys and Kyla - and I was delighted to play princess with my baby girl.

And eat candy with my friends. Love love love.

Hope everyone had as much fun as we did.

There Be Monsters

Matt is scared of dracula. And Medusa. And all the monsters in our house.
We've never really dealt with fears like this.
Matt is a brave kid. He has never been afraid of stuff. When we go to Disney World he loves "Snow White's Scary Ride" - laughed when the witch pops out (my nieces refused to even line up). That's just how he is.
But recently he's been scared of everything.
Maybe it's Halloween. I don't know.
But I feel bad for him.
I'm also exhasuted.
Last night he freaked out whenever Mike or I went downstairs. So, I ended up staying upstairs with him. And he slept with his light on.
And then at 3:45 he woke up screaming. Terrified. He'd seen Dracula.
So while Mike calmed down the woken up Chloe, I sat with Matt, rubbed his back and helped him fall back to sleep.
This has been going on for a week. He is terrified.
I remember those fears. I was always like that. I used to run into my sister's room and snuggle up in her bed. Honestly, when our husbands are away we still occassionally have sleepovers. I hate going in the basement or upstairs if I'm home alone.
And, I'm totally jumpy when I am outside in the dark.
I don't know how it started. But, I know I don't want Matt to have the stupid fears I do.
I'm hoping part of this is because of Halloween. Otherwise I think we'll have to figure something out.Cuz. Sleep. I need it. And so does he!