Driving Error

Crunch!

Here's something you may not know about me. I do not excel at driving.
The Ontario Graduated Licensing System came into effect the year I turned 16. For those who don't know, this is a system where to be fully licensed you have to take 3 tests - one written and two driving. The first driving test is comprised of the basics such as driving on city streets, parking, parallel parking etc. This is considered the easy test. The second test is the highway driving test where you are tested on more advanced skills such as merging onto the highway and yet another parallel park. This is considered the hard test.
A lot of people complained about graduated licensing. For me (and those who share the roads with me) it was a good thing.
I passed the written test with flying colours. That is where my driving success ended.
I went on to attempt 5 G1 exit tests. Yes. That's the "easier" of the tests. I won't get into details. They will scare you. I will say that in one test I actually freaked out the teacher so much that he asked me to pull over so he could drive back. However, he did complement me on my parallel parking skills.
It wasn't just a series of errors. I was horrible. I took driver training with 2 different teachers. Neither were successful in eliminating my fear of other drivers, merging into traffic or pretty much driving in general.
My parents took me driving on many occasions. Though they swore they were clear headed, if they secretly had a few drinks before getting in the car with me I would not have blamed them. It was scary.
My brother-in-law made a concerted effort at teaching me. Though I have to say he was the most calm instructor he could not manage to help me get through a test.
Finally, when I got engaged, I secretly went out and took tests. The only people who knew were my Young Drivers teacher, Mike (my then fiancee) and Sabrina (one of my closest friends). For the first time in my life I had a teacher who made me feel confident behind the wheel. He would shout at me when I wasn't aggressive enough, tell me that pedestrians weren't royalty - so don't give them so much space, and would get pissed off if I didn't go through a yellow. In fact, when it came time to teach me highway driving, he took me on a lesser known entrance to the DVP and told me to speed up because I was on a highway.
I loved the guy. He was not going to teach me if I was going to be afraid. I got rid of my fears, hopped in the car and drove.
In between lessons Mike would let me drive his car. My big issue was parallel parking and backing up. So for weeks on end we spent hours in the car. Mike had his headphones on and closed his eyes and I would sob and wail and scream and cry and try my best to back up. Eventually I mastered it.
And then I took my driving test. AND PASSED. Fifth time was a charm, I guess.
In fact, I got a perfect test. When the instructor told me that I was so shocked and excited and proud that I started crying. I could not stop crying. He went in and found my instructor who tried to comfort me. But, I had to explain these were happy tears. He had to take me in and to the correct lineup because I was so emotional.
Of everything I've done in life, this was the one thing that I was unwilling to fail on no matter how much effort it took.
I drove Mike's old car for a few months and then we bought a nice shiny new car. It was kind of a dumb move, since I still wasn't that great a driver, but I was proud.
My second test was not that exciting. When I found out I was pregnant I booked a test, grabbed my mom (since our shiny new car had a huge dent on it which I thought would hinder my passing abilities) and I passed on the first try. I think my giant stomach helped matters. And there was no traffic.
However, I am still a pretty crappy driver.
I'm lacking in hand-eye coordination. I sometimes speed and sometimes drive under the speed limit. I listen to the radio too loud. I talk on my phone and use my blackberry while driving. I am not horrible, but I would not rate myself perfect. By any means.
I've never gotten a ticket - except for parking.
I've never been in an accident. That is, I've never had an accident with another person/car. I've driven into parking garage pillars, posts, garbage cans, etc.
But then today ... I drove into a curb. Or kind of into and over it. Who knows. It was the loudest thing I've ever heard. I completely destroyed my front tire.
WHO DOES THAT????

Matty inspects the damage ... "Mommy broke the wheel."

I was so excited to take Matthew to the park today. But, he started to scream when I was driving into the playground parking lot. I looked back at him and accidentally drove over the curb. Holy crap. It was the loudest noise ever. I'm kind of accustomed to doing stupid things like this, but today I actually broke my tire.
I didn't think I'd done any damage until I went to get out of the car and realized that I was a lot closer to the ground than normal. Hmmm ...
Another mom came over. And asked if I was okay. Considering Matthew was singing away and none of the air bags had gone off I was. I said "I just don't know why the car is so low."
She was like "well, your tire us flat."
Crap.

This is the real reason we were here - not to fix the car

So, I called Mike and he came over in our borrow Saturn (thanks, Beck) to observe the situation.
While we were waiting we actually did play in the park. It was warm. We had fun. And then Mike arrived.
He wasn't mad at all. (used to me perhaps?)
It turns out that he has changed flat tires before, so it was fine. Our car actually had a jack and spare tire. I didn't know cars came with all that stuff. So, Mike changed the tire while Matt said over and over again "Daddy is fixing the wheel. Mommy broke it. She crashed our car."
Thanks, Matt.
So ....
I'm now a little traumatized by my stupid driving experience, but thankfully all is well. We'll get a new tire the tire will get fixed and I will watch out for curbs. Fun fun Sunday afternoon.
The funniest part of all of this is that Matthew thought the whole thing was planned for his enjoyment. He loves fixing things, and what is more fun than a broken car and a playground at the same time??

How great is it that Mommy brought her camera for such an occasion. "Stand next to the broken car and say Cheese!"

My Revelation

Part of my angst yesterday, in addition to being sad about my friend, is a bit of a guilt issue. I've written about guilt before. I'm a person who feels guilty about a lot of things, who says sorry a lot and who cries at the drop of a hat. You could say I'm overly sensitive or that I wear my heart on my sleeve.
I don't think that's a bad thing.
It's who I am.
But add a child to the mix, which I did about 3 years ago, and guilt can be an overpowering emotion.
When I first went back to work I felt incredible sadness for leaving my child. I also felt incredible guilt. This post isn't about that. I'm proud of my decision. Matthew is fine in daycare. We're happy.
But there are times when I'm not.
And, sometimes, work sucks.
In fact, someone mentioned to me the other day that they don't call work "work" because it is fun, but because it is work. That kind of bummed me out. I mean, you spend the majority of your day there. Sure, you're there to do a job, but really.
I do kind of like work sometimes. In fact a lot of the time.
And today, I was feeling pretty good about things at work. It was bonus day (yay!) and it was Friday (yay!)
So back to my original point. I was still feeling pretty guilty for going to work and leaving my child. I was going down that path of wondering what my priorities were and whether I should be working.
And I realized something.
I have to choose to be happy.
That sounds pretty simple. But it's true. If I'm going to make the conscious choice to leave Matt everyday and go to work, even though it's out of necessity, I'm going to stop being so negative. The stuff I don't like I'm going to put up with. And then stuff I like I'm going to enjoy it.
I remember thinking when I first went back how nice it was to sit for extended periods of time, to have the luxury of a quiet cup of coffee if I needed it, and to have a conversation that was not centred on all things baby.
I've forgotten about that lately.
So from now on I'm going back to being positive, to looking for the good in my day, and meeting the challenges head on. I know they aren't all wonderful and fun, but onward we go.

PS This will be one of the posts I look back on and think wow. I was really dorky that day!

Sending Love

Last night over dinner my parents told us that a friend of the family has breast cancer.
The sad thing about this is that her son is about a year younger than mine. I can't imagine going through something like this knowing you have a young child, hoping for the best and fearing the worst.
I haven't seen her in awhile. In fact, it's been more than a year. We had dinner and chatted about breastfeeding vs. formula and sleep issues. It's one of those friendships you can drift in and out of - and catch up with the person when you see them.
I didn't really expect that the next e-mail would be announcing breast cancer.
Part of me is sad and worried. The other part of me feels kind of guilty. I realized that I trust way too much that people will just always be there when I want to hang out. I'm so guilty about letting friendships go too much, focusing on the people who are close at the time (distance wise in many cases) and saying "maybe next weekend we'll go see ..."
Luckily most of my friends are okay with this. Maybe part of this is due to the fact that I ama bit of a high intensity person and so sometimes Laural in small doses is a good thing. Or, maybe it's cause people know that if they are my friend I LOVE them.
But my point is, this is something I'm going to change.
So, please, go out. Call someone you haven't talked to in a bit just to say hi. It's totally worth it.
And, while you're doing something nice, say a prayer, think a good thought or do whatever it is you do to wish my friend luck. Her name is Lisa, and right now I think she needs whatever hope we can send her way.

Tag!!!

Gotta say, I love tag! I play it with Matthew. I play it on the internet. I'm actually one of those people who will fill out the e-mails that are 100 questions that you have to send to all your friends. LUV them (when I have time).
So, being tagged by Haley is super cool. In case you don't know who she is check out her blogs. What's not to like - she loves America's Next Top Model and blogs about celebrities.

Anyway ...

THE TAG: FIVE REASONS WHY I BLOG

FIVE REASONS WHY I BLOG:

1. I LOVE the comments. Sometimes they make me cry (in a good way). Bloggers are very supportive people.
2. It's cool to know that people care what goes on in my life
3. It encourages me to keep writing
4. It's nice to have a forum to talk about things that are important to me.
5. Matthew is my favourite topic, and I love writing about him and seeing how he is growing.

And I tag ...

Multi-tasking Mommy, My husband, Ruthie, and Leece (who I hate since she's in Mexico!)

No No No

Our conversation tonight:
Matthew: "Mommy. I want my show. I want Treehouse."
Me: "Nope. Mommy's show is on."
Matthew: "No. I want my show. I want Treehouse. I WAAANNNT TREEHOUSE."
Mike and I together: "No. No Treehouse."
At the time we had on Entertainment Tonight which was being drowned out by his screaming.
"OK."
He looked right at us, walked over to the tv, and turned it off.
Wow!
If only I had the nerve to be so outspoken.
Part of me wants to tame this toddler. But part of me wants to let him be like this, because that's what's going to get him ahead in life.
(and we really didn't need to watch ET anyway.)

Painting ... Not for the Faint of Heart

Today was supposed to be our "do nothing day." I promised to sleep in and have no plans for the day.
The sleeping in part worked. I didn't get up until 7:30 and then had no mad panic to have a shower. I came downstairs and even made us all breakfast - something I never do. And then I was sitting, and trying to figure out what was bothering me. This ...

I HATE this colour of green. Every time I walk down the hall I want to scream. So, despite our plans for a quiet day I pulled out the primer and the green painters' tape and went to town.
Notice how similar the greens are: (the walls were also dirty and filled with old smoke from the previous owner)


When our big container of primer came out Matthew realized what was going on and asked to paint as well. Why not? I found him a little paintbrush and thought I'd let him do some painting which he thought was a lot of fun.


It was a lot of fun so Matthew painted and painted and painted.


He soon realized that the crappy little paintbrush I had given him was not nearly as effective as the large roller that I was using. When I said no to him using the roller he took matters into his own hands...


LITERALLY!!!


We tried to stop him, but every time I tried to say no he smiled and I started to laugh. I ran for the camera and Mike had to leave the room because he was finding the mess so stressful.


But the truth is, he was actually doing a great job of getting the wall covered, and we were having fun, so what was the big deal? He was being helpful, and the paint was water-based.
At the end of it all it turned out very well. Matty was very proud if his masterpiece. A nice bath and he was fine.


I had told Mike we'd just prime it all then leave it for a bit and decide on a colour.
As if.
Halfway through I left Mike painting and Matt watching Cars and went off to Home Depot to choose my paint colour. I went with a taupe - called "Designer White" which is a pale taupe. (for the record - not remotely white, so I don't understand the name) It is growing on me. It's the colour of my skin. Strange. I think I would blend into my wall if I tried. So that's a little weird. But it's soooo much nicer than the horrible green.


I know that the colour is a little bit boring, but I'll take light, airy and boring over that horrible dark hospital green anytime.
My favourite part of it all is the little footprint Matt left on the floor. I know, it's hardwood and we need to clean it off, but part of me would like to keep this momento forever.


Oh! What am I saying. We have every intention of flipping this house and moving on up. So, the footprint will go. Thank goodness for digital cameras :)

Gymnastics ... Season 2

Yesterday at gymnastics we got the forms to enroll for the next session of gymnastics. I almost signed up on the spot, but then took the form home to think about for a bit.
Part of me really wants to go back. And I asked Matthew. We were sitting in the Tim Horton's drive through for about an hour (okay 5 minutes) and so I explained that we had to decide if we wanted to go back or not.
Here's the thing. Having a three year old, which he will be next month, gives us a couple of options. We can do the Mommy and Me class again which we are currently in. Or, I could bring him, do the warm up, and then he could go off with a class.
So, I asked Matt which he wants.
He was decisive. He wanted the class with Mommy.
Now, to me this is pretty cool. This is the answer I was looking for (deep down) though NOT chasing my hyperactive toddler through a gym is also quite appealing.
But, still I hesitated to sign up.
The thing is, as much as he likes it, I kind of think he doesn't. He's not his normal social self. He wants to hold my hand the whole time. Unlike at school where he loves his teachers and hangs off their every word, here it's a different story. One of his coaches he pays no attention to. The other he kind of likes. But, he's just as happy with me holding him the whole time as he is to swing on the bars.
Here's where the Mommy guilt thing comes in.
I feel like this is all happening because what he really needs is one-on-one time with me.
I'm beginning to think that he's so programmed during the week that on Saturday morning maybe he doesn't want to go and do an organized sport where he is told what he has to do and when.
I'm kind of with him on that.
I like the idea of it. I like the activity. But it is really rushed to get out the door and be on the other side of town for 9am every Saturday morning.
I'm not saying I won't sign him up for any activities. I know this child and he loves activity. I just think he may get more out of something less structured. Like an art class. (god help me I have no artistic ability - maybe Becky could take him?) Or a music class. Or just a walk in the park. I kind of think he'd be just as happy to go for a run since he loves to run laps around the gym.
Not to mention garage sale season is coming up.
Matthew and I bond over the good deals and sense of accomplishment that brings. Not to mention the fun trip to Tim Hortons that most garage sale days bring.
You know - I think we'll sit out the next session. But maybe in the fall ... we'll see.

Making It Right

Earlier this week I wrote about my issues when I took my son to Chapters on the weekend. I was pretty annoyed.
But, then I got an e-mail from someone at Indigo (the company that owns Chapters) who had read my blog. It was a very nice e-mail. I felt much better.
And then the store manager called me today.
We had a very nice conversation. I'd said my piece in the letter. He called to apologize. We had a really nice chat. He made me feel welcome in the store. I explained where I was coming from - that kids will be kids, and let's use some tact.
He agreed.
So, I'll go back.
After all, this book just came out, and I really wanted to buy it. And I have. And it's great.
And soon the book that I've been waiting forever for is coming out - and I plan to buy it the minute I can. So ...
I really wanted to clear this up.
Cause how sucky would it be if I couldn't go to the store that I normally really love.
Good work Chapters!!!

LOVE

Today Matthew said "I love you, Mommy."
We were in a big rush this morning, but he needed an extra cuddle. And so we sat, as time passed way to quickly, and had an extra morning snuggle.
And, when I got up to finish getting ready he said to me "Thank you for the hugs. I love you."
Wow.
When Matthew was little I wasn't sure he would ever say this to me. I can remember sitting with a good friend of mine when our babies were really little. We were sitting in a playgroup with these two infants who went from nursing to screaming and back to nursing then back to screaming.
We were exhausted. And frustrated.
And she turned to me sobbing and said "sometimes I feel like this child hates me."
I looked at her and started to cry too. No one had said it before, but I felt exactly the same way.
No matter what I tried, how much I fed him, how many parenting books I read this child would cry and cry and cry. And then nurse. And then cry some more. And he didn't sleep.
And I often had that nagging feeling that this baby just didn't like me at all.
Year one was not easy. I don't talk about it a lot because it's hard to explain to people how I loved my child so much but just didn't feel adequate or successful. And I really truly wondered if my child even liked me. (well, except for the whole nursing thing).
It slowly got better.
Eventually Matthew started to sleep through the night (18 months - though he still sometimes wakes up).
He started talking, and expressing his feelings and being this generally cool kid. And, then over these past few months I've started to realize that he actually does like me.
But today, when he told me he loved it, it melted my heart.
If someone told me two and a half years ago that one day, out of the blue, I would hear the words "I love you" it would have made it so much easier.
I love you too, Matty. With all my heart.

whine whine whine

Maybe it is just my week to whine but whatever...
On sunday we took Matt to Chapters. We love that store. Usually. I love books. Matt loves the Thomas table. I love sipping a latte while Matt plays.
Sunday was different.
Matt way playing with the trains making train noises. He was doing more of a "woo woo" noise than a "choo choo" noise. Still - clearly a train. I was watching him and smiling.
Then a store employee walked over to me. He said "sorry to bug you but your kid's screaming is disturbing our customers. Please tell him to be quiet."
And then he walked away before I could say anything.
WTF!?!?
This is Chapters. It was Sunday at noon. My child was being good and playing. I had books in my hands to purchase.
Two days later I am still furious.
I probably should have spoken to the manager but I didn't. Why? Because I had that indignant anger where I wanted to hit someone. And I thought I would likely cry. I know sometimes tears are effective but not on Sunday. Plus we were having family time and I didn't want to ruin it by getting angry.
When we were leaving I explained to matthew that mommy was upset because the man said something mean and I explained I would be happy if we left.
He was okay with that.
And then we went home.
And as I love to do I wrote a letter. I addressed it to the store manager. And to bring my point home I also cc'd the CEO and VP marketing for indigo/chapters. My explanation - this is customer service at its worst. I was humiliated.
I sent the letters off today. I am curious about what the results will be. Will they respond? (I hope so) I sincerely hope that at the end of the day they fix the problem. Because after all, this store is supposed to welcome kids.
The sad news is that I am currently boycotting the store until I hear back (just the one location not the whole chain). And today one of my favourite authors had a book come out. And I need something to read.

Hair ... or The Day I Cheated on Bill

Last week I cheated on my beloved Bill (my hair stylist) - he's near the bottom of that link.
I didn't mean to. I promise.
I've always gone to Bill to cut my hair and gone elsewhere for colour. Bill doesn't colour hair; it would be someone else at his salon who does it. So, I never think twice about going somewhere else to get my colour done.
Here's why.
I usually tell people that it is because it would cost a lot of money to get highlights done at Bill's Salon. This is likely true. However, let me tell you, my beloved internet friends, the truth behind the hair colour thing and cut thing.
When I go and see Bill I work hard at being cool. I plan the outfit in advance. I book the appointment weeks ahead of time. Closer to the appointment I think up conversation topics and events in my life that have been interesting and/or humourous. You have to understand that Bill is a celebrity in his own right and I'll say, "so what have you been up to?" and he will say something like "not much, just went to Italy and France, and then was on Cityline a few times." My life pales in comparison.
So when he says "how about you?" I can't wing it. In fact, if I saw him outside of my well planned visits I think I would have no idea what to say.
You have to understand that this is the person who talked me into going to journalism school and taking as many driving tests as necessary till I finally passed (incidentally we both got our licenses at the same age). I respect and admire him - and I want him to at least think I'm successful in life in my own right.
He is the king of cool to me.
Now the average appointment with him is about 45 minutes start to finish. I feel I have a sufficient cool quotient to get me through 45 minutes every few months.
Hair colour would add at least 2 hours.
I sware I am not cool enough. I would run out of conversation topics. I understand that I would not be spending all of the time with him, but I would feel the need to make whomever is doing the colour like me, and I may fail. And so much for my reputation.
So, I go elsewhere.
And, I haven't found a place I like so I always try different salons.
Last week I went to a new place near my house.
I booked highlights. I explained I didn't want a cut.Prior to going to the appointment I talked with the guy doing highlights. It was very clear.
The guy's name was Dominick.
I went in for the appointment. It was going okay. Now, I have to admit I was totally thrown off by the fact that he was straight and oozing with testosterone. Weird. But I had to trust him once the bleach was in my hair. We ran out of conversation topics really quickly.
So, the topic of who usually cuts my hair comes up. Usually hairstylists have heard of Bill. He's known. Once I had someone actually study the haircut while doing highlights. It's what I expect. Give the guy some respect.
But Dominick had never heard of Bill, and since he hadn't heard of Bill, the conversation moved on to the topic of celebrity hairstylists in general. Somehow Jie came up. He is quite famous (I first read about him in Toronto Life, I think). I've never been to him or his salon, but I just thought everyone knew of him - especially hairstylists. But, Dominick had no clue. So I whipped out my blackberry and googled him.
Apparently this annoyed Dominick. He felt the testosteroney need to prove he was better.
So, there I was with my hair in foil arguing with a hair stylist I'd never been to about another hairstylist I had never been to, who I don't really care about, but whose honour I was defending for the mere fact that he was being criticized for absolutely no reason. And, I'm guessing that despite Jie's arrogant reputation he is not nearly as annoying Dominick.
And, then in the middle of me waiting for my hair colour to sink in he comes back to tell me that he's been to Jie's website now, he's not that good, but that he liked the lime green hairstyle. Ummm, hello. That is not what you should tell someone who has not yet seen her colour,. (check out the portfolio and though it is lovely the green do it is not what I was going for)
Then he left and I sat and sat and sat and contemplated all that was this appointment.
Finally my hair was ready to be washed and styled. Or so I thought.
We washed out the bleach and colour - and he pulls out his scissors.
"So, how are we cutting it?" he asks me.
I looked at him dumbfounded and finally said "we're not cutting it."
The guy freaks out - completely. And starts shouting "I plan my colour around the cut. You must cut it."
Finally I gave in. I know. Stupid. But the guy was wielding scissors and I was scared. In the end the hair cut wasn't so bad. I was very insistent that it was a trim. The experience sucked. He managed to criticize Bill's haircut, my hair type (normal) , my hair colour and my face shape. He insisted that I straighten my hair since my hair doesn't look healthy in its natural state.
Amazingly, I left there looking pretty darn good - especially since my hair had been significantly lightened and I had, afterall, just learned that "blondes are much hotter than brunettes".
I'm now living with the look.
To be honest, it's growing on me. I like how my hair looks straightened. I kind of like the highlights (despite one meltdown the other day).
What I don't like is the way I feel after being there.
The thing I love about Bill, what I have always loved, and what everyone else probably loves is that he doesn't try to change everything about me. My hair is my hair. It's got body. No matter what hair cut I've had that has always been incorporated.
I'm guessing if he knew I was straightening it every day he'd probably tell me not to - not because it doesn't look good, but because it's not me. He's all about enhancing things about yourself. He cuts my hair with the bit of natural wave I have because why fight it. He encourages layers so my face doesn't look round (though he never says that). He makes sure that when I leave I feel beautiful and that I like myself.
These days when I get up in the morning I feel like to be pretty I need my brand new straightening iron. I need to style and fluff and then leave the house looking decent. And, that's not how Bill makes me feel. Somehow he has this amazing power to look at me, fluff my hair, tell me I'm gorgeous and then send me on my way.
Sure it's a little pricey, but it's worth every penny. And, the truth is that at the end of the day, knowing that someone like Bill has a high regard for me makes me feel pretty damn great most of the time - even if I can't be bothered to pull out my straightening iron or touch up my new blonde highlights. (I actually plan to go dark when my roots show)
I wonder if Bill knows this. Maybe I'll print this and mail it to him (he doens't read my blog). And then he'll get just why so many people love him.
You know, I'm pretty sure that Bill will forgive me for cheating. I've done it before and he forgave me. And, I'm pretty sure if someone was threatenng him with scissors and a complete meltdown he'd probably do the same thing.
Who knows - maybe he'll think the blonde is hot. Ha.
Posted below are a couple of pics. One is me now - straightened hair and all. The other is the old me, dark hair and a few waves. I'd love to hear your opinions on the looks. So ... what do you think????


Above - This is the new "do" straightened and lightened.
Below - dark hair with a little more body.

The Victory Drill Book

Matthew's current favourite book is the beloved Moo Baa La La La. It's a good book. I've been reading it to him for so long that we don't actually need the book - we just recite it.
I've had lots of favourite books growing up, but the one iconic book that stands out for both my sister and I is the Victory Drill Book.
I'm not sure why Becky and I took to this book quite so much.
Quite simply put, it is a book full of words. It's a traditional drill book from probably the 1950's. It's a very simply laid out book that starts with the most basic of words and goes up to very difficult words.

At the front of the book there is a guideline that says the average number of words per grade level. My sister and I took that quite seriously, and I think we quite honestly believed that we could be the best readers in the world.
On our annual trips to Florida, where my parents would drive the 23 hour drive in 2 days, we would have Victory Drill book competitions. We would speed through the lines of words as fast as humanly possible. We would time ourselves. If you flip through the book you can see we have actually counted the words, and written numbers next to some of the words (i.e. 400 and 800).
Tonight when Matthew wanted yet another story I pulled out the Victory Drill Book. He was not impressed when I started just reading off lines of text.
To me it was pretty funny.
I remembered the good times we had in serious reading competition.
In the letter to parents at the front of the book it claims that doing the drills in this book would lead to "reading success".
I think that the authors of the book would be happy to know that I did go on to reading success. I do think that the hours and hours spent reading those words helped me develop some pretty amazing spelling skills. Growing up I almost always had perfect spelling tests. And, I did go on to graduate from journalism school. Thanks, Victory Drill Book!


I'm not going to force Matthew to do drills. I don't actually think that my parents ever pushed us into doing these drills. In fact, I think my parents never knew why we were so impressed with this book. They certainly provided us with books that had pictures. But, I guess somethings are just a bizarre hit.
Hey, Beck, I think we should have a reading face off - one more time. Just to see who is the faster reader!!!

Where'd my Baby Go?

I spent the last few days with Matthew. On Monday he had a half day at daycare, on Tuesday we went on a field trip and then spent the afternoon together, and then yesterday I took him to get some photos done and then we hung out for the day.
I realized something yesterday. My baby is no longer a baby. He's a kid.
Take for instance the GO train ride to Toronto. He was really good. We sat on the train and chatted the whole time. He listened to me. We had fun.
Don't get me wrong, he's very definitely in need of constant supervision, but suddenly it seems like he understands so much more. I would say things have changed within the past couple of weeks. He's cool. He makes me laugh.
One of the things that I LOVE about being an aunt in particular to my older niece Kyla (and what I'm looking forward to with my younger niece Paige), is that she's fun to hang out with. She makes me laugh. She tells me stories. I feel like she wants to be with me.
It's fun going to Walmart with her and trying on silly shoes. Same with Payless. Did you know they make light up shoes for adults at Payless? They are clear vinyl and really high heels that light up when you walk. Not a fashion statement I want to encourage, but I've never laughed so hard as when I showed Kyla the fancy shoes.
And the thing is, Matt is becoming just like this. And, I LOVE it.
I love that he can talk me into getting him Mrs. Fields cookies because they are his favourite.
I love that he knows just what he wants to watch on tv.
As he gets older it amazes me that I just keep loving this child more and more.
Today when I got home from work I was taking him out of his car seat. I said to him "I was really sad when I went to work today because I missed you."
He looked at me, gave me a huge hug and said "I missed you too, Mommy." And then he looked at me and said "Mommy, let's ride the GO Train tonight."
Too cute.
In a couple of months he will be 3. I booked his birthday party today. He doesn't really care where it is, but I went with the suggestion of his 4 year old cousin who knew exactly where the party should be.
I'm getting really excited.

The funniest gym night ever

Last night my sister and I went to the gym. (Beck, please do NOT kill me for telling this story).
We had this personal training session set up where we were going to set up a routine for weights and stuff. So we had to go to the gym early.
When you have a session you have to go to the front desk and let them know you're ready.
As we were walking to the desk (maybe 5o steps from the change room) my normally reserved sister saw someone we went to school with. Specifically someone we went to elementary school with. For the sake of argument we'll call her Marsha Brady because she is just that annoying.
Neither of us liked her. She wasn't awful, just really annoying. And not someone we would choose to hang up with as we got older.
So, Becky sees her and says to me, "OH CRAP MARSHA BRADY!"
It was so loud.
Usually my sister speaks quietly. People ask her to repeat herself. Not today. I think the entire gym heard her.
So there we were, standing at the front desk giggling because she had just shouted this. And, the thing is, we're totally recognizable.
My sister has curly red hair and is really skinny. I have dark brown hair (currently highlighted) and am a little on the chubby side. When we are together, people who have not seen us in years recognize us.
I'm not sure if "Marsha" was just so focused on her workout that she didn't see us, or if she ignored us. But, she's not the type of person to ignore us, so I'm pretty sure she didn't see us.
This may have been because Becky decided to hide behind me for the rest of the evening. She insisted on finding the most distant treadmills and actually did a crouching walk to avoid all eye contact.
The highlight for me was offering on numerous occassions to invite her to belly dancing. I thought Becky may kill me.
Soon our friend left. But, I tell you, the gym is a small place. I'm sure to run into her again.
And, on another note. We had ana awesome training session. I'm totally into doing weights now. I'm hoping some of the trainer's suggestions pay off.

Field Trip

Today was my first ever field trip as a parent.
I was anxious. In my never ending quest to measure up as a parent I wasn't quite sure how it would go, if I'd fit in or if I'd screw up.
Turns out it was awesome.
Four teachers plus myself took 20 children aged 2.5-6 years old to a nursing home where they sang songs, read stories and did crafts. We were there for about an hour.
The trip itself was not all that eventful. There was a lot of helping kids with their coats, making playdoh snowmen and wiping a few tears.
What made it so awesome was the feeling of being needed and wanted and special. I'm used to my son wanting to hold my hand. I'm used to my nieces wanting to hold my hand. I'm not used to a whole bunch of kids loving me cause I'm the new adult in town. I don't know how to explain it better than the word heart warming.
I know that at work I'm needed. But this was different. I got the feeling that if I wasn't there the kids may have fallen or not been able to get their coats on. And when I offered my hand or gave them a hug or put them in the right direction there was this unwavering trust.
It was cool.
It also broke my heart just a little that I miss this every day. But on that I won't dwell, because as awesome as that hour was - it was an hour. I could not do that all day every day.
What I have realized is that I need to get out there a little more. I will definitely be volunteering for more field trips. And maybe I will volunteer for other stuff. I used to work with seniors, and I may see if there are any volunteer opportunities. I think it would be well worth it.
I had planned to leave Matt at daycare and have an afternoon off. But that did not happen. He wanted to stay with me, so we filled our afternoon with a haircut for Matt (side note - this kids hair place has so many kids who have grown up getting their hair cut there and never left that they had to install a larger chair for the "college kids". hilarious). He sat in a bumper car and watched a movie. Life was good.
And then we bonded and had treats.
It was fun.
Oh - and we bought another monster truck.
Fun all around. And since I've had 5 full days of not watching what I eat tonight I'm getting my butt kicked into gear with a session with a personal trainer followed by belly dancing.
Yikes!

Ballet, Cousins, and a Day Off

Today I took a day off.
I had no agenda, and nothing special planned. That is until my sister mentioned that Monday is ballet for my niece, so I had the amazing privilege of attending the baby ballet class.
This was by far the cutest thing I'd ever seen. Of course, Kyla was the most adorable ballerina in her class. They totally made me laugh when they danced around and followed the teachers. And, at one point Kyla ran out of the room to give me a hug which totally made my day. Too sweet.
After ballet we went for a quick Starbucks and then Kyla and I went to pick up Matthew just before lunch.
Lunch for us was weiner wraps. Yummy! We bought pillsbury crescent rolls and wrapped the weiners in them. We added a bit of ketchup and then baked them. Delicious. Kyla and Matty totally got in on the act, helping roll and squeeze the ketchup. Plus, the two of them devoured the hot dogs when they were done.
After lunch we went to my sister's house to see my new second cousin (my cousin's baby). This baby is adorable. Matt was totally smitten by her. He kept saying "Kallysta is soooo cute." And she was. She slept the entire time and had little chubby cheeks.
I have to admit, though, I was a little jealous. She sleeps all day. In fact, my cousin sets her alarm clock for feedings every 3 hours. I am really happy for her, just like I was happy for my sister when she had a quiet baby. But, I have to say it's not all that fair. Why is that I went for a good year on NO sleep? And, I was in severe pain after Matt was born. My cousin is going to step classes and she has a seven week old. Not me. At seven weeks I was barely able to get through a day.
And, just as a side note, if one more person says to me "this is why you need a second - because it will be a quiet and easy baby." ahhhhh! No. I'm not willing to risk it for the experience of a quiet baby. There's always the possibility of a more active more screaming active baby. And, that I could not take. Anyway, way off topic!
The baby really was quite adorable, all jealousy aside, and I wouldn't trade my monkey for the world, even if I am still recouperating my sleep.
So after a bit of a visit I took Matt and Kyla on yet another adventure. We went to the $2 sale at Once Upon a Child and then to McDonald's. I got the best stuff for both kids at the clothing store. Kyla was smitten by the "Irish Dancing" dress I bought for her. It is black velvet with a tartan skirt. It's actually kind of funny, but she loved it, and who was I to refuse her. I almost said no since I thought it would be too small, but I took a chance on it since it was, after all, only $2. I don't think it will fit her for long, but it will get her at least to St. Patrick's day, and that's all you can ask for when you're a four year old with an Irish heritage.
Matthew was not quite as excited by the racks of clothing, but I managed to find him a pretty cool monster truck which I bought and opened and then he had a major temper tantrum becasue he wanted the blue monster truck not the red one. I felt really bad because there was a super pregnant lady watching the whole scene, and the ladies in the store were (bordering on rude) trying to help me calm him down. I had visions of her going into labour from the sheer terror of what was to lay ahead. I finally picked him up and took him out of the store. I was pretty close to just buying the monster truck that he wanted, but thought no, this is not good parenting. So I convinced him that we would get the blue truck the next time we are at that store, and miraculously he stopped crying.
Once we solved that problem Matt, Kyla and I walked across the parking lot to McDonalds where we enjoyed some fries and time in the play place.
This play place was really big and there was a huge climbing apparatus. It was pretty cool because Kyla could get through but Matt couldn't. I wasn't quite sure what to do. They wanted to stay, but he was just too little. I felt bad, but I was kind of curious how it would play out. Just when I was about to intervene they came up with a solution. It was pretty darn cute. Matt would climb first, and then Kyla would come behind him and give his butt a push and they'd get up the next step. I had to laugh. They were both pretty exhausted by the time we left.
The day went by way too quickly. It was fun.
But today has also left me wondering, how on earth do stay-at-home moms do it??? One day of this and I'm wiped.

Valentine's Weekend

Wanna know what I did this weekend?
I bet you do.
I did a whole lot of nothing followed by some relaxing and some napping.
It was fantastic!
After some pampering (well, kind of, I got my hair done but that's another story) on Friday morning, Mike and I went away for a weekend in Muskoka.
It was amazing.
We basically planned nothing other than the hotel. We didn't rush to get there, and we had no pre-set plans. The entire weekend was about relaxing and having some time together.
We spent a lot of time in the jacuzzi and some time in the pool. We decided to forego all of the outdoor activities available (snow shoeing and cross country skiing). It just sounded way too exhausting.
On Saturday we got up and went for brunch (yummy) and then we went swimming which meant mostly hanging out in the jacuzzi. And then I had a two hour nap. And then once I got up we went into the town where we decided to skip lunch and instead have lattes and buttertarts. It was divine. It was like dating all over again.
I can't believe we haven't had this much time alone since Matthew was born.
One of my favourite moments was over brunch on Saturday morning. We were sitting sipping coffee when this man walked past. I sware it was Stuart Smalley from Saturday Night Live. I, of course, found this hilarious. And, then just because I could I started to (quietly) do a couple of the cheerleader cheers from vintage SNL episodes. It was just funny. We hadn't laughed about stupid things like that for awhile.
It was nice.
The snow was also nice. It wasn't freezing or anything. So, it was pretty to look at.
Anyway, totally worth it.
And, bonus, I'm taking a couple of extra days off of work this week. I fully plan to return to my office relaxed and refreshed.

Random Friday

In honour of Random Friday (which I keep forgetting to do, but thanks to Ruthie I'm resurrecting) here are some random things Matt has started saying.

• "Just two more seconds" - this phrase comes out whenever he wants to do something longer (like watch tv) or to calculate time. The other day at Zellers we saw booster seats for the car. I told Mike he would use one when he is older and he said "yes. In two seconds I will use a booster seat."
  
  
• "Two Millllllllllion" - this is used to denote anything large. Something expensive is two millllllion dollars and someone old is two milllllllllllion years old
  
  
• "How about no?" - I often say stuff like "how about we go to the store?" and he will always say "how about no?" as an option. It's awfully funny.
  
  
• "Yo-ho-ho" - If he is made he screams this. I can't help it. When he screams this at us, Mike and I crack up every time. Where did this come from? The other day he also stuck his hand up his sleeve and said "I'm a pirate." okay.
  
  
• "You're a sexy race car, mommy" - Yes. This is from Cars, I think. Who knows.
  
  
• "Daddio and Mommio" - whenever he wants to butter us up for something he adds "io" to our names. I know - adorable
  
  
• "I'm Lightning BuQueen" - he runs around screaming this all the time. We've tried to tell him it's Lightning McQueen but he will have none of it.
  

I know there are a ton more, but these are some of my favourites. In the past month or so Matt's language has exploded. I think he's been hanging around the older kids at daycare and is copying their sentences. Too cute.

Loving Valentines ...

Yay! Valentines.
I loved my Valentines Day!!!
Like most of Southern Ontario we woke up to a ton of snow. I really love snow - at least I love the first snowstorm of the season. I love that we have a walkway to shovel (this is not sarcasm - it's our house ...) So, I was pretty psyched about it. I looked out the window when I rolled out of bed nice and early - almost 5am.

By the time I'd had my shower and made coffee it was about 5:20. I was about to turn on the tv when I saw a card sitting on the couch. It was from Mike. It was a really sweet card and at the end it said to wake him up when I read the card for my super awesome gift.
I could have waited like a nice wife would have. But I ran up the stairs. We don't always "do" Valentines. So I was pretty freaking excited. I didn't even go for a slow wake up. I turned all the lights on and said "I'm ready for my present, Baby!"
I am positive Mike was fully expecting this because he came as close to hopping out of bed as possible, and rushed downstairs.
And, out came the most amazing wonderful Valentine's gift ever.
My Coach bag!!!!
I've wanted one for sooooo long. And, contrary to popular belief, this is not something I would buy for myself. I was thrilled. And, he picked one I would like. It was awesome.

And then back to reality. We still had to get to work. So, I got dressed in my super Valentinesy outfit and shovelled. And got all my Valentines for work. And got Matt's Valentines.
And then we went outside.
Crap. The snow was really really really deep.
It came up to Matt's shoulders. He could hardly walk. And we had left his boots and snowpants at daycare. And then he dropped his bottle in the snow and I couldn't retrieve it. It was tense.
But I got to the train on time. And it was delayed. (surprise).
And, just as I was getting on the late train I got an e-mail telling me that the daycare was closed. Crap. I still got on the train because it was there. And I had a million Valentines to deliver.
So, my incredible amazing sister took Matt for the morning while I went to work.
Really, I also had to show off my purse. So, it was essential to go. And I had a lot of work, of course.
So ...
I went to work for the morning. And, today work was good. Some of the crappy stuff that has been going on wasn't. And, I was dressed in a heart covered outfit. And I was happy. And I delivered Valentines. And I got a whole bunch of Valentines which was SUPER cool!!!!
By noon I was ready to go home to relieve my sister.

My sister! Like the hat? It's her daughter's skirt - the girl can accessorize

And, it was pretty cool because I then got to spend time with my nieces and my sister and of course Matty.
We all went to Starbucks. It was fun and stressful. I'm not so sure that taking 3 tired and stir crazy children to Starbucks is the best idea. But, in our defense, we were planning to go to Chapters but the Starbucks was closed there and we were needing some coffee.
After awhile in Starbucks Matt really was losing it and so we went to the mall. For 2 hours. It almost killed me. We bought popcorn and looked at boots. For 2 hours. Mind you, half an hour was spent in Old Navy in the rocket ship. It was an interesting couple of hours.
Finally our day ended with Matthew telling us we needed to have pizza for dinner. So we all went to Pizza Hut and had a nice Valentines Dinner.
Perfect-o!
This is actually our Sunday evening Valentines Dinner, but you get the point

Cracking the Toddler Code

We've been having some major issues with our toddler.
I'll call it the terrible two's because I'm pretty sure that's what it is. One minute he wants something and the next he is screaming because he doesn't. One minute he's happy the next he's sad. Take for instance gymnastics. He alternates between loving it and running around like a crazy boy to stopping and lying on the floor and saying he's "way too tired, Mommy" and then 2 seconds later bounces right back.
It's driving Mike and I insane.
And the biting. Every so often he bites. It's not so bad, certainly not as bad as when he was younger, but the sudden random bites are PAINFUL. I have the bruises to prove it.
But in addition to all of this he screams.
Last night was fun. I gave him a bath before I went to the gym. As I was trying to convince him to get out of the bath he screamed
"I DON'T WANT OUT. NO OUT. LEAVE ME ALONE MOMMMY. I WILL SLEEP IN THE BATHTUB TONIGHT. GO AWAY. NO. DON'T GO AWAY. STAY. WITH ME. IN THE BATHROOOOOOOM."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. And, I didn't laugh a little. I laughed a lot. It was funny. And if I've learned nothing else about being a parent I've learned that when you have to choose between screaming back or laughing - unless it's life or death laughing is the better option.
The thing is - Matt laughed back.
And we were killing ourselves laughing for a good five minutes.
Till I said "time to get out now."
And he screamed back "NO. NOT GETTING OUT."
What did I do? I laughed and picked him up.
And, instead of his usual kicking and screaming he started to giggle. And then shout and then I'd laugh and then he'd giggle.
This worked all evening.
I was pretty impressed. Perhaps I'm breaking through.
So I went to the gym and when I got back he was asleep. (I know - it's my master plan - lose weight and avoid the bedtime battles). Therefore I did not get to try the laughing thing again last night.
But I tried it this morning.
Whatever he screamed at me I laughed back. Before he was out the door (this is about a 40 minute time span) he had started screaming and then laughing at himself.
It's fantastic. I'm loving this new theory.
I plan to keep trying it.
Frankly, I don't care if it looks bizarre that I laugh when my toddler has a temper tantrum. You know why? Because I have already tried the tactic where you get down to the child's level and speak in the toddler tone. It's way way way more ridiculous. So for now I'm sticking with laughing.
And, as they say: "Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone"

Private School?

Today, after gymnastics and a visit with my parents, we went to a private school open house.
This isn't just any private school. This is the school that I attended for 8 years. I was a little hesitant to go to the open house. I don't know why. I was kind of nervous.
But, we decided to go, just to check it out.
This year is the school's 25th anniversary. I went there the first year it opened (I was 4 and in jk). It's in the same location, but so much of it has changed. When I walked in it sort of looked the same and it sort of looked different. It had been upgraded, of course. But I think it just looked really small - since I'm significantly taller (at 5'2.5) than I was when I went there.
Anyway, from the moment we walked into the jk room it was amazing. Matthew loved the classroom, we were getting all our questions answered. The jk teacher was sitting chatting to some other prospective parents and we walked over. And she got up and shouted my name. Why? It was my favourite teacher of all time - Mrs. Black. She was my grade 2 teacher.
I have to admit, I love this woman. I loved her in grade 2. I loved her as I got older. She was a surprise guest at my wedding shower. I just didn't know she taugh junior kindergarten at this school.
She hasn't changed a bit. She's still cool and funny and pretty and wears great shoes. She still makes me laugh, and she could probably still make me sit in my sit and listen when she speaks. Love her.
So, a huge huge part of me is now debating putting Matt into this school just for this reason.
And, I also really like the discipline aspect. I like their core values. I like the class sizes. I like the foundation for education. I like it. I also like that in jk/sk at a private school you still get a tax credit like with daycare. So added bonus there.
I don't like that it's slightly more expensive. Nor do I like that there would be two months off in the summer since it's school not daycare. I have time to think about that though.
As I walked through the rest of the school I kept finding people I knew. I felt a little bad for Mike and Matt because I was like the walking social committee. Air kisses and hugs abounded. There was lots of laughing. There was a lot of storytelling. I relived my last 15 years for everyone. I introduced our family. It was cool and wonderful.
I was sad to leave.
I'm not sure if I want my child going to private school forever. There are a lot of pros and a lot of cons. (Cost being one). But, I have to say that I am seriously considering the option. At least for a couple of years.
And, as a complete side note - after reading Jeff's blog, and after deciding that if I watched Cars one more time I might crack, we went out and rented Curious George. Matthew is LOVING this movie. Thank goodness.

RRSP's on the Brain

So Mike and I have started talking finances.
Unlike some couples, we never discussed money before we got married. Really. We didn't. I had my financial goals, but we never discussed them at length. And, to be honest, as we went along we just kept going with the flow and hoping for the best.
Let me tell you, with or without kids, this is not the way to go at it.
Now that Mike has hit his 30's and I'm approaching them, we're realizing that we need to sort this stuff out. We did this thanks to the show we were on (yes, it has aired, yes it will air again, no I haven't watched it, yes I will).
But, my new found fear of retirement savings has really begun to hit home for me. Some of my friends/colleagues and I started the PPAC course - it's the Pension Plan Administration Course offered by Humber College. We've been doing this for a couple of weeks now.
The focus of the course is to get a broad understanding of pensions in Ontario. It's kind of interesting and kind of boring. But all together terrifying. I'm beginning to really understand that I may not have enough money to retire.
One of my friends did the calculation for me. If I were to stay at the company I work with (or any employment that offers my pension plan) for the next 30 years I could retire at the age of 60. So that gives me just over 30 years to save for retirement.
Mike has about the same, but no pension. So, essentially he could retire into poverty. What if I die??? (okay, we haven't actually gotten to the whole part about survivor benefits so he could actually be fine). But, really, can we survive on one salary when we retire?
I'm planning to travel. Have fun. Dote on my (yikes!) grandchildren. And, I can't do this if I'm not even able to afford a can of soup.
So, tonight, over dinner at McDonald's, Mike and I started a financial plan. We've lined up our RRSP guy and we're going to start saving. You know, my grandchildren will thank me!

And, on a much lighter note ... guess what? Mike and I are going to go away on a romantic weekend for 2 next weekend. A little post-Valentine's child free get away at a resort. I'm super excited!!!! We have never been away without Matt. I have some big plans for the weekend. Apparently they offer free cross country skiing and snow shoeing which Mike is excited about. I'm more excited about the pool, sauna, room service, spa and SLEEP!!!!

And, just for some fun, here are some pictures of Matt. Yesterday when I was trying to wake him up he just did not want to have any of it. He had removed all the sheets from the bed, was curled up in "child's pose" and was sleeping the cold away. I don't blame him.

Honestly, he really prefers the bed without the sheets. And, the pink blanket was mine when I was his age. He loves this blanket.

Poor Caillou ... buried under the neglected sheets!

PS He is sleeping in a bathrobe, but we always take the belt off - so he won't hurt himself.

Run Run Run

Sometime in January I set a goal for myself. In the spring I want to run a 5k.
I know that to some people this isn't a huge goal. But, to a non-runner 5k seems like a gigantic feat. The idea of all of this came from me joining a gym and a friend suggesting that we try a specific race. Not one to turn down a dare or a challenge I decided I would try it.
The thing is, I have started to enjoy it.
I've been following the whole idea of taking it at a slow pace and taking needed breaks. Know what's shocking? When you follow this it is actually do-able.
A friend of mine who is a runner told me to start by walking a minute and then running a minute. Afterall, she explained, who can't run for a minute at a time? At the time I honestly thought me!
But I'm sick of all the negative self talk. When I look at myself now as compared to a year ago I like myself a lot better. And a year ago there's no way I would have attempted it. Seriously.
And now ... I'm loving it.
So tonight I decided to see if I could actually go all 5 kilometres.
Here's the goal I set for myself. I wasn't going to watch the calorie read out and I wasn't going to care about the time. I would take walking breaks as needed and I would try to do all 3.1 miles.
By 1 mile I was stressed. Suddenly this goal seemed unattainable. I was tired and cranky and didn't feel like it.
But I persevered. Forty-five minutes later I finished running 5kilometres.
I'm pretty proud of myself!!!!
I know that it's harder to run outside. I know that 45 minutes isn't a great time. In fact, it's not even a good time.
But the point is, I feel like I can do it. And I like it. When things are crappy at work I actually start to think that I can run off the stress in the evening. Seriously. Does anyone else notice that this is new thinking to me? It's weird. And wonderful!
And, amazingly, although I was tired tonight I wasn't out of breath. I wasn't about to run another 5 k. My face was bright red. But I was breathing semi-normally. This above all is pretty amazing.
This running thing is pretty cool!!!

Suburbia & Starbucks

I find it fascinating that I think so much about suburban life. Afterall, I was raised in suburbia. But let me tell you it's a whole different ballgame when you're living in suburbia by choice - and still looking at it from the outside in.
On the weekend my friend came over to visit. She's my friend, Ginny, from the condo. It sort of sucks that we can't just call each other and run down the hall, but the fact that her mom lives close and she can stop by to visit is pretty cool.
The fact that she came bearing Starbucks - even better! (you know how some friends you're like "no no no, it's okay I'll make coffee just come visit" and other friends they call you and it's like "are you still doing non-fat lattes"? Gin is the latter. But, I did have treats).
Anyway, so despite the frigid arctic that was Saturday, Ginny got out of her car and went into the drive-thru Starbucks to place her order. Why? Cause she wanted a whole lot of vanilla sprinkles. So, while she was in there getting her sprinkles someone came up to her and made a funny comment about how she was so bundled up. I forget the phrase. The point is that he interrupted her Starbucks bubble to comment on the weather.
We were laughing about it at the time. But, as I thought about it later I realized that this, my friends, is suburbia.
Trust me, we've seen many the crazy on a Starbucks outing, but in Toronto (or most urban centres) they keep to themselves. Seriously.
Here in the suburbs people talk more. Like, the other day I took a taxi home. And I admit I'm pretty chatty, but somehow in the 4 minutes it took me to get home we had established I was new in town. And then I paid the fare, and the driver spent another 5 minutes telling me about the cool local events, the local shopping and the movie theatre. weird.
Or, like the other day Matt and I were at Shoppers. Matt had his soother in his mouth. And, this other toddler pointed it out. I got all defensive "he's tired and cranky" and the mom was like "oh, noooo ... My son uses one too. Whatever gets you through the day."
We proceeded to go through all of Shoppers on a hunt for the Tide that was on sale (and found it.)
I'd say this is weird. But it happens all the time.
People at the gym stop and talk to me - telling me when the gym is quiet, offering to show me where the yoga mats are, etc. I worked out at 3 different gyms in Toronto. Chatty strangers were an exception. Not the rule.
And I'm loving it.
I can't help it. The more people talk to me me the more I get all chatty back. Sometimes it's just plain funny.
My opinion on this - part of it is all the available free parking. Seriously. Think about it. Why not linger at the drug store when you're not worried about how much time is on the metre. Who cares if you spend an extra couple of minutes at the hair salon if you're not worried about whether or not you are parked illegally. It's fantastic.
Not to mention, where there isn't an abundance of parking there's a drive thru. Within 5 minutes of my house there's a drive thru Starbucks, McDonald's, Wendy's, Tim Hortons (about 4) and I can't remember what else. The point is - here in suburbia we're not worried about our cars which leaves us time to talk.
What else could it be???
Or it could be something else. Truthfully I sucked at sociology. I bet some sociologist would have an idea, but as far as I'm concerned it's all about the mobility.
Oh - and thanks for the coffee Ginny. Next time I'm buying (extra vanilla sprinkles, and I'll remember which one is yours!!!)

And,just an update. Today my teenage neighbour came to my door. I realized I'd been gone way too long when I insisted on shouting out my door "who are you?" while a shivering 16-year-old was telling me they were turning the water off. Oops.
So, then when I figured that my poor neighbour was hanging out in the cold I let him in and let him turn on my water. I know ... city dweller!!!

And then they get it

Instead of going to the gym today I had a nap. I probably could have slept right through the night. I think the combination of winter, stress at work, lack of sleeping properly at night and who knows what else has just tired me out.
So when Matt told me he was napping on the couch, and Mike said he would stay awake I made a beeline for the bed.
Two hours later I felt someone waking me up. I was a little surprised. I usually wake up either from Matt crying, Mike snoring (sorry, sweetie), my alarm blaring or my bizarre internal clock that just wakes me up before my alarm.
So the soft gentle shaking took me aback.
Maybe a dream still?
Nope. It was my super adorable toddler who decided it was time for Mommy to wake up. But instead of screaming or crying, or my favourite, having the lights turned on, he started rubbing my arm. And as I slowly started to wake up he whispered "mommy I came to share raisins with you." My eyes were still shut when he started to stuff his favourite food in my mouth. Adorable.
As it was, in fact, not terrible effective at waking me up, he decided to move on to other methods.
He first sang me a song (quietly) and then climbed into bed. And then he said the cutest thing ever "mommy, I will tell you a story to wake you up."
And, he sat on the bed reciting the words to Moo, Baa, LaLaLa. About halfway through the rendition I was awake, but he decided to read me one more story and pulled out his Busy Town book and went through all the pictures with me.
And then we just sat in bed and cuddled. He told me all about Diego saving the pygmy marmasats. He talked about Gravedigger and the Monster. It was pretty cool. It was one of the moments I'll remember because it was so loving and so sweet. He's learning.
And, after the awesome wake-up he had happy mommy back and all was well with the world.
I still can't convince him to watch football though.

Let's Make a Deal

Newsflash - It's Superbowl Weekend!
I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the world's biggest football fan. Neither is my husband. In fact, if we're being completely honest here, I think that back when Mike and I were first together I actually explained the rules of football to him.
But I do, occassionally, enjoy a good football game. I'm a true bandwagon fan of many things. Football included. So when Superbowl Sunday comes along count me in. I love the beer and the nachos and the chili. I've hosted Superbowl parties.
Probably the best or most memorable Superbowl party was the year before we got married. Mike was living with the world's biggest football fan (thank God I had already explained the rules of the game) and since I was always at his place I offered to make a huge batch of chili, get tons of snacks and we would have a party. We all had fun. But as Adam (the roommate)'s team started to lose really badly he went off to his room to cry and watch the end of the game. I'm not sure whether we were more absorbed in the game or laughing at Adam.
But that's what makes Superbowl fun.
Right?
The Janet/Justin fiasco. Golden.
I love it.
There's just one problem. The Superbowl is not shown on Treehouse and Matthew is very demanding about watching his shows.
Hence our use of his favourite phrase - let's make a deal.
Tomorrow we are on a quest to watch the Superbowl and are hoping to do it without a toddler having a temper tantrum for the duration of the game.
Luckily we are getting pretty good with the bribes. Licorice and chips will tide us over for awhile. We can bring all the good basement toys upstairs. And, if worse comes to worst we will turn our bedroom tv on to Treehouse and let him hang out in the love den (ha ha just kidding) while we enjoy the game of all games, the Superbowl.
Now, in all honesty we are a little anxious. This weekend is posing a few problems. Mike went to the grocery store to get all of the ingredients for Chili but they had no kidney beans. I think another traditional Superbowl food is wings, but Mike hates chicken wings so that option is out. We may be making nachos. We'll just have to see. There's also the small issue that we could be without water (our neighbour is turning the water off for a few hours - don't ask). And, we still have to pick up beer. Because it would seem I have a new found affinity for drinking beer. And what is the Superbowl without beer?
We fully intend to spend tomorrow discussing with Matt why the tv will be tuned to football. In highschool I went to a lot of games, and found pure joy in the idea of screaming "smoosh smoosh smoosh" every time someone tackled someone. This will be my final card. If nothing else we will allow Matt to scream at the television while we attempt to enjoy the show.
Wish us luck everyone. I think tomorrow we will be needing it.
Of course, if anyone wants to babysit - you've got our number!

The Time Out

My husband and I are advocates of the time out. Sometimes we go with the quick no warning time-out though this is rare.
For instance, last night when Matt kicked Mojo and I told him that was bad, and then when he kicked me in response it was straight to a time out - on the stairs.
We usually try to do the counting thing though. You know - 1, 2, 3 and it's a time out. Usually he freaks when we get to 2 and he stops. When he doesn't we put him in whatever we have deemed the time-out location. Sometimes it's the living room chair, sometimes it's a stair, I've even resorted to the cart in the grocery store (and that is fun). I am not one to carry a naughty mat nor do I think location is that important. If you have ever seen my child in a time out you would understand -- if he's in time out he's pissed off and location is irrelevant.
But this morning I was watching the Gill Deacon show (it was 5 am - there's not much choice at that time). She was talking to an expert about time outs.
It was the stupidest segment of television I have watched in awhile.
The supposed expert they had talking about it was driving me crazy. As they sat in a nicely lit studio with no children running around they had a serious discussion about the idea behind a time out. Apparently, when putting a child in a time out you should be calm, rational and loving. You should not be angry or frustrated. You should lovingly explain to your toddler that you are putting them in time out so that they can calm down and then you will discuss the behaviour. And then the good parent you are, you should walk away and be calm because that is what this behaviour is all about.
HELLO!
Have they met my child?
Seriously.
Time out for me is the moment where I choose to be a good mother and not strangle my child, not leave him alone in the grocery store or just go buy a bottle of wine and drink it because I'm at a loss.
Do I have a moment of clarity, where I think happy thoughts all while my child is freaking out and possibly kicking or screaming or - and this is his latest manouevre - punching. Of course I don't. Generally when we get to the time-out phase I'm mad or frustrated or both. I'm trying to figure out why he's doing what he's doing. And I'm trying to find a good solution. I generally don't take the time to go into my happy place to convey to my child that I'm not mad.
Seriously. I think that may confuse him.
Take for instance my upbringing.
My parents were and are amazing. They had their own discipline techniques - they weren't the biggest advocates of the time out. But let me tell you. I knew when I was in trouble. Don't get me wrong, they didn't bring out the whip and threaten me. Nothing like that. But, my usually calm and fairly reserved parents let me know when they were not pleased with me.
It didn't always get to the punishment stage because they could convey in their words and looks that if I didn't stop I was in trouble. They were not reaching for their inner calmness (well, I 'm sure they had to in order to not kill me) but there were no fake smiles and niceness while calmly putting me in my room.
They made it clear - your actions were wrong and I am upset.
And, that to me is the best way to do it.
I never questionned it. I didn't always listen or behave. But there was never any question that if I was bad my parents were not happy and there would be a consequence.
I can't imagine it being any other way. How confusing would it have been for me if, say, when I was 4 years old, I bit my sister and instead showing her complete disgust with my actions, my mom calmed herself down and then gently told me that biting was wrong? With my personality I probably would have laughed, and then done it again to see what her reaction would be. Truthfully, I vividly recall the day I got mad at my sister and bit her through her winter jacket. I don't remember the punishment, but I certainly remember thinking that I really should never do that again. And I never have.
And trust me. My mom was furious. That I recall.
My point is - sometimes as parents we need to show our emotions.
Of course showing emotions works two ways. Sure last night after the kicking incident Matthew knew I was mad (and in pain), but a lot of the time I let him know how happy I am. It's awesome to fall over laughing with him, or to play "cut the pickle tickle tickle" and laugh. And I think that he'll remember that just as much.
And besides, that's who I am. I'm an emotional nut case and a bit of a drama queen. You know me and love me for who I am. And so will he.
And if all else fails, at least his dad is a pretty calm person.

What we have determined about soothers, and why I'm not giving up this blog

Obviously I'm over what I wrote about yesterday. I know a lot of you don't get it. But, I had to say it. And I had to figure it out. And, to the people who sent me e-mails saying that yep, it's my blog I can say what I want thanks. Cause that's the point. And, as much as sometimes I want to vent about the crap out there I'm not. At the end of the day, no matter what the forum, I'm responsible for what I say. And it would just be really stupid to share some stuff.

And, to the anonymous commenter who found me from Rebecca's blog. HELLO - that is the coolest thing ever! Don't you love her? I love her.

So ...

On to the topic of soothers.

Mike and I were laughing today about soothers. Apparently after nap today Matt had a complete meltdown when they took his soother away. Eventually (and this is why I LOVE this daycare) they let him have it. He was happy, and he needed the added comfort the soother brought. He's 2. I say whatever.
But it made us curious about the whole topic.
What's with this whole soother deal? Why is it that when a child reaches a certain age (1, 2, 3 or 4) parents feel the need to take away the soother. Okay, maybe 4 is a little old, but I don't get the obsession with removing the soother. Sorry. I know a lot of you do.
So, Mike randomly asked Matthew today "who else has a soother at daycare?"
I know a few kids have them but he gave us one response "Julia".
Seriously.
This is the little girl that he hangs out with ALL THE TIME.
He talks about her. She kisses him goodbye. I've never met her since I don't do the daycare pick ups or drop offs, but I know she exists. Cause he talks about her.
And it turns out that she shares his love of soother.
Mike asked me tonight "do you think they are kind of like the foyer crowd but with soothers?"
Actually, I kind of do.
Funny.
Love the soother.
My thoughts on it. We have cut back on the soother. He's content keeping it in his pocket and doing stuff. If he's not tired he can go for long stretches without it. But when he's tired. Seriously he needs it.
The truth is that I've never seen grown kids sucking soothers (well, I have, but not in like the way that a baby/toddler does). And, I know that in kindergarten they won't be allowed them. I've even done some research on it and conferred with my doctor. By all means he's good till the age of 4 then he has to give it up.
My niece gave her soother up around then. I have to admit she's a little like a reformed alcoholic. She can go months without a soother, but if someone slips one to her she just sits there with a look of complete peace on her face. It kills me when I see it (and yes, I am the enabler who occassionally lets her get a taste of soothery goodness).
So, one day we will retire the soother. Oh, and the bottle. But for now. I'm not ready. And neither is Matt.
And, okay, I'll be honest. One time he stuck a soother in my mouth. And it was kind of comforting. But weird. I'm 28 - too old to ever justify it. But, I do see the appeal. There are worse things I tell ya.

Long Time Gone

It feels like I haven't blogged for awhile. And, I know it's been awhile because a couple of people have mentioned it. I mean, I've said the random thing here and there, but lately it's been pretty quiet.
Why?
Well, because sometimes it's hard to write about your life. And, lately I've been questioning it a bit. I started this blog because I wanted to write about my son. I loved the idea of sharing the craziness of motherhood with other people. Someone I pretty much idolize encouraged me to, and I did. And it's been fun.
It's pretty cool knowing that people read about my life and that they care. I love knowing that my niece goes online with my sister to look at pictures of Matty (and of her and her sister). It's cool that friends I don't see very often check it out. It's amazing to me that I sent an e-mail to my best friend from elementary school, who I haven't seen since I was 14, and she saw the link and has been reading (and in some cases relating to my life).
That is cool.
But there are some things that aren't so cool. It's weird knowing that people at work read this. Not everyone - but some people. You can't limit it. Nor can you decide that one day one friend can read and another can't.
It bugs me that I can't be as open as I would like to be. Sure I'm a little negative here, but not really. Without getting into details (because, obviously I can't) there's just some crappy stuff going on right now. And, I don't really know who I can rely on, who I can trust, etc etc. And here would be a great place for it. All of it. Except that I'm not anonymous. And, I wish I were.
(Mom, if you are reading this don't worry - yes, you know the whole story we chatted about it at Starbucks).
I asked someone, another blogger, his opinion of letting people at work in on your life. He didn't say I was crazy, but it's not his practice. At the time I didn't quite understand his point. Now I do.
My point is this. Some people suck. And, knowing sucky people read my blog sucks. So, instead of writing around it and not talking about it I am. Maybe I'll switch blogs. It's not the first time someone has done that. Or maybe I'll get over it and stop being sensitive and remember that at the end of the day it's my choice to write or not to write and how much I share and don't share.
I'm not going to be negative and say all the crap stuff. I think at the end of the day, I'm writing what I know - and what I want to write. And I would way rather talk about the cool adorable funny stuff that Matt does than the crap that sometimes arises outside of home.
Good? Good.
But for those of you who know me - what do you think? Continue? Take a break? Just wondering what you think.