Friday Fragments - A Pictorial

Total Friday randomness...

You know how we have our bed to ourselves now? Well, I forgot about this guy:

No, unfortunately it isn't some fancy marital aid.

I don't know if I ever told you, but I think our bedroom ceiling fan is haunted. Every summer, it gets a little warm in our bedroom, which sits over the garage. So we installed a ceiling fan, one complete with a light and three spinning speeds. It's wonderful what a little air circulation will do.

After about a year or so, it started to do some funny stuff. Like all of a sudden crank up from level one to hyper level three speed. Or if the light was off, it would turn on. Or the whole thing would shut off. All completely on its own. At first it used to freak us out.

We thought it might be the batteries in the remote. But we've changed them, and it doesn't make a difference. Some weird phantom just loves to mess with us just as we're trying to get to REM stage. So what do we do? We sleep with the remote...and whosoever happens to be awake when the light goes on at 3 AM, or the blades of the fan fly at speeds that threaten to decapitate us while we're in dreamland; well, that person has to hit the appropriate button. I think we're destined to keep those LOSER T's permanently...

*****

Welcome to our fridge:

I forgot that I put Ms. Little Pony in there for the girlie; hubs apparently saw it the other day when he went to get a beer, but didn't comment. Gee, this Dad thing must be old hat to him now.

Just so you know, this is our treatment for Little Pony vitiligo. Pony turns white when you hold it, so it must go back to deep freeze to get its pink on. Girlie is turning into an ingenious vet these days.

*****

MOOOOOOOOOOO...

Yes, I splurged and got blog cards for the upcoming BlogHer-thing-a-ma-bop...and while I was at it I also got myself a totally frivolous Betseyville bag for a steal at Winners. The animal print is as garish or as stylish as can be, depending on who you talk to.

It's a computer case, but looks like a typical carry-on, so people don't necessarily think you're carrying your laptop in there and won't steal it. Except now I've just told the internet. Great. Well, I'm in the market for a new one anyway.

Now I just need some comfortable but sexy shoes. Oxymoron, I know. Seriously, no Fashion Fridays in a long, long time means there's a void to fill.

*****

Oh, and my hairstylist is back from mat. leave. Whoopeee!!!

For better fragments, visit the home of Mrs. 4444 when you get a chance.

So now what do we do?

My kids get away with a lot. They're good kids, but they know how to work the system.

Take my daughter, for example. She's four AND A HALF now, she's quick to point out. And she just graduated from junior kindergarten. In September she'll be a "senior".

But get this; she has her own room, complete with her own pretty bed...which she hasn't slept in since she was three.

Where has she been sleeping, pray tell?

Why, in her Mom and Dad's room, on the couch next to their bed. Mommy and Daddy need T-shirts with "LOSERS" blazoned across them.

How did this happen? Well, she used to go to bed pronto right a 8 PM, we'd tuck her in with her stuffed guys, give her a kiss good night, and she'd be good. No drama for the night.

But she started getting up in the middle of the night and crawling into bed with us. And then before we knew it, she was spending most of the night in bed with us... so our new rule was, get in the couch, if you're coming into our room.

Then somehow we ended up being too tired, and she weaseled her way into getting tucked into the couch right away, bypassing the whole bedroom ritual entirely. (I suspect it was the hubs that allowed this to happen on a night while I was out. Yeah, I blame him for everything, and this is no exception. No willpower against girls who have certain grown men wrapped around their cutie little fingers). And to be honest, there's something just too sweet about hearing your little girl's gentle breathing next to you.

It just became habit.

But this was ridiculous. It's just bad news to lose the sanctity of your own bedroom. It can't be good for a marriage. Bad enough that kids invade your entire consciousness, let alone your sub and then total unconsciousness.

She promised, though, that she would go back to her room, eventually. Before she was ten at least. Well, that argument didn't fly, so she deferred it to her sleepover with her baby cousin, which was two weekends ago. She slept in her room, with her cousin in the playpen beside her. Not a single hitch.

It was beautiful.

But guess what? She went right back to our couch the next day. Grrrrr. And I have little energy to fight.

So here comes my little hero.

"G, if I sleep next to you on the air mattress in your room, will you stay in your bed?."

"Yay, it will be like a sleepover. Yay Goh-Goh, I will, I will sleep there all the night if you're next to me!" she shouted with glee. Literally jumping up and down and clapping.

Her last words to me as she faded into sleep this past Monday were,

"Mommy, if Goh-Goh sleeps here with me forever, then it's okay, I'll sleep in my own bed."

And she did.

And she has every night now, since Monday.

With her big brother by her side.

I asked my boy on Tuesday if he wanted to go back to his room. He replied,

"Uh, no, not just yet. It's comforting hearing her next to me sleeping. It's okay Mommy. I'll let you know when I'm ready to go back."

Where did we get this kid?

And so his Mommy thanks him. And his Daddy too.

Because of him, we've got our bedroom back.

Not that we've got the energy to do anything with this new scenario, but it's the principle right?

"Wordless" Wednesday - Happy Canada Day

Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians!

Celebrate!

(photos from StockExchg)

The most important job

It was only supposed to be for a couple of years. After all, it had been a long, almost ten year journey to become parents of two. Staying at home with them during the early precious baby years, when I could also cherish quality time with my preschooler boy. It was a no brainer.

Then she was a toddler, with so many things to do, so many programs to experience. With her Mommy.

'Maybe when she's in school', I said to myself.

Now she's in school. And that "couple" of years? Has morphed into over four.

*****

The man's travel for work has picked up again. The last time he came home, he was so happy to see us, and he made a point of giving me an extra bit of TLC (along with the Lady Godivas) by telling me that I'm the one doing the most important job. I'm the parent at home with the kids. He's just bringing home the money.

I appreciated that. I really did. And he's doing a lot more than just that.

So I'm torn.

You see, I've always been a career gal. Even when I was a young girl, I envisioned working full time, outside of the home after I had my family. It was the model I grew up in; it was what I aspired to. Not just a job, but a career, with a path and succession planning. I did it after I had my son. I never even contemplated being a stay-at-home mom. Not until I became pregnant with the girl, and the company situation presented itself. It just made sense NOT to work. The career, in the whole scheme of things, was not as important. And truth be told, there's not much I can complain about this whole at home gig.

I have this colleague, though, who I'll call "headhunter". Who's good at what he does. In fact, he's great. I've used his services over the years and have found great people from him. He keeps tabs on me, he calls me up regularly to get a pulse of where my head is at, if and when I'm planning to hit the career trail again. And up until now, it's been easy to say, "not quite yet; I'm still looking for that work-life balance..." I have been lucky too, that I've had a few work projects over the last couple of years.

But the headhunter has done it now. He's presented me with an interesting opportunity. Close to home, perhaps not as fast-paced as what I'd had before. Something that might be worth investigating, if only to brush up my resume and practice my interview skills.

So my head is spinning. I should just go for the experience, right? There's no pressure, it's not like I'm absolutely needing this job. The scenarios are already flying around in my mind, though, all the "what if's". What if the interview goes well and it's something I might want to jump back into? What if it's such an amazing company and culture that I can't turn away. What if they DON'T want to hire me, what about that?

And what about my kids and their care? They're not ready for me to go back. Would we need a nanny? Am I actually ready to go back; but what if I don't and I wait too long? What about wanting to do my own thing, drumming up more of my own business so I can avoid the daily grind? The appeal of a regular paycheque, of again using my brain, education and experience is there. But then the reality of having to deal with management headaches and potential travel also needs to be factored into the equation. Do I even want to go there?

Hubs thinks I should look into it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He's fine with whatever I want to do.

My head just hurts. This is supposed to be summer vacation isn't it? Why isn't it fun yet?

*****

And here is a pretty song, just because I like it...

Friday Fragments - Pop Culture edition

What a day it was yesterday, and continues to be today. While I was congratulating myself for being so cool as to be "in the know" about two events via twitter before they made official headlines (I'm such a geek that way) ... it really registered as to how historically sad it was.

Farrah Fawcett, an original Charlie's Angel. And then Michael Jackson, the icon. Two celebrities who touched the world. And me.

*****

I was a huge fan of the Six Million Dollar Man when I was a kid. And then when I found out that he was married to this blonde goddess in real life, I was totally awestruck. I'll be honest, Farrah wasn't my favourite angel (Jaclyn Smith was my idol) but I did sketches of the Angels and hung them up on my wall. And I couldn't draw, but I loved them, and the show and what it stood for (three beautiful, smart, female DETECTIVES? Catching bad guys? Wow!).

Sure, they bounced around a bit as they ran around, and were always so cutely flirty chatting with Charlie...but to a young girl, they were certainly something to aspire to. Even a little skinny Chinese girl.

I did feel a bit betrayed after she left the show, but looking back, it was a very strong, gutsy move, made by a strong, gutsy woman. From what I've read about her battle with cancer, she was an inspiration.

*****

Michael Jackson. I still know so many of the lyrics to so many of the songs. From the time I used to watch the Jackson 5 cartoon series on Saturdays mornings .... to the days in the basement when I used to prance around to "Shake your Body to the Ground"... to the "Thriller" album that I won when my Dad spent who knows how much $$ at a Fairweather shopping spree for me and my sister... to the first dance I ever choreographed in high school to "Billie Jean". Watching his videos over and over, jumping up to dance whenever I heard his distinctive voice.

I can't believe he's gone.

*****

I took the kids with me to Dad's grave site, after picking up up some annuals to pay our respects. It's tradition to visit before July 1. And it was the first time I'd been there since the winter.

The foundation for the monument has been set. The site is gorgeous in the summer, with a lovely tree and bench right by. I think Dad must love it, it's beautiful.

I spent a half an hour digging because the spot that my brother had cleared had been re-sodded again for the foundation (unbenownst to us, they just put it in yesterday). Digging with the girlie's garden tools, because that's all I brought (d'oh!).

It was a bit of work, in the hot sun, cutting through the mud and clay. But a labour of love...it was the least I could do ... the flowers make it look so much prettier.

After a quick watering, I took the kids' hands and we stood in front of my Dad's spot. My boy bowed his head and said a private message to his Granddad in his head... and then he shook with sobs. I teared up too. We all miss him so.

So after our traditional three bows toward Dad, we packed it all up and walked back to the car.

Into the shiny weekend that I know my Dad would want us to enjoy.

*****

For more fantastic fragments, visit the home of Mrs. 4444 when you get a chance.